Keir (18 page)

“Why have you brought me here?” he demanded.

“I promised to meet with you and speak again,” the Emissary reminded him.

A glimmer of understanding tempered the anger in his gaze. “I remember,” the minister agreed. “You have wasted little time in making contact.”

“I have already waited far too long. Are you able to assist me?”

“Perhaps. It will not be easy. My antipathy is well known, and to suddenly express an interest will arouse suspicion.”

The Emissary approached the minister slowly, and the reptilian soldier focused watchful red eyes on him, his stance once more guarded.

“You said a meeting could be arranged,” the Emissary persisted.

“Only a possibility. The queen has a way to contact her, being a close friend, but she would need motivation. An outsider wishing a meeting would not qualify.”

“What reason would she require?”

“A threat, perhaps. The possibility of danger to her people, perhaps even to her family.”

The Emissary considered his words, head tilted to listen to distant whispering. “I will think on it. Perhaps we can meet again.”

“Perhaps,” R’hellek offered.

The Emissary extended a hand, revealing the clear crystal he had used before. “If you wish to speak to me, if you have news,” he breathed, “hold this in the palm of your hand until it sings to you. I will hear you.”

R’hellek took it, testing its weight before placing it in a pocket. “Until then.”

The minister flinched as black shadows swamped him, encasing him in a black shroud. He vanished within it and it dissipated into empty space.

1.       
   Chapter 8
   

The domineering square turrets of the North and South Towers lay to either side of the Great Hall, behind the court. The northern tower overlooked its smaller sibling by two stories, capped by a flat pyramid-shaped roof and a metal spire in the shape of a dagger blade, pointed upwards.

The entrance lay unguarded, an omission that caused Quin a tremor of disquiet as she followed Keir inside. Even though her sanctuary on Lyagnius was impregnable by normal means, the gateway room was always watched if she was away on her travels. The lack of security here seemed completely unnatural.

All six upper levels of the tower housed private apartments for members of the Family, with the topmost set of rooms reserved for special guests. The stairs zigzagged up one side of the tower. Each level had a landing and a locked door for access. Keir paused at the third level with a haunted expression on his face, staring at the door as if expecting it to yield some vital secret to him.

“What is it?”

“I lived here, once. Before...”

Quin brushed his shoulder in commiseration, recalling a fragment of the memory she had shared with him once, of a privileged childhood that had ended in torture and a life of exile.

He shrugged and turned to follow her upward, his bare feet soundless on the stone steps.

At the top, she hesitated, even more suspicious to find Serena’s door without any guard. Her sixth sense whispered a warning at her, yet there was no indication where the danger would come from, what form it might take. The moment they’d entered the tower, Quin had known that they were trapped and committed, as surely as prey within the jaws of the hunter.

She touched Keir’s shoulder, drawing his attention.
“Watch the stairs,”
she warned him, before approaching the locked door.

She extracted her tiny vial of metal-eating acid and dripped it with precision inside the ornate lock, taking great care to keep it clear of her skin. It worked with deadly swiftness, and she grasped the twisted handle, turning it. The door gave a mournful creak as it swung open, revealing a brightly-lit bedchamber with a thickly-draped, four-poster bed and elaborate furniture. A figure sat on the side of the bed, head bowed and hands clasped in her lap. She made no move as Quin opened the door wider.

“My lady Serena?” she murmured, puzzled by the lack of reaction.

The woman turned her head. “Who are you?” she asked with a perplexed frown.

At that moment, Keir joined Quin in the doorway and Serena leaped to her feet, one hand to her mouth. “Keir?” she cried and reached out with both hands.

Quin stepped aside as he darted past, straight into his mother’s arms. Serena sobbed quietly, whispering to him as he held her, his head buried in her shoulder. After a moment, she put her hands on either side of his face to look deep into his eyes, her expression full of pride.

“My son,” she said, her voice throbbing with emotion.

“I am sorry–” he began.

With a light touch of her fingertips to his mouth, she silenced him. “No, my son. None of this was ever your fault. Remember that. I will not have you apologize to me, not ever.”

“You don’t have time for that now,” Quin interrupted, not wishing to intrude but aware that time was against them. “We need to go.”

At her insistence, all three of them moved toward the door but were halted by the appearance of a group of soldiers, and a single voice. “I think not.”

Flanked by soldiers in plain garb, Rialto stood before them, a look of blatant triumph on his face. Keir put his arm protectively around his mother’s shoulders and Quin took a deliberate step forward, to place herself between them and the armed guard.

“Pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” Quin taunted him, intent on drawing his attention away from his son and ex-wife.

Rialto grinned wolfishly, unperturbed by her words. “Do not rely on your magic to save you from me, witch,” he told her. “Tomorrow, you will all burn in the square before the palace, and I shall watch.”

“What about a trial, Rialto?” Serena asked in shocked tones. “The death sentence can only be given after sanction by the court.”

“Trial is not required for a charge of witchcraft,” he returned. “I have spent my evening in the court library. If sworn statements have already been submitted, as they have, the commander may order execution where the safety of the city is concerned. There are uncounted testimonies against you and Keir. Even my mother cannot stand against this ruling. The elite of the city have given me the rights and the means to demand your deaths.” He took a step closer to Quin, and she tensed, but returned his glare without flinching. “You will die tomorrow, witch, along with the creatures that summoned you. I look forward to it.”

“I won’t allow it,” Quin told him. “You have no right.”

There was a rasping, ringing sound, a herald of danger, and Quin froze, the tip of Rialto’s sword pressed suddenly against her throat. Hardly daring to breathe with the point digging into her flesh, she nevertheless met his gaze in defiance.

