Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne (15 page)

And he is no threat to you, Ryan said inwardly, doing nothing to hide her thoughts.

Abigail did not respond, merely smiled her cool smile. She leaned over to retrieve her book from the end table, and Ryan knew she had been dismissed.

CHAPTER 16

RYAN STOOD IN THE SHADOWED ALCOVE. The last time she had stood in this position, she was about to stand trial for her father’s murder and her failure to take his place in the hierarchy. The irony was not lost on her.

The Great Hall had been significantly modified for this occasion. Its standard structure was unalterable, for it was many stories under ground, possessing impossibly high ceilings supported by walls of solid rock. Alcoves were carved in the rock walls and balconies hung from extraordinary heights. These features were unchangeable. But it was now decorated in a formal style with finery that covered centuries. Ancient, priceless tapestries hung with renaissance artwork. Golden statues mingled with irreplaceable marble carvings. Candles, lamps, and torches cast a warm glow, flickering light in all directions. The enormous chamber was lit entirely by flame.

Susan Ryerson sat toward the front of the assembly in what she was certain was a place of honor. She wished she had been sitting in the back of the room. She and Raphael were attracting an inordinate amount of attention. They were by far the youngest in the room, probably by several centuries. And she was definitely the only Young One. Her newly acquired senses were only making things worse because she could hear the varied whispers and speculations regarding her presence. The proximity of so many of the Others would have been agonizing under normal circumstances; the heightened expectation and excitement due to the ceremony made it unbearable.

Susan felt an immense presence and looked up to find Marilyn standing in front of her. This attracted even more attention as the eyes of nearly everyone in the room followed the dark-haired beauty. She was wearing a stunning, blood-red gown that somehow would have been just as appropriate in the year 1350 as it was at the present. Desire and longing trailed her like some great, invisible veil, complementing the outfit.

Marilyn’s dark eyes flashed with enjoyment; she was obviously in high spirits. She was quite aware of the doctor’s discomfort. “It is interesting, is it not, the currents that flow between our Kind?”

Susan glanced around her. That was a huge understatement. It was as if some great web of sensation bound them all together, each movement, thought, and emotion sending vibrations throughout, felt and experienced by all the rest. Some, like Marilyn, had the ability to influence the entire web, collecting strands by mere movement, slicing through filament as she pleased, leaving a swath of pleasure and destruction in her wake.

To Susan’s chagrin, she felt the presence of another One who had such ability in even greater measure. She turned at Abigail’s approach, realizing that now, for certain, everyone in the room was watching them. The pressure of so many eyes was now inconsequential compared to the power of the two standing in front of her. She had the sudden impulse to stand, then regretted the act when she realized how much shorter she was than both Marilyn and Abigail.

Abigail was dressed in her own stunning finery, a gorgeous pale blue gown that accented her smooth skin. Susan tried not to stare at the graceful neck. Abigail observed Susan’s discomfort with her usual cool amusement. She turned to Marilyn.

“This reminds me of the first time Victor brought Ryan to the Others, when she was a Young One and quite oblivious to our Kind.”

Marilyn assessed the memory fondly. “Yes, when she came in late and was dressed like a stable boy.” A thought occurred to Marilyn. “You did dress her today, didn’t you?”

The remark further amused Abigail, although there was a trace of concern in her reply. “No, I did not. I hope that was not an oversight.”

Marilyn was trying to picture what Ryan might show up in. “I certainly hope she’s not wearing jeans.” Whatever vision she had of Ryan’s attire obviously gave her pleasure, and Susan did not want to ask.

Another presence entered and Susan turned to see Ala and her closest consorts take their places. This redirected some of the attention away from them as Ala possessed her own massive gravitational pull. Susan took the opportunity to quickly retake her seat. Some unknown signal seemed to have passed as both Marilyn and Abigail began drifting towards their assigned places, Marilyn’s in the front row, and Abigail’s on the raised dais in the front of the room.

The energy in the room suddenly and dramatically increased, although to Susan’s eyes nothing had happened. She tried to assess the feeling clinically, trying to compare it to something she knew. It reminded her of the sharp drop in atmospheric pressure right before a major thunderstorm, the kind that made every living creature’s hair stand on end. The murmuring and movement in the room settled into utter stillness, oddly duplicating that strange calm right before a storm.

Ryan stood in the alcove, eyes closed, perfectly composed. She was utterly still, utterly controlled, in a near-perfect meditative state. No trace of her presence could be felt, even to Kusunoki who stood right next to her. He was astonished at her mental control. It was perhaps his proudest moment with his pupil.

Ryan opened her eyes, but still did not move. Edward felt the tautness in his master, like a bow string drawn to its extreme and then held motionless for an eternity. Although he had not drawn a breath in centuries, he found himself holding his now.

“It is time,” Ryan said simply.

Kusunoki and Edward stepped forward to open the great doors.

Ryan took a single step through the open doors and stopped.

Abigail, the only one facing the doorway, smiled. Slowly, one by one, people in the Great Hall began turning around, more to see what the matriarch was looking at rather than sensing anything themselves. They began to get haphazardly to their feet, some out of respect, some so they could get a better view. Ryan simply stood there, fully composed, as murmurs went through the crowd at her appearance.

She wore the breastplate of the ceremonial armor of the House of Alexander. As much a work of art as a method of protection, the black plate was elaborately etched with medieval design. It flared outward at the shoulders, giving an already formidable figure a terrifying size. A black tunic was worn over the armor, drawn at the waist, then divided down the front below the waist to the knees. The tunic was emblazoned with the gold dragon crest of the Alexander line. A blood-red cape draped around the shoulders flowed rearward, and a gleaming broadsword was attached to the waist belt. Ryan had foregone the gauntlets and greaves, opting instead for a simple black shirt, pants, and boots which offset the dramatic half-armor to perfection. The darkness of the outfit was in stark contrast to her light hair, which appeared almost white in the illumination of the Great Hall.

