Chapter 18 Kerik
KERIK
The door to the ice cell opens. Kerik glimpses the hall outside.
The air hits his face, such warmth, such light. A figure stands before him.
Perl?
But, no, the figure is not Perl. It is Vane, his golden hair glittering like the sun in the ice light from the parlour. He holds a fur cloak in his arms. He steps into the chamber and lets it unfurl. It is beautiful, black and glossy.
Vane smiles, “Her Grand Majesty, Exeinil, Perfection Beyond Comprehension says you are suffering too greatly in the ice and has sent this for you.”
Kerik sighs. He can barely fathom how good it would feel to wrap that fur around his numb, frozen body.
“Would you like it?” Vane says, holding it out.
Kerik takes a moment to consider the question. Perhaps what Vane is saying is the truth. He has grown too cold. They are monitoring him somehow and want to ensure he does not die.
But he was told, clearly, that he must refuse all offers of warmth. And why make such a statement if there were not to be any such offers. Although it pains him to do it. He shakes his head and forces out a laugh. “I’m not going to accept that. I’m not even cold.”
He doesn’t need the cloak, he tells himself sternly. He can do magic. He will learn great magic in Vylenor. He will endure this and return to Azuria, a great wizard.
“You are truly so loyal to Perlash-zeren-ai?” Vane says.
“Yes,” Kerik lifts his chin. “I am his thrall.”
Vane makes a scoffing noise. “You are no thrall. You’re no mortal either.”
“I know you know that. You removed Perl’s glamour. You saw my eyes.”
Vane drops the fur cloak on the floor of the cell.
Kerik can hardly drag his eyes away from it.
“Like I needed to do that when you’re merrily wandering the halls doing magic.
You might not be fully a mortal but you are as careless as one.
Didn’t you even think for a moment you ought to hide what you are? ”
Kerik swallows. Forcing himself to meet Vane’s eyes. “You haven’t told anyone what I am. Because no one would believe you. They would just think you are jealous of Perl.”
“Do you think so? If I removed your glamour before all and showed those shards of magic in your eyes. Have you any idea how disgusting that is to the fae? We do not mix our blood with mortals. It has never ended well.”
“I know. Because it created a race of demons that drove you out of Azuria and Ismagaar and now you live in this frozen palace?” Kerik says. His mind swims from the cold and he only realises as he speaks that this is Perl’s wild tale.
Vane’s face breaks into a sneer. “Those demons only won that long war because they were aided by mortals. And once we were gone those mortals were enslaved by the demons they fought alongside. Is it any wonder we despise you on Oria? Mortals are traitors and fools.”
Kerik tosses his head. “If you hate us, why did you send the fae princes to defeat the Bellator? I am descended from those fae princes. My fae blood is the blood of the Hevelikar.” He would never normally soil his mouth by claiming an association with the Hevelikar, but he is interested to know if Vane too considers this to be the truth.
“We saved you? Is that what he told you? I’m sure Perl told you his own twisted version of the story.
But have you considered why those fae princes never returned to the fae realm after they defeated the Bellator?
Why the fae stayed on Oria and Ulla and your beloved fae princes stayed in the mortal realm to beget the Hevelikar?
We did not send them to help you. They were traitors.
That act, helping you defeat the Bellator, was treachery.
We wanted to leave you to burn.” Kerik blinks.
Perl certainly had not told him that part of the tale.
“The fae did not help us?”
“Of course we did not. You disgusting creatures betrayed us. We wanted to leave you to your fate. Only one fae thought differently. She travelled to the mortal realm to sire five fae princes with some mortal men and wrought their magical swords. A vile act and one for which we curse her and all her line. Including you. Any mortal with fae blood is a descendant of the greatest fae traitor there ever was. And you are tainted by her. If it were revealed you would be killed where you stood.”
“Then why not reveal it?”
Vane smiles. “Perhaps I am too soft-hearted.”
“Are you?” Kerik’s mind feels slow, frozen like ice, even with the little warmth he has gained from the cell door opening. But there is a bigger picture here, he is sure of it. So many schemes at work. Every faerie is enacting their own elaborate plan for their own self interest.
