Son of Ereubus (39 page)

“I don’t want to die.”

Aiden sprang to his feet, and kicked Micah hard in the side. Even through the leather of his boot, he felt a rib give way to the force. The boy rolled over, grabbing his side, coughing.

“How amusing! You think your life worth that of nine fully trained men. Ten really, though Garren had his end marked out for him already!” Spittle hung from Aiden’s lip, a fury growing in his voice. “Surely you didn’t imagine that he’d be allowed to live?” He started laughing, the idea having just crossed his mind. “You did, didn’t you?”

Micah sat with his chest heaving, clutching his small hands to his side, moaning. Aiden stood up, walking back to lean against the wall.

Tadraem walked over to where he stood, and handed him a scroll wrapped and bound with a red tie. “Micah’s execution has been set for Friday’s eve. See to it that everything is set in place. You’ll address those who will be present. Any — ” Tadraem was interrupted by the sound of the door being thrown open.

A short man with a receding hairline and beady eyes stumbled into the room. Bits of food and drink were splattered across his shirt, which hung loosely about his wide midsection. He was out of breath and struggled to get his words out. Aiden felt his own impatience and was about to say something when Tadraem stepped forward.

“Spit it out!” he yelled. Taking the little man by his shoulders, Tadraem placed him squarely against the wall adjacent to the door.

“Something’s happened with the humans. Something is very wrong.”

Aiden furrowed his brow, and tilted his head. “What’s happened to the humans?” The man swallowed, sucking in air through his stout, uneven nose. “There was singing heard.”

Aiden looked at Tadraem and laughed, relieved. “You’re an idiot. They do as they are told. I have commanded many times that my wife sing to me, and she does without question. Do you know anything a — ”

The man interrupted him, and it took everything in Aiden’s power to keep from reaching out and snatching him up by his neck.

“I heard of other things; glances, words spoken, things done that were not commanded.”

Aiden’s anger was replaced by an icy shiver. It worked its way up his spine, and rested somewhere near the base of his skull.

Tadraem whispered, “Nonsense. You see what you want to see.”

Aiden listened to Tadraem, but recalled the night in the sanctuary that the humans turned to face Garren. Had Tadraem forgotten, or had he not witnessed it?

“Speak with the others if you don’t believe me.”

Tadraem stepped away from the man, cautiousness in his smile. “The wardens, I assume?”

He nodded, pulling his worn sleeve back onto his shoulder from where Tadraem had taken hold of him. “They’ve found something now. I couldn’t get close enough to see what it was, but they’re hovering around it in the outer courts.”

Aiden pushed past the man, out to the hall. He heard Tadraem speak with the guard concerning Micah before turning to catch up with Aiden, both of them rushing to the human courts.

When they got there, Tadraem held out his hands and yelled above the noise. “Step aside!” The wardens shifted aside, making room for Aiden and Tadraem. Everyone eyed Aiden as they’d once eyed Garren, terrified of his power. The evening before had solidified that with Tadraem’s dramatic return from the dead, seemingly through Aiden’s powers.

As they came closer to the center, a hush fell over the crowd. Written almost illegibly, five letters were etched into the stone of the street.

Irial.

It couldn’t have been a human. Aiden kept repeating it in his mind as he shook his head in disbelief and confusion. What was
Irial?

“What does this mean, my Lord?” A tall, thin warden leaned toward Tadraem.

“It means nothing,” Tadraem scowled. He grabbed the first human he saw, a fully grown man just a hair taller than Tadraem. The human’s muscles were well defined, likely from a much earlier raid.

Taking a dagger from his belt, Tadraem lifted the man’s hand, and delicately balanced the tip of the blade on his palm. “Let us see if he speaks of his own accord. If he says anything in his own defense, I swear upon Ciara herself, I will let him go.”

Aiden could detect nothing in the human’s expression indicating that he could act on his own. No fear. No malice. Nothing. Tadraem pushed the weight of the dagger through to the hilt. Some blood fell to the ground and pooled, while the rest of it traced the line of the human’s arm and dripped down his side.

