Chapter 24 Kerik
KERIK
Over the next days, Perl seems to grow distant, brittle in a very familiar way. He is acting as the stiff, overly controlled creature he was when they first met.
When Kerik tries to touch Perl, or kiss him, Perl pulls back, muttering that they need to be careful, that they only have one more test. Kerik is not sure why that means they must be so restrained, even in the safety of Perl’s warded chambers.
He supposes it must be Perl’s nerves, worry overwhelming him as the end of their time in Vylenor grows nearer.
He had mentioned something about betraying the Queen he clearly respects and feels he owes his life to. Perhaps that is all it is. Perl is still a creature so heavily cloaked in guilt and shame.
Or perhaps it is because he has told Kerik so many of his secrets and regrets it.
Or he is simply brooding about the way they had coupled.
The way he had given himself to Kerik. But it is clear he still aches for such acts.
Kerik will simply have to wait. He is sure he will have more chances to take Perl’s body when they leave Vylenor.
Leaving Vylenor means completing the final test perfectly.
As they wait for Exeinil to declare this test, which Kerik learns will be conducted with great ceremony in the Ice Hall for a large audience of faeries, he starts to grow apprehensive too. Every test so far has held some hidden trick or cruelty.
But he must complete it. His future plans depend on it.
Kerik resolves to do just that. The exact nature of the test has not been revealed to them. Kerik just hopes it does not involve anything like being chained inside a giant block of ice.
When the order finally comes, Kerik dresses in his hip cloth and collar and follows Perl, leashed as usual, to the Ice Hall.
The hall is thronged with faeries, giggling and chattering in their lewd outfits and glittering wings.
There is a platform in place in the hall’s centre, but there is nothing on it that hints at what this test will be.
Perl bows before Exeinil and Kerik sinks elegantly to the floor, prostrating himself, forehead to the cold marble.
He hears Exeinil make a soft sound of delight.
He hopes it is down to his obedience. Perhaps she is remembering his performance at the previous test, sucking Perl on his knees. Kerik has no doubt she enjoyed that.
“The final test will be The Positions,” Exeinil announces. “Perlash-zeren-ai, you will take your thrall and have it strip and stand.”
“Yes, Grand Majesty,” Perl says. “Thrall, stand and remove your garments.”
So he is to do these positions naked. Kerik supposes it could be worse.
There seem to be no humiliating additions to his body.
He does as he is bid, removing the hip cloth and handing it to Perl, who takes it and makes it vanish into the air.
Kerik hopes it is not gone for good. He has become quite fond of it and he has already considered how much he would enjoy seeing Perl wearing it after he has used magic to make it far smaller.
Perl leads Kerik by the leash up onto the platform and says in a soft, low tone.
“Stand straight with your arms outstretched.” It’s a simple blunt statement, but as Kerik gets into position, Perl leans in and kisses him on the lips.
A single soft sweet kiss, but it sends heat straight to Kerik’s cock.
He looks at Perl. Was that a kiss that meant something, or simply for show?
Kerik knows better than to ask when he is displayed before all the faeries as a thrall.
As Perl steps down from the platform, Kerik feels a sudden strange sensation in the fingers of his outstretched hands. A rush of air and warmth, accompanied by a light tinkling sound.
He looks and realises each of his fingers is decorated by a tiny silver bell, hanging from each middle joint. He moves his fingers in surprise and the bells tinkle again.
Exeinil laughs lightly as do many of the other faeries, amused by Kerik’s surprise.
“Do not allow those bells to ring, thrall,” says Exeinil. “Or the test is failed.” She turns to Perl. He is offering his wrist to her. The Queen waves a hand over it, conjuring the suppressor cuff.
And the first part of the test begins, such a simple thing. It quickly becomes difficult as Kerik’s arms start to ache, the muscles desperate for relief. The bells on his fingers seem to grow heavier, but he cannot tell if that is magic or simply his imagination.
This is a test of strength. No different to martial training where he would have to stand with his arms stretched in front of him and a sword balanced on his palms. He knows how to do this. It is a matter of ignoring the body’s demands and overcoming them with his will.