Every faerie? But is he any different himself?
He has his own secret plot. And what of Perl.
If Vane considers this story true, then perhaps Perl’s claim about his reasons for taking Kerik, however outlandish, are what Perl considers the truth.
And more than that. What Perl is doing would be seen as treachery if it were discovered.
Vane smirks. “So what do you think is the real reason I am keeping your secrets to myself?”
“Perhaps you are thinking you will hold your information about Perl close until Exeinil grants Perl’s boon. And then you will reveal it, hoping it will damage her enough that you can take her throne for yourself.”
But when Kerik finishes, Vane smiles. He does not look concerned that Kerik has uncovered his plotting, he simply looks amused.
“You are so mortal. What sort of place do you think this is? Do you really think I have any interest in ruling Vylenor? It’s a slum compared to the Timeless Court.
All I want, dear mortal fool, is some way to pass the endless days I am confined to this revolting place.
Undermining Perl’s pathetic schemes will work for now.
So, let me see what games can be played with you.
” He waves a hand and the cloak rises so he can take it back into his arms. “I will see you in time, thrall.”
Kerik watches him going. Perhaps his claims are simply the truth.
He is bored and finds Perl amusing to toy with.
But, of course, he does not know what Perl is really doing.
Why Perl has brought him here. What would Vane think if he did?
Would he keep that secret to himself too?
Kerik doubts it. The cell darkens as the door slides back into place. The warmth from the parlour seeps away.
Kerik begins to shiver. He can’t seem to stop himself. He wills himself harder to think of warm things.
His bed chamber in the Rose Palace, in the Tower of the Heir.
Damon and Lukas had once shared that room, he knew, but both were gone by the time Kerik was moved into it from his mother’s bed.
So he slept in that room alone. And he grew into a man.
A sly man who seduced other men with easy charm and brought them back to his chamber to share his bed for pleasure.
His fire banked high, sweat-slick against warm skin.
He lets the warmth of these thoughts soothe him.
A beautiful man kneeling before him, a hot mouth closing around his cock.
The heat of pressing himself into another man’s body.
Baking hot nights in Attar finding pleasure in the scrubby bushes on the north bank of the Gleam.
And how long has it been since he has taken bed pleasures from another?
Too long. Longer than he has ever gone without such things since he became a man grown.
Five long years in Perl’s prison. And then the days he has been here.
It is strange, but when he thinks of that he finds he is unsure how long that has been.
It is unnerving to not be sure of such a thing.
He feels as if he could have been here for a year, days slipping queasily into each other.
But Perl had warned him time moved strangely in this faerie palace.
And that is certainly the case, with no sun or moon, seasons or tides or stars to mark it.
What an uncanny place this is with every day the same. It is little wonder that the fae grow so bored and cruel.
So cruel that they enjoy witnessing torment like this. Kerik freezing to death in this endless, savage cold.
Cold that is impossible to tell from pain. Kerik screams out in agony. He pulls at the chains, but that just causes him more pain as the ice around his wrists bites into him.
It may as well be fire.
Kerik tries again to think of something warm. But he cannot, he cannot think. His mind seems to seize. He is so cold.
He cannot feel his body. He feels quite sure this ice cell will ruin him.
Even if it does not kill him completely, his body will be destroyed from this. He knows what cold can do to a man. Kill his body piece by piece.
What will be left of him?
He feels panic rising. He needs to think of something else. Anything else.
His bed. His bed in the Rose Palace. Vindar had caught him in that bed. In that bed with his Fanosti bodyman.
Kerik found out later that it had been Vindar who had found the man for his mother. She had thought a Fanosti would be loyal to her. But, in truth, she likely would have found more loyalty in a palace guard chosen at random than in any man who had come with Chancellor Vindar’s recommendation.
Lady Ilyne was mounting a challenge to the Rose Court’s decision to deny Kerik the title of Duke of Fanost. A challenge that would never succeed if Vindar’s man stood as a witness and declared Kerik sly.