The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series) (12 page)

I very carefully extricate myself from Shey, who is snuggled up next to me still asleep.  Despite my telling her that we need to take some time apart after finding out that we’re engaged and adopting babies, I caved in to her pleading of “I ne
eeeed you,” and crying eyes.

What a sucker.

We’ve been Znuul’s “guest” for five days now. It hasn’t been too bad except for the fact that this will make the fifth day that I’m wearing these clothes. They are beginning to take on a life of their own; especially the tee-shirt and underwear.  I may have to go commando.  It makes me wish for a doppelganger sighting soon.

After slipping
on my pants and dress shirt as quietly as I can, I silently slip out the door.  It’s very early, but breakfast is needed and at least Znuul keeps the bunker very well stocked.  In addition to the large refrigerator in the kitchen, there’s another one along with a pair of deep freezers in the garage. Bunker indeed, I think our host is a doomsday prepper; but at least he keeps civilized rations. Smoked salmon and bagels are calling loudly and asking that their friend Mr. Coffee join the party.

I get past the
island bar area of the kitchen and the oversized red door down the hall leading to Znuul’s bedroom opens. Out slinks Sil wearing a tent that I am guessing would be one of Znuul’s tee shirts. She literally freezes in place upon seeing me, standing there with eyes wide and some kind of alien expression. After a second or two I break the awkward silence with a cheery “Good morning!” and then make tracks into the kitchen for my breakfast.

First stop for me is coffee. I grab a coffee bag and put it in the maker and am about to press the brew button when
I hear Sil declare, “Princess was a little loud last night.” I hit the button and turn around. Sil isn’t waiting for a reply - she’s just making a bee-line towards her room.

“Guess so
,” I reply quietly to her back as she moves on. Upon a little reflection, Shey was a little more exuberant than usual.  And that look on Sil’s face, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.  Since when did she give a flip about anything that anyone thought?  I dismiss all of it as the wanderings of a mind that needs coffee.

And boy do I.

I grab a mug out of the cabinet, fill it before the pot is fully brewed, putting the cup under the stream. Next up, bagel.

“Good man, making the coffee
,” comes Znuul’s deep voice from the hall.  I’m not the only early riser in the bunker, apparently.  I grab another large mug and fill it.  When he rounds the corner I hand it to him, which gleans a smile from his beastly face – I guess the need to appear human has passed.

“Such service
.”

“Right place, right time brother Znuul”

He takes his coffee and walks around the kitchen bar so not to crowd me while I prepare my much needed breakfast.  "A bagel for you too sir?" I ask to be courteous.

“Surely
," he replies.

“So much for taking
a break, eh? I hear your pixie put on quite the show last night.” Even though my back was turned to him working on breakfast I could still imagine the lascivious wink that went along with it.

“
Yes, I caved in.”

“So, the wedding’s back on?”

My shoulders sag at that and I turn around to face my brother in revenge. “No wedding. No adoptions.  You want capers on your bagel?” 

He tells me
, “yes please.”

I turn and
finish preparing our breakfast.  I slide his over the island to him, grab the coffee pot, set it down on a hand towel and settle into my own breakfast.  It is quite a comment on my life that eating a civilized breakfast with a huge, purple-black winged and horned demon creature seems ordinary.

Hunter leaps up on the chair next to Znuul and puts his
front paws on the kitchen bar.  Znuul tears of a piece of smoked salmon and tosses it in front of him. Hunter looks over at me and I pay salmon tribute to him too.  It is his bunker after all…  After hunter scarfs up his treats, Znuul gives him a scratch and then turns his gaze back to me with a smirk.

“So, what did you do to that succubus to have her even a little bit concerned
about being seen leaving my quarters?”

That
puts a puzzled look on my face – she was what?  “Nothing,” is all I can think to say.

Znuul nods back at me knowingly, then cracks that car dealer smile. “
Ah, maybe that means you should be doing something. Just ask Kitten, Silithes did a real number on her last night. I doubt she’ll be up for a while in between the two of us…”

“Enough already
,” I say interrupting and holding up a hand.  “I don’t care for details other than knowing your pet is going to be okay.”

“Sil played nice. Kitten is quite alright and was happy when she drifted off.  Back to point, you
should bed that succubus. You have no idea what she could do for you, not to mention what you you’d do to her as her wielder.”