He focuses on his breathing, and simply gazes at Perl, willing himself to endure this. If he can do this simple act, just remain in this position, they will have Iceheart. Iceheart and all the power it brings.
But with his eyes closed he sees something.
Not the Ice Hall where he stands or the training yard he imagines.
But something else. Somewhere else. A strange vision dances before his eyes.
Shapes and colours and sounds. Even smells.
But blurred and confused. He does not know what he is seeing, hearing and smelling.
He opens his eyes. The vision is gone. The Ice Hall is still there. Perl is still there. He closes his eyes again, and when he does, the vision returns. Clearer.
It is now a vision so strong it makes him gasp.
This is magic, he knows. His own magic, growing yet stronger.
The vision is as real as the hall he stands in.
He sees a dark landscape, a red sun, air full of dust and smoke.
The smells are perhaps strongest of all.
His belly roils at the stench of blood, shit and fear.
The screams of terrified men, fire and devastation all around.
Like the aftermath of a terrible battle.
He sees Attar. This is Attar. Attar fallen. In ruins. The Rose Palace, glittering pink rubble on the ground. The very earth on fire.
And then he sees the demons. He knows exactly what they are. Great creatures, with bodies like men, although taller than any men Kerik has ever seen. And with strange faces, tusks and horns, eyes glowing as red as the boiling sun in the dark, dusty sky.
This is what is coming. This is what Perl fears. This is the return of the Bellator. Not only Ur-Durik, the Demon King, but thousands of Bellator demons taking the world back. Ruling as they had once done with mortal men as nothing but slaves.
Kerik gasps.
He blinks his eyes open. He sees the hall, just as it was. But when he closes them again, the vision returns. Who has sent this to him?
Kerik Darekul, you have a path.
He doesn’t know where the words are coming from. Are they inside his head? Just his imagination? He opens his eyes and sees the hall again.
Perl?
Is Perl somehow communicating? But when he looks at Perl, watching him from the dais, suppressor cuff on his wrist he knows it is not Perl’s voice in his head.
He thinks again of how brittle Perl had been.
It had started after Kerik had fucked him.
But not right after. During that conversation about Perl’s demon.
That conversation when Perl had told Kerik how he had taken him to protect him from a witch who had gone mad from amassing too much power.
Perl still feels so much guilt about that.
Perl had given that witch some of his power to awaken her abilities. She had fae blood too.
And he had told Perl about his plans to become Duke of Fanost using his own magic. To become a great Wizard King. Kerik feels his belly freeze over with a feeling far more unpleasant than the strain in his outstretched arms. Did Perl think that Kerik too was losing his mind to magical madness.
No. He pushes the thoughts away. It cannot be that. That witch was wrong. She believed herself the fated Magician. She had even made a deal with Vindar to take Kerik in order to replace him. No doubt she planned to kill him. But Kerik truly was the Magician. So surely this is different.
He is not her. Perl cannot think magic will drive Kerik mad with power the way it did his witch.
Kerik looks up at the cage, far above him. Perl’s father had gone mad too. When he had appeared in Perl’s bed chamber, ripping through the wards with a blood door, his mind had been all but destroyed by magic.
Batraous was not wrong. But he still lost his sanity to magic.
Kerik doesn’t know how long he holds the position while lost in the vision. Time in the Fae Realm has no meaning. How long has he been standing here? How long since he left Ismagaar? It is impossible to fathom.
So he focuses on his breathing again and he does not move. The bells do not ring. It is simple.
Until Exeinil claps her hands. Until the bells on Kerik’s fingers vanish. Until the Queen announces, "Position one, complete.”
Kerik drops his arms with a great gasping sigh of relief.
He wants to go to Perl. To feel Perl’s skin against his, perhaps to persuade Perl to kiss him again.
Even, to find a moment to speak with Perl and tell him what he has seen.
Ask him if he is scared Kerik will be destroyed by the magic Perl has given him.
But there is no chance for that. Perl simply stands up and says, “Hands behind your head.”
The second position, it seems, is going to begin immediately.
Kerik obeys, clasping his hands together behind his head, fingers laced. His arms still ache, but holding them like this is easier to maintain. There will be more to this position, he is certain.