Still, the human was silent.

Tadraem, pleased, jerked his dagger from its position and spun on his heels to face the wardens.

“Nothing. Can you not see that one small fragment of a memory means nothing? A human risks his own life to scribble nonsense in a place where no one will ever see it? Meaningless. Let them sing; let them suffer to give even the slightest grimace. They are still slaves. They are still powerless, sniveling, useless, pitiless creatures that cannot even bathe themselves without our approval.”

The wardens applauded at Tadraem’s words, but Aiden barely grinned, his chest still struggling for breath. He felt his tongue tingle as he remembered the day he’d questioned Garren’s decisions openly. He could still feel the burn, he could still taste the metallic salt of the blood in his mouth. They’d turned to him. The humans had felt his presence before he spoke, and turned to face him as he entered the sanctuary. Aiden had sensed something was amiss that night, but couldn’t put a finger on it. He didn’t know what had come over Garren since Palingard’s fall, but Aiden wasn’t even able to get a word in to warn him.

Garren is dead, what difference does it make?

Tadraem had continued talking to the crowd, but Aiden tuned him out. He looked up to see that everyone was scattering, and going back about their business.

“Stop looking so cowardly. The others may fear you now but they won’t continue to fear you if you don’t show them their rightful place — and their place is not to stand about reading into things that are of no consequence.”

Aiden almost asked him about the incident with Garren, but thought better of it. “I haven’t seen such things from the humans. Not when I’ve been in the outer courts to — ”

Tadraem walked closer to Aiden. “Do I look foolish to you? Please tell me that you are not under the impression that I am an idiot as well. You may have thought Garren ill advised, but don’t accuse me of such things. I know very well that Sara hasn’t stepped foot in the outer courts since she was brought to you. I have chosen to overlook that transgression for now, but do not try my patience by acting as though I cannot see what is plainly in front of my face.”

Aiden lowered his head. “I’m sorry my Lord, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Stop whining. One thing you will learn with me is that I will not tolerate juvenile behavior. I didn’t allow it with Garren, and I’ll certainly not bear it from you.” Tadraem walked over to the man who stood, still bleeding.

“Go take care of your wound.
Hathride nortuk.”

Aiden couldn’t imagine what the humans would be like to manage had there not been a command created to instruct them to do whatever was necessary to survive. For most humans, that consisted of everyday things like hygiene, eating and sleeping. He found amusement in not giving Sara the command until morning, when he knew that he would generally be out of his chambers for the day. He would laugh to himself when he awoke to find her crumpled into a heap on the floor, her legs having given out on her in the night. This particular morning had been the worst yet. She was shaking so, he threw a blanket over her to spare himself from the irritation of seeing her. He supposed it was the chilled water that had done the trick. She would grow to appreciate his mercy when he chose to bestow it. When he did let her lie on the floor to sleep, she would be grateful, remembering the long, painful nights when she stood.

Tadraem left Aiden. Alone, he stood in the street for some time just staring at the ground. He knelt down to trace the letters with his finger. The stone was cold, jaggedly carved, each stroke of the instrument wrought with great effort. It looked like a child had written it, but there were no children in the outer courts. Only adults had been brought back to Eidolon, the children from the various regions were raised in captivity for servitude. No, definitely not by a child — if this word had been written by a human, it would have been an adult. He rose to his feet, and looked around.

Droves of humans walked past him. There was no need to separate males from females; they couldn’t act upon any feelings or instincts they might have harbored otherwise. They were randomly placed alongside one another, except for the breeders, who resided in an entirely different part of the outer courts. There was a section close to the dividing wall where each breeder was granted his or her own quarters. It really wasn’t for the human, but for the Ereubinian whom the human was married to.

Tadraem was right, he’d never stepped foot inside of the small house that had been set aside for Sara. It would have looked like all of the others to him, except that his name was etched onto the doorway.

