Chapter 8 Secrets in the Dark
~ MELEK ~
The cave where we met Jann and Diadre was a twenty-minute flight from Valgorath City.
We’d flown out in darkness so Yilan could shroud us, but I wouldn’t ask her to sustain that kind of power for the entire flight.
I’d dressed in the robes of a trader, and she as my slave, in case we were seen by others who roamed the night.
As long as it was only from a distance, our dress gave no reason for comment or attention.
Just a merchant, flying off with his slave into the night, to do nefarious things.
Light rain began to fall as we flew. Yilan, strapped to my chest, pulled her hood higher as the drops pattered on the thick cloak I wore.
The temperature dropped noticeably, even in those minutes, and I cursed our luck.
In Ebonreach, most of our rain came from snow, blown north from the frigid climate of the Raven Peaks, and melting as it dropped.
By the time we’d fly back to the city later tonight, it would be even colder.
I held Yilan tightly until we swept into the forest and landed near the cave mouth, then unstrapped her. A soft glow emanated from the depths of the cave. The trees above hid it from flyer eyes, and obscured our footsteps under the quiet patter of the rain.
“How do you know this place?” Yilan asked me quietly, as we hurried for the cave.
I couldn’t help but grin. “Jann and I have been coming here since we were bucks. It was a place to be out from under the eyes of our superiors when we were young, and became a place of solitude and quiet when our responsibilities grew. It’s also strategic—there’s an entire network of caves down here that you wouldn’t detect, unless you’d been among them. ”
She looked up at me as we trotted into the dark mouth of the cave, and could finally throw our hoods back. “This is where you’re hiding the men?”
“Not here. It’s far too close to the city. But we could reach them from here if we needed to.”
Yilan glanced deeper into the cave, her brow lined with worry, then back up at me.
“What?” I asked her quietly.
‘Jann knows where the men are? He knows these caves?’
‘Yes, of course. Why?’
Yilan bit her lip. ‘I only… Diadre mentioned—'
A deep, resounding boom echoed through the cave, and the light at its depths surged and flickered. No doubt someone had thrown a log on the fire to combat the growing cold.
I reached for her in my mind again, but now inside, we could hear voices.
‘Yilan—’
‘Let’s talk about it later,’ she sent.
Moments later, we rounded the curve to a spot where the cave widened into a large, roughly circular room.
The ceiling was still low, which helped with keeping heat in.
A large fire had been laid at the back, near where the cave floor rose as it climbed into the hills above.
It dropped again later, but the air-flow in that section would always draw smoke away, and keep the bulk of the fire’s light hidden from outside eyes.
Jann crouched next to the flames, stabbing at a thick branch he’d thrown into the fire. Embers still rose to ride the smoke, as he shifted it to the hottest coals to ensure it caught.
Diadre sat crossed-legged and frowning in one of the thick chairs we’d brought out here years earlier—the one scratched by bear claws during a winter when we hadn’t visited and kept it stinking of Neph, so the forest wildlife had moved in.
“Let me know if he’s behaving, Diadre. I could shove his hulking ass face-first into the flames from this angle,” Yilan suggested slyly.
Diadre snorted, but her smile faded quickly and her eyes cut to Jann, who huffed and shifted the log one more time before turning to tip his chin at me and ignore Yilan—who was mostly ignoring him too.
I rolled my eyes. “If you two can’t be grown-ups—”
“Oh, I’m very grown,” Jann growled, pushing to his feet and walking towards me to clasp arms. He opened his mouth to say more—something I was sure Yilan wouldn’t like—but I cut him off.
“Good, then let’s get this done. We’ll need each other to get through this. I need your advice.”
Jann’s gaze went flat when he glanced over his shoulder towards the girls, but he didn’t speak.
Yilan caught my eye as she settled on the arm of the chair where Diadre sat, and I thrust a warning at her through the bond to keep her mouth as firmly shut as Jann’s.
She rolled her eyes, but turned to ask Diadre if she wanted wine from one of the skins on the shelf behind them.
I quickly moved on, praying they’d both be distracted by the problem at hand, and forget their animosity.
I would have to speak with Jann. He’d started this with his refusal to believe Yilan could be trusted, after she drugged me to get me away from the scene of the murder of our former king, and Gall’s birth-father, Gault.
Now she’d turned suspicious eyes on him, for how he treated Diadre since the pair had arrived here.