I could argue, goodness knows it would be something to do instead
of watching TV while waiting for Z’s doppelganger to show.  Instead I just give him the dead eye stare I use to get Sil to back off.

Funny, doesn’t work as well on him - he just laughs and mocks my stare back at me.

We share a laugh and agree to disagree. Znuul refreshes his coffee and heads off to his office to see if there were any sightings on the DVRs or newsfeeds. His office is rather cool, it reminds me of Edgar’s – multiple televisions on the walls, a hefty computer rig, huge desk and glass meeting table.

I consider following him, but a little quiet is
a good thing too, so I take my mug to the cavern sized living area and plop down on a sofa. Over the course of the last five days, Znuul’s shared a good deal of information with me – apparently he has put together a rather potent intelligence network in a relatively short time. Impressive. We’ve shared some conjecture about the mole in the Protectorate.  Znuul’s opinion is that Alistair is dirty and can’t be trusted.

Apparently that was Grey’s point of view too.
Or so Znuul tells me.

I enjoy the solitude and coffee.  The quiet is nice, but not long lasting.  I hear Znuul’s office door open, I look over towards that hallway at the other side of the kitchen.  I’m not disappointed.  Znuul has his grin on.

“Round up the troops Mac, we weren’t the only ones having fun last night.”

I knock on all the doors and yell
"Get to the office for news!"  Hjuul is roaming the big open space of the garage. I open the door and find him waiting patiently.  Dog hearing - obviously.  He trots in and makes his way towards the office. I follow my hound.

I figure the best
place to sit is one of the two chairs in front of Znuul’s desk. You have to figure that those are the hot-seats.  They are large, comfy and swivel. I’ve come to appreciate our host’s taste in furniture.  Hjuul plops down in the middle of the floor

I lean into Znuul’s desk
, “So, where did you appear this time?” That comment gets me a toothful grin.

“You are so impatient
.  Wait, the others are coming.”

We are joined by a groggy Pffiferil who takes the other seat
in front of Znuul’s glass desk.

“I take it we donna have to be cooped up no more?”

“Maybe,” is Znuul’s teasingly resonant reply punctuated by his trademark oversized grin.

Vets arrives and Sheyliene is right behind her.  Neither sit down.  Vets, because she’s at attention, arms clasped behind her back and Shey, because she doesn’t want to
sit in a room with Znuul.

“Good enough” Znuul announces.  He picks up a pad and punches it, actions being reflected on the screen.  The various televisions spring to life, some with different feeds broken into quadrants.  All of them are reporting the attack at Akshardham, in Delhi India.

The carnage is unspeakable. Though the news comment
ators seem to prove that wrong, describing every detail they can with zeal. Reporting on tragedy, after all, is the business of news and as of lately, business is good.

Znuul punches the pad and the screens go blank. He stands up.

“So, do any of you still have doubts about my lack of involvement in these matters?”

Nobody has anything to say – except Shey. “Well maybe you weren’
t there.  But you are still General Znuul and you can’t be trusted.”

Znuul’s face scrunches. “Anyone else?” he asks as he looks around the room.

None of us respond, so Znuul puts his hand on the wall and mutters a phrase that results in a cascade of red glyphs appearing about the walls. “You all are free to come and go as you please. I know new clothes are needed.” 

The look
he throws at me lets me know I am every bit as ripe as I thought I was.

Heads turn as Sil almost enters the room.  She makes it as far as the doorway
. Cradling a large mug of coffee and still wearing Znuul’s huge tee-shirt, knotted at the collar to keep it from falling off, she says “We’re free now?”

“You are
,” is Znuul’s resonant response.

“Good, I’m tired
of that damned corset.”  With that Sil saunters over to me and holds out her hand.  Translation: credit card, please.

I go for my wallet
but am stopped by Znuul’s calm, deep voice.

“You’re dead and need to stay that way Arthur. Purchases will put you on the grid.  All shopping is on me.”

Sil turns her attention to Znuul and arches an eyebrow. “Good enough. When do we go?”

“When Kitten is ready.”

That gets a “hhmph” from her succubusness as she turns to leaves us all as we were.

“
I have to chuckle, but my chuckle is interrupted by Znuul’s proclamation “Now we speak of serious things.”