He had started back toward the castle when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He pivoted to see what was behind him.

Nothing.

He surveyed the humans who brushed past him. Not a thing out of the ordinary. Aiden, feeling his temper flare, changed directions and walked further into the outer courts. Like a fish swimming upstream, he waded through the hundreds of humans going in the opposite direction. He pushed some of them aside, one or two falling as he began to pick up speed. Something was coming over him. He could feel it in every muscle — a prickly thing, piercing him in a thousand places all at once. Once he neared the edge, he slowed, then stopped next to the gates of the city. He stood there, his hands on his hips. His breath had started to come in halted pants and he cried out in frustration, running one hand through his hair. Again, he felt a chill race up his back. He turned, looking all around him. With wild eyes, he scanned the multitude of blank faces, searching for anything to explain what was raging in his head.

It was as if time slowed and the crowd parted to reveal, for just a hair’s breadth of a second, a face. The stare that met Aiden’s was enough to cool his blood permanently. The distinct jaw line and dark, knowing eyes had haunted him many times before, but not like this. Not in the light of day. Not outside of his conscious thoughts.

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-
T
HREE

S
TILL
A
LIVE

D

uncan trudged through the snow-laden woods, his mind alive with memories that he’d long buried. It was dark, and the sounds from the feast inside the castle echoed among the trees. He kept his head down as he continued on into the forest.

When he’d first returned to Adoria, he’d walked this particular route countless times. He could trace every step blindfolded. Every rock and root had become familiar. It was all he could do to keep from thinking of what he’d left behind. It had been difficult not to return to Palingard once Gabriel was dead. He could still remember the first few months he spent in Ruiari, mourning the loss of his friend. He’d never been married, and had never expected to fall in love.

He met her daughter first. Lilly was a very bright, outgoing child, full of life and imagination. She reminded him just a little of Ariana, with perhaps a tad more restraint. He was in the marketplace when he discovered her following him. He dodged in and out of several tents, just to make sure that she was indeed on his heels, and not just coincidently taking the same path. He finally felt her eyes right on him, and twirled to catch her. She was still a girl at the time, not quite eleven years old. She stopped, openly surprised at his speed, and started giggling.

“What is it that you find so fascinating about me?” he asked, bending down to see her better. Her eyes were a deep brown with little flecks of gold.

“You have something in your pack that’s moving,” she said it as though he were ridiculous for not having noticed it himself.

He looked at her, wondering if she were trying to fool him, before he remembered that he’d indeed taken his furry friend along. He smiled and pulled his satchel around to undo the clasp. A small, black- and brown-striped head poked its way through the hole in the opening. Her eyes lit up as Duncan pulled the ferret from the bag and held him out for her to hold.

“Will he bite?”

“Only sour little girls, but you don’t look sour to me.”

She laughed and took the ferret with both hands, cradling him to her neck. “He’s so soft. What’s his name?”

Duncan thought about it for a moment. He hadn’t named him, but the look in her eyes promised him utter disappointment if he didn’t come up with one.

“Why don’t you ask him?” He thought he would buy himself some time. He watched as the little girl leaned her ear down to the tiny cold nose and jerked her head up seconds later, a great revelation on her lips.

“Spoon!”

He laughed. “What?” He shook his head, not entirely certain that he’d heard her right.

“He said his name is Spoon.” She shook her head. “What a silly thing to name a weasel.” She then turned to address the ferret. “He should never have picked such a funny name.”

“Well, I suppose you will just have to give him a new name,” Duncan laughed.

She stopped stroking his fur and turned a serious glance toward Duncan. “Oh no. He says that he likes his name very much. I couldn’t take it from him.”

“Alright then,” Duncan sighed, wondering how he’d become such a soft-hearted fool. “I do have a favor to ask of you. Do you think you could do something for me?”

She nodded.

“Spoon doesn’t really have a home, and I think he would very much like to go home with you. You see I’ve been looking for a little girl, just like you, to keep him for me. Do you think you could do that?”