Chapter 13 Trap #2
“When Seeyr aimed us towards this future, Ryder, it wasn’t just a future where Daemon and Julian met.
That was, undoubtedly, always going to happen.
No, what she wanted for Daemon was the whole package.
” Caemorn actually smiled slightly at this modern phrase.
“For Daemon to wake up with his beloved Julian and find Immortals who were more worthy–or as worthy–as he’d always believed them to be.
So what happened to us–to all of us–was necessary.
That is why these newest lives matter so much. ”
That was an interesting take. Caemorn had kept Seeyr prisoner while he was Preceptor of the Order.
She’d been imprisoned for far longer than that, but Caemorn had talked to her for hundreds of years.
And, of course, he suspected that Caemorn remembered their past conversations as Immortals too.
So he would know Seeyr’s capabilities far more than he would.
“That sounds like something she would do, though it also sounds incredibly difficult to accomplish,” Ryder admitted.
“Indeed, but she weaves fate and the future. She doesn’t just foresee it,” Caemorn explained. “She makes it happen.”
Ryder blinked. “She can do that?”
Caemorn nodded. “Which makes the actions of the Kaly slices all the more insane. I thought I could work against her, but she could see so much more than me. She could see all of my actions. I thought when I made those on her side bleed that I was winning, that I had gotten one over on her. But I never actually had. She sacrificed pawns while I thought them the king and queen.”
“So that’s why you aren’t as concerned about what happens this time around,” Ryder realized. “You trust her to have molded things to work out.”
Caemorn nodded. “Some will die. Some will suffer. But in the end, I am not a pawn. You are not a pawn. Balthazar, Fiona, Grayson, Christian and Julian are not pawns. So we shall be fine and part of Daemon’s glorious future.”
Ryder wanted that to be so. But they had already suffered and died to just get here so…
“True, but I died. You died. Grayson–”
“Death is nothing, Ryder. Surely you understand this now?”
“I don’t want to begin again. I don’t wish to lose Grayson once more. Not even for a moment,” Ryder told him. “I’m still so–so fragile. He is too. We can’t be apart from one another.”
“You will not.” Caemorn pulled out a handful of large soul gems. “If something were to happen to you, I would save your soul and bring you back. It is no small matter.”
“And if something happens to you?” Ryder pointed out.
“I have… backups,” Caemorn said vaguely then muttered, “One of whom thinks that he is singular.”
“Do you really think that Roan Tithe is still out there?” Ryder asked.
Another nod. “And likely working with Legion.”
A harsh breath whistled between Ryder’s teeth. “Of course, he would be.”
“And even if Legion thinks that they are smart enough to outwit him–”
“They aren’t.” Ryder grimaced. “Don’t get me wrong. Legion is cunning and their instincts are second to none, but you–I mean Roan–”
“No, you mean me,” Caemorn corrected.
The Kaly Vampire did not appear offended in any way.
Caemorn had always accepted every bad thing about himself, but now, it mattered.
Maybe because of Balthazar or Christian or Julian or Daemon or all of them.
But Caemorn never denied who and what he was.
He just tried to be different. He wouldn’t avoid knowing himself as Ryder was doing.
“You’re so much more than him,” Ryder finished lamely.
Caemorn did not even acknowledge the compliment. Maybe because it went without saying. It wasn’t a compliment but a fact. A simple, terrible fact.
And then Ryder felt it.
The danger.
The skin between his shoulder blades twitched. Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream. He breathed in deeply, searching for a scent that spoke of danger. But there was nothing. Yet his heart was beating like a drum.
Tarn and Farn looked at him and then at each other before staring out at the woods. But they saw nothing, sensed nothing. Yet Ryder’s fangs were out.
“Ryder?” Caemorn asked, then his head lifted as they both heard Balthazar’s voice.
We have a problem! Balthazar’s voice was filled with alarm, but also controlled. A weapon was placed inside the Helm basement. Grayson brought it back to life. It is hunting him.
Ryder wasn’t thinking as he turned towards the high, tall wall of Nightvallen. He would leap to the top and over. He would then shift into birds before flying right to where his beloved was.
But there was a spear tip in his way.
Borage! Ryder’s head jerked up. Caemorn!
“Remove that before I turn it into scrap metal!” Ryder growled.
“Think, Ryder! A weapon placed in the Helm basement? Grayson triggering it? What does that sound like to you?” Caemorn asked, his voice still calm, but intent.
That cut through Ryder’s fear for his lover. “Trap?”
Another nod. “We all run after Grayson and the city is exposed. There are plenty of Vampires and Immortals near Grayson to protect him. But it is only you and your people out here.”
Ryder gritted his teeth and nodded. “There must be something else planned.”
The urge to race to Grayson was still there.
He was fighting every instinct inside of him.
His mate was in danger! But Caemorn was right.
There were many Vampires and Immortals near his lover.
They would not let anything happen to Grayson.
Not to mention Grayson could defend himself.
But if he raced into the city, his Bloodline would follow and Nightvallen’s walls would be exposed. He had to stay. He had to think.
“And you can find out what it is. You know Legion. You might not wish to remember him, but you must, Ryder. Tell me what Legion intends to do,” Caemorn mirrored his own thoughts.