That
statement gets everyone’s attention.

As he p
unches on the pad, Znuul brings up a map of the world and looks at me.  “You may have heard of the walker – a gentleman that appeared around the Mideast proclaiming that the gates of hell would be opened and all the non-believers would be cast down.  Here’s what we know of where this guy appeared.”

The map beg
ins to spring yellow dots where the walker appeared.  He certainly covered some territory.

“Now, what’s funny is that
Jalal - 'The Lion' Bahar, a known terrorist and instigator seems to follow our friend the walker.”  Znuul touches the pad and all the yellow dots disappear.  “Now, watch this... yellow is the watcher and red is Jalal.”

He punches the pad and a yellow dot appears.  He punches it again and a red appears in the same area.  He keeps punching and the same pattern
continues.

“Within one week, Jalal is there after the walker
fanning the flames of conflict. Almost without fail. And always, like I said, stirring up trouble.”

Vets speaks up.  “The human Jalal is our target then?”

That gets a huge grin from our host. “Yes, lady Vets - you are correct.  We acquire him, interrogate him and find out where the walker can be found.  Because the walker is most likely none other than old Maldy himself.”

“Damn!” I shout out.  It all makes sense.  “What are we waiting for?”

“Confirmation of Jalal’s current location.”

That makes sense
too. “How long until we can find him?”

That gets a shrug from the big purple-black beast and I understand
now we will have to wait for intelligence.

“Glad to see you’re excited at the prospects though Artie.
You know, we do have a real lead.  Why Alistair and The Protectorate don’t choose to act on this is beyond me”

He punctures that with a knowing smirk.

And I get it, finally. The Protectorate has the same information – Znuul's source must be from inside the Protectorate. Someone wants attention pointed elsewhere and Ahtsag is the perfect foil.

Damn.

And I’ve been sent to die twice – by none other than Alistair himself.

Quacks like a duck.  Waddles like a duck.  Maybe it’s a duck.   Maybe Alistair is dirty?  And if he is…  oh shit, my head reels. There’s a deep resonant chuckle and the clapping of very large hands and I look up to our host.

“Someone just figured out what the old man figured out a quarter of a century ago.”

“Crap sticks Z
.”

Znuul looks around the room to Vets, Pffif, Shey, and Hjuul. 
"I need everyone to leave but Sheyliene of T’uel Faeden and of course, you Arthur," says Znuul. "We have private matters to tend to."

Vets nods and makes her way out, followed by Hjuul.  Pffiferil however holds his seat with eyes trained on Znuul.  “I see ye be using the formal language ana that little bit donna be lost on me.
I not be leavin’ if the pixie be in peril.”

“No peril, just serious matters that could affect both me and your wielder. Better a trouble averted, no?”

Pffif pops off the chair in his usual way and trains his eyes on me with a serious squint.

Turning to Shey he says,
“I be a listenin for yer call." Then his eyes turn to Znuul.  “Or yer’s too if the fairy be deciding to shoot ye with her arrows.”

They exchange a smile and Znuul asks Pffiferil to close the door on his way out.

There’s a moment of silence, which I presume is calculated by Znuul and of course Sheyliene breaks it.

“What!”
she demands.

“I need you
to patch things up with Kitten, little pixie.”  Znuul’s tone is different, almost melodious and hard to believe, maybe even an octave deeper.  Shey reacts to that change in tone by tensing up and her eyes going very wide.

“Arthur, we’re in danger
,” she says to me obviously shaken.

I look over to my brother in revenge wondering what in the hell he’s doing that has her so freaked out.

He must have guessed what I was thinking as he continues. “Arthur, this is the tone of voice I used addressing her and her sister after their capture.”  He looks back over to her, then back to me in a measured way. “Your Pixie and her sister killed seventeen of my most elite before they were brought down and before me.  Did you know that?  That is no small thing,”

Shey in the mean time is on the verge of losing it. She is trembling and I am guessing getting ready to grab a weapon.  I’m going to say something to diffuse the situation, but am beat to the punch.

“Hear me, daughter of Gowaille, sister of Neiliene.”  Then his voice shifts into that one that we are more accustomed to. “I’m messing with you Pixie, calm down.  You call me General Znuul, and that I am no more.”

