Dark Hope of the Dragons Page 23

  “You!” Avaline’s soft snarl surprised him. “You destroyed her by not being here earlier. How dare you show up now?”

  Dephithus sneered at his mother, keeping his voice equally low when he spoke. “She doesn’t appear so upset right now.”

  “Myara has appearances to keep up, and she cares enough about the people around her to do so.”

  Unlike me. Dephithus regarded his mother, her unspoken words resounding in his head, feeding the anger. Despite her the fury in her tone, she looked very unstable. The slightest push might drop her into a crumpled, weeping mass on the floor.

  “Get out,” she hissed.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Dephithus saw Mythan approaching, managing a polite smile and quick excuse for anyone who tried to detain him. The cold look in his den-father’s eyes warned Dephithus that it was time to leave. Touching his mother’s cheek with gentle fingertips he smiled false sweetness upon her. “Anything for you, Mother.”

  Dephithus departed swiftly, looking back once to see that Mythan had arrived just in time to catch Avaline as she began her transformation into that crumpled, weeping mass he had expected. Outside he walked rather casually down to the lower garden and waited. Eventually, much of the gathering would move outside to enjoy the perfect atmosphere of a mild night in the well-lit gardens. Here he might just have another opportunity to ease his own pain.

  As the last rays of sun faded away over the horizon and the air began to cool, revelers started drifting out into the gardens as expected. Uninvited guests drifted up from below the palace as well. Among them Dephithus found his new companions, minus two of the usual members. Darkin hailed him as they wandered up to where he was sitting. Dephithus nodded in response and gestured to the unoccupied space around him. As they picked seats, Suva greeted him with a more than friendly kiss that Dephithus returned willingly. Darkin looked undisturbed by the gesture.

  “Where are Kip and Lanz?” He asked, his nerves dancing with some strange blend of apprehension and anticipation.

  Darkin shrugged. “Haven’t seen them since yesterday. They do their own thing sometimes.”

  Dephithus almost laughed with the giddy burn of his hidden guilt.

  As Suva moved to take a seat, Darkin leaned towards Dephithus. “Looks like someone is moving in on your territory.”

  Myara had entered the garden and was standing among some others just a short distance away. The young soldier she had been dancing with noticed her and smiled as he began to work his way in her direction. Myara smiled and nodded back, blushing lightly. Dephithus’s tenuous control snapped, and he relented completely to the dark anger that infected him. Eager to be unleashed, red rage swept through him, giving full rein to the dark influence driving him to hurt and to punish another. She was his. They had consummated their love only yesterday amidst much suffering. No one was going to move in on that raw ground.

  He was much closer to Myara than the other soldier and it only took a few long swift strides to put him next to her. With the momentum of one last long stride, he backhanded her across the cheek. The force of the blow and the surprise of it knocked Myara off her feet into one of the hedges.

  “Whore,” he accused as she stared up at him, her eyes brimming over with tears, her hand touching her bruised face in disbelief.

  For a second, he stared down at her.

  I love her. The thought made his head hurt with such agony that he grabbed it for fear it might explode. He had to banish that thought. Had to chase it away to the dark, tormented depths of his mind. He surrendered whatever was left of him to the daemon-seed within.

  A roar of anger alerted Dephithus as the young soldier who had been dancing with Myara came to her defense. Dephithus swung around and twisted to the side in time to dodge the soldier’s lunge. Turning fast, he dove into the back of the young man who was already off-balanced by his failed charge. The soldier toppled over, landing hard on his side, and rolled onto his back. Dephithus pinned him there, little more than an animal now in his fury, and drew the serpent dagger. With one slash he split the soldier’s face from ear to nose.

  In an instant the nature of the struggle had changed as the soldier, no longer concerned with Myara, fought desperately to free himself. He tried to grab Dephithus by the arm only to have his palm slashed open. Dephithus slashed madly, lost completely in blind rage. Several other soldiers came to their comrade’s aid, straining to pull him off. When they finally wrenched him away, Dephithus was covered in blood and his victim had stopped moving. Myara, still backed against the hedge, reached a shaking hand toward the fallen soldier. Dephithus lunged against his captors and Myara pulled back with a cry of alarm.

  “Arrest him!”

  The hands holding him tightened in response to Mythan’s order. With a surge of panicked energy, he thrashed wildly, breaking free, and bolted. He could hear the soldiers he had escaped shouting for help and giving chase as he leapt over several benches and decorative plants, shoving anyone who blocked his path roughly aside. Many of the soldiers coming up from duty or practice to partake of the festivities had tethered their horses outside the gardens. Dephithus wasted no time being picky. He grabbed the reins of the first mount and leapt up, kicking the animal to a full run. There were towers in the palace for relaying messages to the gate guards, but not all of those were staffed these days, so Mythan had no way to pass along word to stop him from escaping the palace grounds.

  When he neared the first gate he slowed his mount enough for the guard to recognize him. He began to feel a hint of apprehension as he neared, then the gates swung slowly open. Once the gates were opened enough for his mount to fit, Dephithus kicked the animal faster again and bolted through. The second gate was usually kept open from sunrise to sunset, staying open later during celebrations. They had only started closing it when Dephithus passed through. One of the startled guards called after him in anger at his speed, but he was busy making good his escape.