I knew she was wrong about that. Jann was frantic to keep Diadre safe and managed it exactly as I would have if I’d had to walk in plain sight.
Treating Diadre like a valuable chattel.
A claimed woman. In the Nephilim’s eyes, she belonged to him as surely as any slave.
Yet, her position held a great deal more protection.
I prayed that kind of pageantry wouldn’t ever again be necessary for Yilan and me.
But I couldn’t fault Jann—or Diadre—for the charade.
I wished Yilan would stop eyeing them askance.
I was fairly certain if Yilan warmed, Jann would let go of his anger about the drugging, but all of us were tense, and Jann in particular walked a precarious line, letting himself be seen to be aligned with the Fallen, and backing Gall, while secretly working with us to undermine all of them.
Of all of us, Jann carried the highest risk.
If he slipped, and Lucifer discovered his subterfuge, it wouldn’t just be deadly, but sickeningly painful in the process.
Pushing away the unwelcome thoughts, I cleared my throat and filled Jann and Diadre in on what happened with Gall and Istral the night before.
“…so, it’s clear, the only way to circumvent disaster is for us to somehow break Lucifer’s influence on Gall.
As long as my son believes his own power is found in his grandfather, he won’t retreat—and it appears Istral is as firmly committed to her bond as any of us.
So, I need your suggestions—anything. I’ve wracked my brain, but I can’t think of anything I’ve ever heard, not even a hint, of a power that could break the Fallen’s grip on a willing subject. ”
“Resist,” Yilan murmured darkly, carrying goblets of wine for herself and Diadre towards the chair.
“To resist requires Gall’s intention. He can choose to defy Lucifer—or any of the Fallen. But right now, it appears that he won’t.”
“He wouldn’t listen to you at all?” Diadre asked nervously, frowning at the drink Yilan offered. She dropped her nose to the edge of the cup and sniffed, frowning, then set the goblet aside without drinking from it, while Yilan resettled on the arm of her chair.
“He grew angry when I even suggested that he might be deceived or influenced by Lucifer,” I growled.
“Knowing him, and knowing how sensitive he is to violence, I’m guessing he’s somehow twisted all these events into some kind of protection of himself or Istral in his mind.
He’s only ever violent when he believes he’s helping, or doing good—at least, that’s how he used to think. ”
“Perhaps his mind has been changed for him,” Jann said flatly, frowning into the flames.
“Perhaps,” I conceded. “Whether he’s driven by fear, or a misguided sense of purpose, the fact remains that I couldn’t budge him.
So, now we need a new plan. A way to separate him from the Fallen, or remove that influence long enough to get him to see sense.
Without getting anyone else killed, of course,” I said, flapping a frustrated hand.
“Kill him. Challenge him. You’d win,” Jann muttered.
I glared at him. Surely he knew that wasn’t an option? But to my surprise, Jann met my eyes and didn’t flinch.
“I’m not killing my son,” I snapped.
“You’re a king, Melek. You always taught your men that violence is sometimes required. Death to avoid further death.”
“That’s in war,” I growled.
“You think this isn’t war?” Jann asked quietly.
I glared at him. “I’m not killing my son. Don’t suggest it again. Ever.”
“I’m not suggesting that it’s a good thing to kill Gall, I’m suggesting that you calculate the blood equation—would removing him cost your people less in the long run? Because surely—”
“What the fuck has gotten into you?!” I hissed, snapping one hand out to grab Jann by his leathers and pull him to me, snarling in his face. “This is Gall. My son of the heart. Your nephew. I’ve seen you face down a fist of Neph to protect him—”
“That was before he was wielding mortal darkness like a child with a fairy wand!” Jann snapped back. “He’s killing people, Melek. On a whim.”
“He’s killing Neph that the world is probably better off without!” I snarled, fisting his leathers and shaking him. He gripped my arm, but I didn’t release him.
I trembled with rage that Jann of all people would even consider—
“For now,” Jann spat back. “What happens next time he catches sight of you? Or your mate? What about me, Melek? You think you can do any of this if I’m not at the center of it? What if he decides my mate isn’t docile enough to be a true slave, and crooks that finger at her?! You think I’d let him—”
“Gall would never kill a harmless woman.”
“Wake up, Melek! That creature isn’t the boy you raised!”
“Then you aren’t the friend who’s had my back for two decades, if you think that’s how I’d solve this problem!” I roared.
‘Melek… calm down.’