“Fuck you flying
pig monkey!”

Leave it
to Shey to sum up her feelings with such eloquence.   At least that didn’t appear to rankle Znuul; he smiles at her.  Then he stands from behind his desk and holds out his hands as if to say, “truce?”

“You call me by my old title -
one I don’t hold to anymore or care to.  So, I wringed my memory and made it a point to remember every single detail of our very short encounter. I may even remember more than you as I am no summonling.” He looks over to me, then back to Shey. “I’ll spare the details.  Truth is, it's quite strange we are brought together again. Don’t you think?  Of all the souls in the multiverse – you and I reunited?  Why would that be?”

“You don’t have a soul you demon bastard!”

I am surprised by Znuul’s response to her retort.  No snappy response. No righteous indignation   He just closes his eyes, makes a face like he just took a bite out of lemon and says “That is just low.”

Znuul’s response embolden
s Shey. “Yea no matter what you do, you’re always less than us you soulless monster.”  Shey even punctuates her statement with fists on her hips and a squaring of her shoulders.

Znuul’s response
is to sit down, run his hand through his hair and look to me. “I have a soul, it is different – yes.  But I live.”  Then he looks to the newly empowered Shey with downtrodden eyes, “I need a favor of you for the sake of me and your wielder.”

“No favors for you!”

“Hear me out please. I need you to patch things up with Kitten.  If you don’t I fear she’s going to sneak into your room and empty her 9mm into your head while you sleep.”

That got both of our attention
s.

Znuul looks at Shey with tired eyes
, “Listen, I’ve tried to tell her you are due and allowed your feelings towards me, but she is after all, one of the enthralled.  Think if someone was saying really bad things about Arthur here. For goodness sake remember when you were under Maldgorath’s sway.  What would you have done…”

“Shut up!” Shey shrills at him.  “That wasn’t me!  That was never me!”

Znuul holds up his hands with eyes closed and head turned away as if to avert some wave of terrible force.  His eyes open and he trains them back on Shey. “I know. But you understand - if anyone can - the depth of attachment by one of the enthralled.”

“Then break the bond, demon.”

It was my time to break in.  Znuul had shared the whole Kitten predicament with me.  Now I have to stand up for my brother.  “He did Shey, it ended badly. Suicide attempt. If he didn’t give a crap for her, he’d just have let her go and she might be…”

“Reall
y,” she asks interrupting me.

Znuul and I both nod “yes” to her.

It takes a lot to back my pixie warrior off, especially when she “knows” she’s right – which is always.  But maybe it was because I said it. She takes a deep breath and sits back down, cross legged, putting her chin in her hands. Eyes blink.

There
is silence for a while, but Znuul breaks that.  “Sheyliene all you owe me is revenge, and hatred - I know this.  But if Kitten hurts you, then I am compromised with Arthur, and if you hurt her, Arthur is compromised with me.  I do not impose my will upon her, like Arthur does not upon you. Surely if anyone understands the mind of the enthralled it would be you.  Can you at least make things so that she doesn’t see you as an enemy? And maybe help her consider releasing our bond? After all, she doesn’t have to be my thrall to be my pet.”

Shey looks to me for direction and I nod a “yes” at her.

She digests the information for a bit, “So if I convince her that being your slave is not good?”

Znuul smiles at that.  “You have my word, that if she wishes the bond to my will broken
, I will allow it without hesitation and with a smile on my face.  You know me, Sheyliene – I am not a liar - deceiver yes, but liar - never.”

“Ok
ay.”

“Then we are done here
," says Znuul. "Please, you be the one to wake Kitten – give her about two hours more.  Silithes was with us last night and she’s... in need of extra rest.”

Shey giv
es me a look of shock and reminds me that Sil is indeed a total slut.  Znuul asks her if we could have a moment alone to discuss strategy.  After a kiss on my cheek and a flit out of the room, Znuul I are alone.

He reaches over to the wall and mutters something, after which the walls li
ght up in blue runes and my ears pop.

“For your ears only Arthur.  You can’t have an office without some security measures to
ensure prying ears don’t hear. First and most importantly, you need to know I have not lied to your pixie, but I have deceived her.  I don’t expect her in any way to change Kitten’s mind. By the tearing of the black pool itself, I have tried.”