It was arresting, it was awe-inspiring, it was the clothing of a Warrior King, one as much from some alien future as from the past.

Abigail was greatly pleased. Every once in awhile, the girl took her completely by surprise. She herself could not have picked more perfect attire. And some present would remember it was exactly what Victor had worn to his coronation, albeit with some minor adjustments for space age materials.

Ryan still stood in the center of the aisle, Edward and Kusunoki flanking each side. No one seemed to be able to sense her presence, and she was exhibiting the same tautness in her body she had in the alcove. Edward, completely against protocol, actually glanced around him at the spectators. The fact that Ryan was capable of this always astonished him. He could feel as the Others began to reach out to her.

The tension in the room grew to excruciating levels. Some actually appeared distressed at the unyielding pressure they could feel but not fully perceive. All were now extending their senses in the direction of the One standing in the doorway.

Abigail watched the scene, entertained by the high drama. This was the equivalent of having someone stare into an unlit lamp, bemused as to why it would not illuminate, then having the light suddenly blind them. Only in this case, the intensity of the light was closer to that of an imploding star. Abigail sensed the girl was waiting for something, something from her. It pleased her.

Show them, she said silently to Ryan.

Ryan made a slight movement of her shoulders, a gesture so subtle it seemed little more than a shrug. But it had a spectacular effect. A tidal wave of sensation swept forward through the hall, striking each person to a greater or lesser degree. Susan nearly fell and was caught by Raphael, who himself stumbled at the blow. Marilyn caught her breath as the pleasurable heat passed through her. Ala closed her eyes at the wondrous feeling, and Abigail herself allowed the vibration to hum through her system. But she knew the girl was capable of more.

No, she directed silently, show them everything.

Ryan focused her concentration to a single point, then gave another shrug, a barely perceptible shift of her shoulder that caused the cape to flutter. Before she had merely released her perceptual veil; now she displayed her full power. A shockwave slammed forward through the assembly, not the kind emanating from a violent disturbance but rather the kind generated from a steady supersonic flow. If the Old Ones had the ability to influence the entire web, Ryan had the ability to shatter it entirely through pure harmonic vibration.

Which she chose not to do. Instead, she began striding forward with Kusunoki at her side. A slightly-numbed Edward snapped back to the matter at hand and quickly caught up. There was murmuring amongst the crowd, but beyond that, only the rhythmic clank of the sword at Ryan’s side made any noise in the Great Hall. Ryan appeared serious and solemn, her eyes on the dais ahead, fully mindful of the weight of the moment. But as she approached Susan, she glanced left and gave a quick wink, turning her head back forward without pause. Susan hid a smile. King or not, Ryan was still incorrigible.

Ryan started up the steps towards Abigail. She sensed the older woman’s great pleasure in her right now. Ryan normally cared little for ceremony but she understood the significance of this event, and whether or not it mattered to her did not matter. She stopped at the top of the stairs, facing the current leader of the Grand Council.

Abigail examined the girl. She was magnificent in every way. Possessing such remarkable androgyny, the garments she wore did not make her more masculine or less feminine, largely because such terms were both insufficient and meaningless for her. Strikingly beautiful, she could have modeled for the archangels of Renaissance paintings, although the angel she most epitomized was perhaps the fallen one.

Ryan was very aware of Abigail’s thoughts, and although fully cognizant of the reverence of the moment, could not resist insolently lowering her eyes so that they lingered on Abigail’s throat, then on the décolletage of her dress. Edward caught his master’s glance out of the corner of his eye and looked over, loudly clearing his throat. Ryan obediently raised her gaze, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Abigail forcibly suppressed the desire that coiled upward. The girl truly was impossible and would certainly pay for that later, King or not.

“Let’s get this over with before the situation degenerates entirely,” Abigail said dryly, loud enough for only those on the stage to hear.

With great formality, Kusunoki held out the cushion which held the ceremonial crown of the leader of the hierarchy. It was a beautiful piece, pure gold with little adornment other than its intricate design. Ryan went to one knee so that Abigail could place the crown upon her head. She, too, spoke just loud enough for those nearest her to hear.

“I don’t suppose this will be the last time in this position, crown or not.”

Kusunoki, despite himself, chuckled. Abigail ignored him, responding to the barb with her own. “I rather prefer you on both knees, my dear, if not flat on your back.”

Ryan stood upright, and although she and Abigail were nearly the same height, she appeared to tower over her for the moment. Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “I guess I deserved that.”

Abigail’s gaze lingered on her throat for a moment. “That and much more, my dear.”

Those in the audience could see what was occurring on the stage, but had the feeling there was far more going on than met the eye. Still, a great cheer went up in the hall as Ryan turned to face her Kind. After centuries, the hierarchy was complete once more.

As Ryan raised her hand, the hall fell into expectant silence. She spoke in normal tones, but her voice carried clearly over the expanse of the room.

“As is my right and prerogative, I name Kusunoki Masahige as my Second, to act in my behalf should the need arise.”

A pleased murmur greeted this announcement as Ryan continued.

“Although it is also my right to dissolve the Grand Council as a ruling body, I would ask that the Council remain assembled and available in an advisory capacity.” Ryan looked to Ala, then to Marilyn, then nodded respectfully to Abigail. “With the permission of the Old Ones, of course.”