Demon's King

Page 15

In my physics lessons, I was taught that in a vacuum, two objects, regardless of weight, would fall at the same rate of speed. I was about to see if two very similar objects, dropped at the same time, would provide similar results. Aiming carefully and doing my best to time it with Teeg's arrival, I dropped the stone blocks. Both my targets were hit squarely and fell to the ground, unconscious. I ducked immediately when they were hit; the third man was shooting at me quickly and knocking chunks off the top of the building when Teeg landed a very good hit to the shooter's jaw. He dropped like a sack full of redfruit.
"Reah, come down here please." Teeg was staring at our would-be attackers. He didn't sound happy.
My journey down would have been so much faster and infinitely easier if I could have skipped down. Instead, I had to find more handholds and make my way down slowly. I hopped the last few hands distance to the ground.
"Lenden, would you mind carrying her now? I might be persuaded to swat her ass a couple of times," Teeg grumped. "Astralan, can you carry these back to the house and lock them up?" He jerked his head toward the three attackers. "Ask your brothers to keep an eye on them. Make sure they're not power holders." Astralan nodded and folded the three away. Teeg was still glaring at me as Lenden lifted me up. He carried me carefully as Teeg made his way toward a doorway at the back of the open area. Teeg knocked on a door to the left but there was no answer.
Cautiously he tried the door—it pushed inward as he touched it lightly. It was his turn to use fingerspeech—I learned he knew it well. He told us to tread softly and follow him. We did. What we found inside the home, if that's what it was, was a bloody battlefield.
Six people looked as if they'd struggled before they'd died. Blood was everywhere. I'd seen similar scenes before, but this time the smell combined with the sight of the bodies made me gag. While Teeg went through the place, room by room, Astralan came back with Stellan. As I did my best to hold my breakfast down, Teeg went from one body to the next, checking for any signs of life. He didn't find anything.
"Clean it up," he whispered to the two warlocks. I was feeling more ill by the moment, but I did my best not to show it. Lenden still held me, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my head against his shoulder. He rubbed my back gently as he watched the two warlocks do their job.
We were folded back to the house shortly afterward, and the moment I was set down, I ran. Straight to the bathroom in my suite I went, sliding to the toilet on my knees and losing everything I'd had for breakfast, heaving until there was nothing left. And then heaving past that for a while. Teeg came in while I was coughing up the last bit of my stomach's contents. I wanted to tell him to go away. Shout at him to go away. He didn't. Teeg stayed until the very end, when I could finally let go of the toilet and flop miserably onto the floor. I lay there, curled up and unwilling to move. I might have been moaning, too—I can't say for sure.
"Reah, sweetheart?" Teeg was washing my face with a cool cloth. I shuddered. "How long were you sick, baby? Did you hold this back all that time?" Moaning again, I huddled into a smaller ball. I still felt ill—thought I might have to heave again.
"Shhhh, it's all right, Reah. Come on, let's get your mouth rinsed out and put some clean clothes on. Then we'll put you to bed. Marc will bring something to put in your stomach—it doesn't need to be empty, love." Teeg was stroking hair away from my face—it had tangled while I heaved and was now in a mess. Lifting me off the floor, Teeg did just as promised, holding me up while I rinsed out my mouth with shaking hands. Then he pulled my clothing off and put me in clean pajamas. Marc brought in clear broth and crackers. Teeg sat beside me while I did my best to eat some of it. He got me down for a nap, then. Jes was peeking in the doorway most of that time, but Teeg waved him away.
"Go to sleep, baby," Teeg put his fingers against my forehead and I was out immediately.
* * *
Gavril swept up sawdust and wood shavings. Dormas had put him to cleaning up after he'd sanded cabinet doors most of the night. "It always pays to clean up before starting again the next day. Don't ever leave a mess behind," the old vampire advised. "If you work hard the next six eight-days, I'll show you how to varnish what you're sanding." Gavril leaned on his broom for a moment, feeling weary and ready for bed. He nodded to the old vampire and went back to sweeping.
* * *
"Sweetheart, wake up, it's time for dinner." Teeg woke me up from an extended nap. My stomach still felt uneasy, as if the slightest thing might set it off again. I brushed my teeth and used mouthwash—my mouth still tasted awful. Teeg hovered while I changed and dressed. He didn't even argue when I braided my hair and tied it at the end with a ribbon I found in my things. I was barefoot when Teeg lifted me and carried me to the kitchen—I still hadn't spoken to him.