  In the city, he slowed his mount to a trot and wound his way through the streets in a senseless spectrum of twists and turns to keep the route unpredictable. The people of the city had gone mostly indoors except for the odd individual traveling to or from a tavern or inn. Outside of one inn, Dephithus waited for the street to be empty then he traded his winded, lathered mount for another one tethered at the hitching post. With a fresh mount, he headed out of the main part of the city toward the surrounding farmland. He had a destination in mind and once he was near, he discarded this mount as well, sending it off in the direction of the city with a firm smack on the hindquarters.

  Dephithus stood in the roadway for a moment amidst the stand of trees that spread out for some distance in every direction from the point he had chosen. It was nearing full dark and he hoped Darkin would choose to travel home that night. He usually did with the logic that being home to do a few chores in the mornings kept him supplied with a warm bed and a ready meal when he needed either. Dephithus peered down the dark road for a moment then climbed up into a tree that hung over the way and waited.

  While he sat there, he tried to wipe the blood on his hands off on the tree bark. Myara’s fear and her tears plagued him. Hate still burned in him, so strong now that he could hardly think past it. Somewhere beneath that was the guilt and the self-loathing. Somewhere deeper still, he wanted to die. He deserved to die for the things he had done. Of course, Myara had found someone else. He was ruined, and she knew it. They all knew it. He knew it. She had made love to him out of pity. He was sure of it now. The daemon-seed blazed in him. It had taken on a life of its own and it was stronger than he was. It seared his blood and jumbled his thoughts. He needed to leave this place. To take himself far away from here.

  He turned his head, feeling a call in that direction, something beckoning him. He should go. And yet…

  I love her.

  Myara face, tears streaming down her cheeks, filled his mind. He punched the trunk of the tree, the already torn skin on his knuckles tearing more with the force.
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  She was supposed to be mine. For a brief moment, she was mine.

  The moon was up full and bright enough that Darkin did not need to hold a lantern over his mount as he came down the roadway. His mount was a worn old farm beast that was probably the best his family had to offer to get him to and from Elysium palace grounds each day. When Darkin was almost under him Dephithus dropped from the tree in their path. The tired animal tossed its head and stopped walking but was otherwise undisturbed by the new arrival. If anything, the horse seemed grateful for a chance to stop. Darkin, on the other hand, looked less than happy to see him.

  “What are you doing here?” Darkin hissed under his breath as if he feared someone else might be listening.

  “If there were any soldiers nearby we would already know.” Dephithus stepped up beside the horse, placing a hand on the animal’s neck near the rein so he could grab it if his quarry tried to escape. “I find myself in need of a place to stay.”

  Darkin scowled and started to shake his head.

  The moonlight was bright enough that Darkin would be able to see the threat behind the look Dephithus gave him then. He touched a hand to the serpent dagger for added effect.

  Darkin had seen what he did to the soldier and, after a moment’s hesitation, seemed to decide against pushing his luck. Not for the moment anyway. “You can sleep in the hay loft, but in the morning, you will leave when I tell you to and not return until I say.”

  Dephithus nodded. “Fair enough.”

  Darkin’s displeasure was plain in his moonlit glower. “Not really. If they find you, my whole family will be held accountable.”

  Dephithus shrugged, revenge was sweet. “Did he die?”

  “The soldier you attacked?”

  Dephithus responded with a sour look. “Who else?”

  “Eventually. They tried to save him, but he had lost too much blood. You certainly ruined Myara’s…”

  “Enough!”

  Darkin fell silent and Dephithus walked along beside his horse without speaking again. Perhaps Darkin realized how little the truth about Larina was worth now, or maybe he simply feared his unpredictable companion. Regardless of which it was, he did not say anything at all after that. When they arrived at his home, Darkin showed Dephithus where he could sleep and gave him some worn blankets to use for his bed. There was mistrust in his eyes that Dephithus could see, but Darkin was not one to hide such things. No words were necessary. Both of them knew where they stood with the other. Darkin could turn Dephithus in tomorrow if he wished and Dephithus could turn his wrath on Darkin and his family at any moment tonight. For now, they would both keep their peace.

  “Sleep well and think what you will do come tomorrow,” Darkin sounded uncharacteristically weary when he spoke, but there was a determination in his eyes that promised Dephithus this would not be his haven for long.

  “Do the same, my enemy.”

  Darkin’s forced smile had a faint edge of sarcasm to it before he left the loft to Dephithus and his torment. By morning, he had sprinted out into the woods outside of Elysium, running from something inside him. The daemon-seed pulled him toward the caves far away. Myara kept him close. Together, the two made him a crazed beast who barely resembled the youth he had been.

  *

  Amahna and Rakas decided to travel to Colvan, the Storm Dragon in Whay.

