Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1) (3 page)

Someone rapped on the door, interrupting her
brooding. She padded over to open it a crack and she peeked out. A
thin ray of light shone into the hallway and illuminated the figure
standing there. Katrina gave her a smile and a quick wave, and
Layna smiled back, opening the door wider for her to enter.

“That was a close one today, huh?” Layna
commented as her friend slipped inside and plopped onto the bed,
indicating the close call with the Jezebel’s rage earlier.

“Ugh,” Katrina groaned, “Imagine if I hadn’t
gotten the wine there in time, or – gods forbid – I was still in
the room and she had to be in the presence of someone so far
beneath her?” Katrina shuddered theatrically and then rolled her
eyes. “I swear, sometimes I wonder why I’m still here,” she paused,
and then held up a finger. “Oh yes,” she said emphatically, as if
really just remembering, “it’s better than living on the streets.”
She winked.

Layna simply gave her a sympathetic smile.
Katrina’s parents had died of a sickness when she was young, and
Katrina had actually spent a fair portion of her childhood on her
own. While she joked about it now, she had opened up and confessed
to Layna not long ago how rough it had really been. Layna admired
her courage; her own life, which until coming here had seemed full
of problems, now seemed like a fairy tale in comparison.

Katrina hit her with the pillow playfully.
“Now, why you’re here I still don’t understand. Why put up with the
evil lady when you could go home to the country?”

Layna picked at a feather that was poking out
through a loose seam. Then she gave Katrina an impish grin. “But
then who would you talk about all your crushes with?” Katrina threw
the other pillow at her, and Layna laughed and tossed them both
back. “So, did you talk to him today?”

Katrina groaned and put both of the pillows
over her head. In a muffled voice she complained, “I tried to, but
he makes me so nervous!” She stuck her head out from underneath the
fluff, looking very pathetic. “Why can’t I make my mouth move when
he’s near me?”

Layna patted her on the head. “It happens to
the best of us.”

Katrina narrowed her eyes and sat up.
“Speaking of which, you’ve been losing your tongue and all other
mental capacities in the presence of one Lord Gryffon lately. His
complete deliciousness aside, need I remind you that he is off
limits? Dangerously off-limits. Jezebel-will-eat-you-alive limits.
I don’t know how it is in the country, but in the city, the nobles
are not to be messed with. I say this ‘cause I love you. Look, but
no touch.”

Layna waved it off. “Got it, drool all I want
but remember I’m still just the one that needs to clean it up
afterwards.”

Katrina continued to give her a look, turning
her head so that one bugged-out eye was looking straight at her,
and then raising an eyebrow.

“Alright already stop it. And get outta here,
I have to get to bed.” Layna shooed her out. “Oh, and tomorrow say
something to him. Try ‘hello’. Start small, work yourself up to an
actual sentence.”

“Ha ha,” Katrina laughed, standing from the
edge of Layna’s bed where she had perched herself and skipping to
the door. She opened it, but turned back halfway through, “Don’t
forget what I said.” She pointed with two fingers to her eyes and
then pointed to Layna. Layna blew a kiss at her. Katrina fake
caught it and smiled, shutting the door behind herself.

Gryffon has a gorgeous smile
, Layna
found herself thinking as she stared at the door. And though she
mentally scolded herself for the thought, it was, after all, her
own room and her own head. It wouldn't hurt just to remember...

*

Jezebel wiped a spot of blood off of her hand
and smiled sweetly at the man before her. “I am
most
pleased
by this interesting piece of information. I
do
so thank you
for sharing it with me,” she mocked as she caressed his bloodied
face. He was almost unrecognizable as the handsome man that Devon
had brought to her. She hooked a finger under his chin and tipped
it upwards so that he was forced to look at her. The eye that
wasn’t swollen shut already cringed at the contact, and he jerked
his head away in disgust, spitting blood on the ground in front of
her. With amused contempt, she watched the spittle make a dark
puddle on the floor, and then crushed it into the dirt with the toe
of her shoe.