Marc and Jusef had cooked—the fowl was good, I just didn't feel like eating much. Teeg hauled me into the media room and pulled me against him, rubbing my belly while we sat there and watched some old vid he'd pulled from somewhere. I huddled against him after a while. He kissed my forehead and let me lean on him while he rubbed and stroked gently.
Teeg went to bed with me, too. He let me walk to the bedroom on my own while he followed close behind. "Just to make sure you don't wobble," he teased. That was an about-face from earlier in the day. I wanted to ask him about the six dead men we'd found. Also about the three he'd taken prisoner. I didn't. Things were unsettled for me at the moment and I was unsure how to handle any of it.
"Reah, are you going to talk to me again? I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have. I was upset when you were screaming that you hated me." Teeg was pulling me against him, sliding my body across the sheets until I was snugly imprisoned against him. His dark eyes were staring into mine from very close quarters—he bumped his forehead gently against mine.
"Couples fight all the time," I muttered.
"Reah, I don't like fighting with you. I can't help feeling inadequate against two other mates who aren't holding you hostage." His fingers were gentle against my face, stroking and tracing the line of my jaw.
"Will I ever see them again?" My lower lip trembled—I couldn't control it.
"I'll do my best to make it happen, baby." Teeg crushed me against him. I wanted to ask him if I'd see Gavril again too, but that would truly make me cry. He just held me tighter and rocked me gently, muttering nonsense into my hair.
* * *
"Well, well. Look what we have here." Erland walked around the two prisoners he held inside a powerlight cage. Erland Morphis was one of three warlocks who possessed the ability to form a powerlight cage. These two would not escape. King Wylend and Erland's son Ry, were the other two strong enough to do it.
Wylend was reading the note that arrived with the two rogue warlocks. Teeg San Gerxon had sent them as a gesture of goodwill. Wylend had been searching for these, but they'd had power-seeker abilities, eluding all of Wylend's special forces. How Teeg San Gerxon had managed to capture them was a mystery. Wylend wasn't going to argue with the results—these two were a part of the small army of rogues Zellar had trained before getting killed.
"Which cores did you drain before you were captured?" Erland demanded of the two. They shrank back from Erland, although the cage provided some protection. They'd thought a powerlight cage was only myth and rumor. They were learning better, now.
"We didn't drain anything—we did pull power away from a few," the shorter one grudgingly admitted. They weren't going to get away from the King of Karathia or his right hand, Erland Morphis.
"Did you not realize that anything pulled from the core will upset a fragile balance? Did Zellar not explain that to you? Of course not." Erland tossed up a hand. "You've killed millions, more than likely, unless they start the exodus now. The climate will fail, plants and animals will die and then the people. Is that what you wanted when you decided to play your little power games?" Erland was dangerously angry.
"Zellar said it wouldn't hurt if you took what you needed occasionally," the taller one snapped.
"There," Erland hissed, "is a reason that this is forbidden spellwork. It kills the planet from the very first tapping. It may take a while to die, but you've opened the drain. All life on those worlds will run out that drain now. It would take more power than you can possibly imagine to make it right again. Tell me the names of those worlds, so we may pass along the information. Do it now."
"What can provide that power?" The shorter rogue asked.
"The Larentii might do it, but as you know, they do not interfere. They will not lift their hands to save what you have destroyed."
"Why wouldn't they save a planet?" The taller one huffed. He'd never seen one of the blue giants, but their abilities were legendary.
"They have made a vow of noninterference, you imbecile. Give us the names of the worlds you have destroyed with your greed and foolishness, and your deaths will be swift and painless. Failure to do so will force me to call my blood warlocks." Wylend examined his fingernails. The two rogues stared at one another inside their cage.
"Roorthi," the shorter one said. "Xordthe. Shillverr."
* * *
"What's this?" Tory accepted the envelope from his mother, Queen Lissa.
"Something that came with my other mail—ever since they learned I like paper messages, I get swamped with the stuff. You should hear Grant and Heathe grumble about it." Lissa shoved her strawberry blonde hair behind an ear and went back to sorting through other messages she'd received. All of them had been carefully checked before they were handed to her assistants. One had come addressed to Torevik Rath, Le-Ath Veronis.
"How did they get my name and why would they be writing to me instead of you?" Tory's face bore a puzzled frown as he settled on a chair in front of his mother's desk.