Caemorn’s silver eyes burned into his. Ryder felt himself helpless against the Kaly Vampire even though Caemorn was doing nothing, but asking him to remember.
What is Legion planning?
The current time fell away. He saw the flickering flames of a fire. Still in the Ever Dark. Twin moons. One blue. The other red. But he took no joy in it as he usually did. Camping in the Ever Dark was his favorite thing, but now nothing brought him pleasure. Ashyr was gone.
He must come back to me! I will make Kaly return him!
“Master?” A voice called from behind him.
He did not turn. Was it male? Female? Both? Neither? The thing was that he didn’t care. Not about this voice–tentative, loving, insistent–or any other than Ashyr’s. And that voice was silenced.
Forever? No, not forever! Kaly will be made to undo their wickedness! They will pay for everything!
“Master?” The voice was nearer, still tentative, loving and more insistent.
“What?” he snarled.
There were soft noises. The person was shifting from foot to foot.
There was a sigh. A long standing sigh, but still affectionate.
His Childe loved him. Of course, they did.
They always did. It was nothing special.
None of these new ones were. They were meant to simply be arrows in his quiver.
He sent them soaring out to his enemies.
They hit true. If they could be recovered, fair enough.
If not… also, fair enough. It mattered little either way.
This Childe had been shot and recovered often.
Like a bad penny.
“I know where Kaly has gone,” the voice said.
Weryn found himself unimpressed. He didn’t believe it. “Oh?”
“You don’t believe me.” Petulant. They were moving closer. Their steps were strange. Their voice, too. It sounded like it was coming out of a mouth not meant to create human words.
Ah, yes, Legion rarely shifts back to human form in the Ever Dark. For here is the only place they can be what they truly are: a monster.
“No, I don’t. How many times have I heard this and found nothing?” His voice dropped a register. He was growling more than speaking himself.
“But not from me,” his Childe retorted.
“You think your silence is wise. Something that sets you apart from the others. But it just means you haven’t the courage to speak,” Weryn scoffed.
More shifting of huge feet and a long sinuous tail that disturbed the dead leaves under the trees. “No, I only speak when I have something to say. Finding Kaly is not easy. Not if you truly have found them and are not just boasting you have.”
Weryn stared into the flames as his Childe settled down beside him.
Scales mixed with fur. Bone and flesh. The smell of rot and carrion.
His Childe truly was hideous, but they choose to remain like this though they must know that it repelled the pack from them.
No sleek panther or powerful wolf or fleet raven.
No. This was a creation of the Ever Dark.
Something dead and alive all at the same time.
Something created after Daemon went to sleep and madness had seemingly settled upon the land as much as it had upon them.
Kaly, how could you do it? How could you kill Ashyr? You forced me to go to war. You forced me to do all of this!
“So where are they if you truly know?” Weryn asked, disturbed by the monster at his side, and maybe also, the one in his head. Himself.
“They have gone to their palace in Nightvallen,” Legion told him.
“What?” The word exploded from his lips. “No, they wouldn’t–”
“They have,” his Childe insisted.
How long had it been since he had been to Nightvallen? Since any of them had been? They were supposed to have continued to feed Daemon in his endless sleep, but somehow the years had slipped by and the longer they were gone, the guiltier they all felt, the less inclined they were to return.
In Weryn’s heart, he wanted Daemon to wake up. If his king was hungry enough then he would stop this nonsense of sleeping for an eternity for some special human to be born that could survive his blood. He didn’t think it would ever happen no matter what Seeyr had said.
And how good are her powers of foretelling? She didn’t warn Ashyr of Kaly’s perfidity! She never warned any of us of what was to come!
Not to mention that her Bloodline had been decimated in the early days despite claiming neutrality or advising peace. And she was now imprisoned in her own Spire! It was pathetic indeed!
“Why have they gone there?” Weryn asked.
A shrug of massive, misshapen shoulders, but Weryn thought his Childe might know.
“You know nothing of Nightvallen. None of you,” Weryn growled. “So how–”
“There are those who know, who remember,” his Childe interrupted. “Many have gone there to seek Daemon, to try and wake him, to be… safe.”
Had Kaly gone there to be safe too? Or had Kaly gone there to disturb Daemon’s slumber, but not in a good way. Perhaps Kaly’s love for their kind had twisted into something more like hate. Maybe Kaly intended to harm Daemon.
“Kaly is in Nightvallen?” Weryn confirmed.
“Yes, they have retreated to their palace,” Legion answered.
Weryn let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Then they might as well be on the Moon or further still. We cannot break into their palace.”
“No, we can’t, but we can get inside regardless,” Legion sounded very pleased with themselves.
“Oh?”
A giggle that shouldn’t have been possible left a muzzle lined with sharp teeth. “Daemon’s tomb. There’s an entrance to Kaly Palace there. Kaly couldn’t bear to be away from their king, but that is not their territory so–”
“We can get in,” Weryn chuckled. “Maybe you are worthy of being my Childe after all, Legion.”
“I will prove it to you, Master. I am the Childe of your heart,” Legion murmured.
Weryn though was hardly listening and certainly wasn’t hearing what Legion was actually saying or the danger in it. He was too busy planning his revenge.