  Colvan was one of the eldest of the dragons and his location put them only one dragon away from Imperious. Returning to Imperious for their research would have been foolish knowing that Dephithus would certainly seek his revenge upon them if they dared to go there. When they reached Colvan, Amahna and Rakas stopped at an inn in Whay and coupled passionately. The next morning, he was gone, taking with him nothing more than the clothes he was wearing. After several days Amahna knew she had finally won. He would not be coming back. Somehow the victory was hollow, but at least his absence would allow her to focus her full attention on the task she had been given.

  Theruses had not been entirely correct when he said the dragons were no closer to freedom. There was definitely more power in the web of dragons then there had been the last time she tapped into it. Over the past several months it seemed they had somehow pooled together more of the power they had been locked away from. It was nowhere near enough for them to free themselves, but there was no telling how much more they might pull in.

  Every day, Amahna sat just out of sight of Colvan and probed gently into the power of the dragons, searching for some indication of what this power they had amassed was going to be used for and how they were accumulating it. Was it through Dephithus as the daenox was? What were they planning to do if not free themselves? It would take a long time to do so at this rate of accumulation, though they had been waiting for ages already. She had to touch the web gently with the daenox and move slowly to keep from having her meddling noticed by the dragons. There was really no way for them to keep her out, yet, they might have some way of hiding their actions from her if they knew she was there.

  One morning she sat again behind the same group of bushes and faced the stone dragon in the cemetery. Sighing with the weariness of boredom, she closed her eyes and reached out toward the dragon web on a tendril of daenox. The web was, in her mind, configured much like a spider web of pale green strands. The daenox she used was a deep purple, barely discernible from the blackness around her vision of the web.

  Amahna sent her tendril of daenox out toward the center of the web when the whole structure suddenly pulsed a blinding white. The power in the strands began to move rapidly to one point, leaving the thinnest threads of power to hold the web together. Amahna knew where the focal point was immediately. The power was being pooled in Imperious with Vanuthan. Without hesitation, she pulled on more of the daenox within herself and prepared to travel to Imperious. She cursed Rakas now for his absence. It would take at least two full days to make the trip alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Amahna was not at all prepared for the chaos that had befallen Imperious since her last visit. The inner and outer walls were heavily patrolled with foot soldiers pacing between the towers on top of the wall and several mounted soldiers making circuits around the ground level perimeter. She was forced to use much more of the daenox than she had hoped to get from the graveyard out through the walls and around to the front gates of the Elysium palace grounds so she could arrive from the appropriate direction. A tall, dark-skinned man who was broader through the chest than her horse stopped Amahna at the front gate.

  “What business?”

  Amahna was taken aback by his abruptness, but judging by the other guard’s slight cringe it was simply this man’s way. “I am here to visit with my sister, Avaline de NuTraven.”

  “Dismount please.”

  Amahna did as requested, watching with curious surprise as the large man searched her packs.

  When he finished with a satisfied grunt, he faced her, his gaze dropping to her belt. “Do you have any weapons other than that dagger?”

  “Certainly not. Might I inquire as to why you are treating me like a common thief?”

  The large man scowled and the other guard stepped in to intercede. “Pardon Kota,” he offered an apologetic nod to the large man—Kota apparently—as he interrupted. “We mean no disrespect, my lady, but there have been some—” his eyes drifted uneasily to Kota and back to her again, “—incidents. We are just trying to keep everyone safe.”

  Amahna narrowed her eyes. “What kind of incidents?”

  Kota took over again, waving the other soldier back to his post. “The Lady Avaline will tell you what she wants you to know. You will be escorted to the second gate and from there we insist that you head directly to the palace and make no stops until you have arrived.”

  Amahna mounted up again and passed through the first gate. She made no attempt to question her escort, as the woman looked almost as friendly as Kota. At the second gate the woman hailed the guards and gave them leave to let Amahna pass, reminding her o
nce more that she was not to stop until she reached the palace. Could so much have happened that Imperious was already regressing to the war wary ways of times almost forgotten? She could now feel the strong center of daemon power that was the seed they had planted in Dephithus somewhere outside the city. It had grown considerably. She was tempted to go in search of it, but the suspicion she would face at the gates for turning back so soon was not worth the trouble. They had expected Dephithus to give in to the pull of the daenox and leave Imperious long before now. Something within these walls must have a strong hold over him if he was still so near and she had a feeling she knew what—or rather, who—it was.

  At the palace Avaline greeted her with tear-stained cheeks and puffy red eyes.

  She hugged Amahna desperately and wept for several minutes before collecting herself again. The damp spot of tears left on her shoulder vaguely annoyed Amahna, but she was much too curious to learn what had happened to waste any energy on it. With Amahna to release her sorrow upon, Avaline proceeded to go over all the terrible events that had occurred with Dephithus, starting with his sickness the day after his birthday. Amahna hung on every enticing detail, knowing when Avaline told her about it that Larina’s death was certainly no accident. She knew also that the daemon-dog that killed Vicor was undoubtedly protecting Dephithus because they were kin, in a way. The brutality of the young soldier’s murder in the garden only four days past surprised her some. Then again, the seed of daemon power should have driven him mad long before now. She could only assume the dragon power within him had helped him fight it as long as he had.