She stood over the man for a long moment
before turning to Devon. “See if you can't persuade him to tell us
a little more about it, won't you?” Devon gave her a lopsided grin
and moved towards the man once more in answer. With that, she spun
on her heel and stalked out of the room, indifferent to the grunts
of pain behind her.

She made her way up the winding staircase to
the main level of the manor. At the top, she paused to glance
through the peephole in the bookcase, to make sure that no servants
were present, before pulling the lever to re-emerge into the
library. She took a seat in the chair she had occupied earlier and
settled in to happily contemplate this new information.

To think, just hours ago I was worried
about the chances of success without my father's support. Ha! If
this man was telling the truth, and I think he just might be
-
she laughed to herself, remembering the moment that he broke -
I
may not need my father for anything anymore
.

She raised a finger to her lips and bit back
the grin that was widening as she thought.
Not that the prospect
of using a position of power that my father helped me attain
against him isn't an entertaining thought as well, but getting the
power without him and then rubbing it in his face is even
better.
Jezebel forced her shaking limbs to calm their excited
movement.
I cannot let myself get too excited before I know for
certain.
Even so, she couldn't contain the elation she felt at
the possibility of finally escaping her father’s control, and she
eventually abandoned all attempts to hide her mirth. It irked her
to no end to know that even though she could lie, cry, and
manipulate her father into almost anything, she still had to go
through him. But if she could find a way to make this work to her
advantage
...yes, yes the information just has to be correct and
it
will
work for me, I can't bear the thought of living in
my father's shadow for another second now that I have caught a
glimpse of escape. Whatever it takes, I will make it work.
Jezebel nodded to herself in decision and stood, making her way
back to her suite. She needed to get a good night's sleep so she
could start putting things into motion first thing in the
morning.

On the way to her room, Jezebel passed
Gryffon in the hallway and she moved to intercept him. “Gryffon, my
dear, would you like to join me for a nightcap?” She gave him a
seductive smile and moved towards her room suggestively.

“Thank you, but no,” Gryffon answered
shortly, trying to pass her.

She shifted, so that he was forced to brush
up against her as he passed, and she leaned in towards him. “Don't
forget why you are here, Gryffon.”

He paused mid-step and turned to her, giving
her such an intense look that it almost made her step back a pace.
But she held firm and narrowed her eyes at him instead. “I am
here,” he said slowly, “because I believed your lies, thinking that
maybe, just maybe, you were a decent person until it was too late.
Now I realize I was wrong.”

She sneered at him. “If it wasn't for the
money I lent to you, you'd still be out on the streets, not living
like you are, so don't try to blame your bad decisions on me.”

“Don't
you
forget whose money that
was,” Gryffon retorted angrily, “Just because your father turns a
blind eye to your hands in his purse doesn't mean that I don't know
what's really going on here.”

“My father gives me anything I want,” she
snipped. “That's how it always has been and how it always will
be.”

Gryffon opened his mouth again but shut it
without saying a word, shaking his head in disgust. He pushed by
her roughly and made his way down the hall, all the while
muttering.

“I always get what I want,” she yelled at him
and was rewarded by another angry look over his shoulder. She
laughed at him until he rounded the corner, and then she turned
back to her door. She was slightly put out by his refusal, but she
was not about to let that little set-back ruin her mood. He'd come
around eventually; he didn't have a choice.

*

“…as such, you may call me ‘Master’.”

“Yes, Master,” answered Jonathan without
hesitation. He fell into step behind the man as his new master led
the way back through the rows of hooded people. They filed out
behind them as they passed each in turn. Master led him to a small
room, near the entrance to the main temple, and motioned for him to
take a seat. The two men sat in silence for a long moment before
Master finally spoke.

“It is essential that the goals of the Order
be achieved for the good of all mankind,” he started.

Jonathan nodded his agreement emphatically.
The man paused, and Jonathan waited patiently for him to
continue.