“Use your magic and your companions die,” he growled in warning. The blade shifted downwards until it reached her waist, and Rialto poked her spitefully just above her belt. “Remove that and throw it away.”

Quin obeyed, clicking open the buckle and tossing it aside in one fluid movement.

His sword never leaving her, he retrieved the belt and threw it to the nearest guard for safekeeping. “And as for you, my dear,” he said, his eyes turned to Serena. “Your heartfelt confession to aiding and abetting a demon in court today has likewise condemned you. It was prettily said, but a fatal error on your part.” He grinned. “Until dawn,” he told them, sheathing his weapon as swiftly as he had drawn it. He turned on his heels and left, but the four guards took station around the door as he closed it.

Her breath shivered out.
Wow, he has some issues!
She hugged herself, annoyed by the shaking in her hands.

“Quin?”

“I’m all right.”
She turned to smile at him in quick reassurance, grateful for his concern, before casting a meaningful glance at Serena. Keir nodded, sliding his arms around her and whispering words of comfort through her tears.

Leaving them together, Quin moved to the window to give them some privacy. Through the flawed panes of glass the opulent buildings of the northern section of the city and the misted mountains beyond, lit by the twin moons, dominated the view.

Keir and his mother sat talking quietly as she made herself comfortable on the padded window seat and stared up into the sky at the major moon. Smaller than the lone satellite of Earth, its cratered surface gleamed pale rose, its tiny companion a faded blue crescent just below. Closing her senses to the room around her, she leaned back on the cold, stone carvings and focused her mind, reaching out to the far side of the city where her companions were waiting.

“Taler. There’s a slight change of plan. Listen carefully…”

* * * *

Keir and his mother sat together on the edge of the bed. She had regained her composure somewhat, one of his hands held tightly in her own as if she feared she might lose him again if she let go.

“You are so grown up now,” she said, with a touch of sadness. “You were just a boy when I saw you last. It has been so long since I’ve seen you like this, seen your face…”

She broke off as Keir flinched at her words, but he could not bring himself to speak or meet her gaze. All those years apart and he had never once tried to find her, despite her constant presence in his thoughts. Her own testimony in court had told him of her desperate search for him. Remorse clawed its way into his stomach.

“Why did you leave, Keirlan?” she asked. “Where did you go?”

“I saw myself in the mirror,” he murmured, finding his voice at last. “What I was and what they had done to me. I saw the monster they were all afraid of, and I tried to run away from it, too.”

“Oh, Keir, I wish I could have stopped them. I wish I had known what Rialto had planned. I would have given anything for you not to have suffered that.”

But you did not stop them,
he thought, regretting the unspoken accusation even though it was the truth.
You let them take me.

“How did you find me afterward?” he said aloud.

“I made him tell me where you had been taken. I was too late to stop them. I made sure we stayed hidden after that. Every day I thought you were going to die, and yet you fought to survive. Such strength you had. And then, one morning, you were gone.”

There was no reproach in her voice, but guilt still tore holes in his chest. He had been so immersed in his own misery he had not stopped to consider how she might suffer with him gone.

“I thought you would be safer without me,” he said, but that was not the whole truth. He hesitated then said, “I did not want you to see me like that.”

“I had already seen the worst of it.” She reached out a hand to touch the tattoos on his chest and he had to force himself not to recoil.

Serena halted and withdrew her hand. “I think there are some clothes in the chest,” she told him, releasing his hand.

Keir rose and went to the end of the bed where a heavily carved chest sat on marble feet. Lifting the lid revealed various pieces of clothing inside, all in neat folds. He took Quin’s cloak from his shoulders and laid it on the bed with care. After a few moments searching, he found a white shirt and plain gray tunic, pulling them over his head and smoothing them straight. With his skin fully covered, relief soothed some of the anxiety knotting his stomach and he knelt at his mother’s feet.

“Forgive me for all I have done to hurt you,” he murmured. “It was never intended.”

“Then you must forgive me for letting them take you that night, for I can never forgive myself,” she returned, pulling him upright to sit beside her again. “Now, tell me about your Red Witch. Does she truly practice powerful magic?”

He glanced across at Quin. She sat very still in the window seat, moonlight adding a ghostly sheen to her hair and face. It gave the illusion of her shimmering with a supernatural aura and it was hard to believe she was no sorceress, having brought him back from death. Even though he shared her talent to travel from one world to another, even though she had told him it was science and not magic, her abilities still seemed mystical to him. He touched her mind, but it was far away and he knew she would not hear a word he said.

“It seems like magic,” he said. “But there is no evil in it.”

“She has risked much for you.”

“Yes, and I would do the same for her.”

Serena smiled at the heartfelt intensity of his words. “She is a good friend?”

A good friend?
The thought warmed him. Yes, she was that. But then he felt that strange thrill again, remembered the heat and softness of her body beneath his, and panic set his heart hammering against his ribs. He swiftly crushed the memory, buried it deep inside lest he let even a whisper of it breathe free. If Quin ever saw it, ever sensed that momentary longing, he could not face the revulsion he knew he would see in her eyes.

“Yes,” he managed, his voice tight as he forced his feelings into a sealed shell inside.

“I wish I had time to learn more about her and how she rescued you.” She sighed and a slight quiver filled her voice. “Dawn will come all too soon.”

Keir edged closer, placing an arm around her shoulders. Serena leaned into him, and the familiar herbal scent of her hair swept him back to his childhood. To a place of comfort and warmth, before the silent figures had taken him away.