“As you may know, the magic in Gelendan has
grown weaker in past centuries. The great mages of old have become
few and far between. The more time that passes, the more reclusive
they become, and the less of them there are to start with. It is
the hope of the Order to strengthen all of humanity by rekindling
the talents to prepare for the return of our god, Nuko.”

Jonathan braved a question. “How,
Master?”

The man did not seem annoyed at the
interruption, and, to Jonathan's relief, he answered. “Through the
efforts of people who have proven themselves worthy countless
times, such as yourself, we are working to identify all those with
talent so that we may better assess the situation. The Priesthood
and the Order are well intertwined, and we have contacts for you
inside the temple who can provide you with a list of names. As you
know, it is the law that all those finding that they possess
significant talent must reveal themselves to the priests. Then,
they must either be enrolled into the training program – paying the
gods for the gift monetarily – or, if they are unable to pay the
training fee, enter into the priesthood themselves – paying back
this gift by a life of servitude. Therefore, they should have
records of most of the talented, and much of your task will simply
be organizing this list and double checking its accuracy. But you
must also,” Master emphasized, “make sure that you systematically
check for signs of talent other places as well, and do not assume
that all those who have it have come forward on their own. Despite
the threat of death as a consequence for not doing so, there are
bound to be those who won’t.”

“And what should I do if I find someone who
has not come forward?”

“It is not your job to report any violators
to the authorities, just to identify them to us with the note that
they are rogue. We are merely doing an inventory at this point.” He
handed Jonathan an envelope. “Detailed instructions are enclosed,
along with the names of the contacts I mentioned. I don't need to
tell you to dispose of this after committing them to memory.”
Jonathan nodded as he rose to leave, reading it as a dismissal. As
Jonathan reached for the doorknob, Master added, “If you happen to
see this,” gesturing to a peculiar symbol painted onto a parchment
on the wall, “make sure that you tell us. Perhaps soon I will be
able to tell you why. There are plans that have been set in motion,
and the completion of those plans is imperative to the success of
our operations.”

Jonathan nodded his understanding and
continued towards the door. He opened it and headed back out to the
streets and to his regular life.

CHAPTER 3

A rooster crowed, and Layna cracked open an
eyelid, groaning to herself.
How can he be so lively this early
in the morning?
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed,
and cringed as her bare feet hit the cold stone floor beneath them.
On tip-toe, so as to avoid as much contact with the frigid surface
as possible, she made her way over to the fireplace. Although the
signs of winter were just barely beginning to show outside, Layna
still thought it was much too cold for her liking. She sacrificed a
piece of wood from the small pile allotted to her to warm the chill
from her bones. She hurriedly pulled a tunic over her head, and
stood in front of the fire as it slowly dissipated heat throughout
her small room.

As the last of her morning chill faded away,
she busied herself with making her bed and using the wash-bin to
clean up. A long bath would come after her morning chores in the
barnyard.

She pulled thick leather boots over her feet,
and picked up a basket to head to the chicken coop. The halls were
quiet in the morning, despite the fact that most servants were
already up and about, readying the manor for their mistress's
morning appearance. Like Layna, many of them held the same distaste
for such early hours, so other than a few mumbled 'good morning's,
the atmosphere was subdued.

Layna made her way down to the back entrance
to the house and quickly slipped out the door, trying to conserve
as much warmth inside as she could. The cold, raw morning air bit
at her bare skin where it was exposed through holes in her tunic.
The sharp intake of breath that the shock of it caused seemed to
freeze in her lungs. She shivered.

As she drew near the barnyard, she heard a
grunting noise. She looked curiously around the corner of the pig
pen where it seemed to be coming from. There, Devon was struggling
to lift a large burlap bag over the fence and into the mud hole
that served as a compost pile. Layna paused for a moment with
indecision, but then shrugged off her unease and moved towards him
to help. She grabbed a corner of the bag and together they lifted
it over the fence. It made a dull thud before water started seeping
up through the frost and it slowly sunk a few inches.