CHAPTER XIII #9
“And what was that plan?” I ask, learning forward in my chair in curiosity. “If you were able to take Storm and I? What were you planning to do?”
Can anyone provide that answer? Livyatan wanted to take me, for what? Woodlands wanted to take me, to do what?
Heysan reaches in front of me and drops a long-stemmed glass of sparkling toddy on the table, shrugging his own shoulder when I look at him, his grin viewed by Esme.
I nearly laugh at the Ancient and reach for the drink, holding Esme’s gaze as I lift the glass up to my lips and watch both brothers move closer to her in silence.
“You’ve made friends,” the Discerni’s eyes sparkle on mine.
“Powerful friends,” I nod in agreement. “Friends whose power pulls directly from the Old World, far outmatching your own.”
“You know nothing of the Old World, girl,” Esme’s voice turns cold.
“No? Then enlighten me. Tell me how your own summoning works and how magic thought to be dead still remains alive today.”
Esme’s shoulders press proud against the back of her chair, though her eyes continue to watch me, her own curiosity sparking.
“You seem to have an abundance of your own knowledge for a human...”
“I read a lot.”
“Stories, then,” she grimaces, “you read stories of power that doesn’t belong to you.”
Desmond now stands directly behind the woman, a quiet force that’s almost been forgotten in the room. Keane reaches a hand out for his own chair, also remaining silent as he takes a seat at Esme’s right.
“I do read a lot of stories. Far more than I care to admit. Though you’re wrong when you say the power doesn’t belong to me…”
I lean forward with a wide smile, holding her gaze steady as my voice drops low.
“Another thing this human girl will take from the Discerni in these lands.”
It’s a lie, obviously, all of this has been a big front, but I can see that my words have the intended reaction we were hoping for.
“You won’t get far, Lady Alexis,” she glares at me. “There’s too many people in these lands and others that want you.”
I chuckle to the woman. “We’re back to that? Then I ask you, again, what are these people expecting to do once they have me? I have an Ancient on my side,” I turn to Heysan with a smile, “three, if you want to count his brother and his right hand.”
The Discerni woman’s eyes go round, the realization of my words hitting her at the same time Desmond quietly lifts his blade underneath her ear. She flinches violently, a much different reaction than the Woodlands girl before her.
“We know of your little group,” I lie again. “We have two names so far but we’re looking for the others. Give the men what they want and I’ve asked that your life be spared.”
Esme’s eyes flick to the King in a hurry, then on the blade under her ear before she looks back at me. Heysan takes a step closer at my back, remaining just above eyesight so as to catch any of her thoughts.
A sleeper, his voice fills my mind. One is called The Sleeper.
“We know of The Sleeper,” I raise my brows.
Esme’s eyes go wider still, looking again around the room in frantic help. Her gaze darts to the windows behind us, a perfect gesture, and one that makes me hold back a small smile.
“You will no longer have an ear in the next moment unless you start talking, Esme,” Desmond’s cold voice whispers behind her.
Esme moves away from the blade, her voice laced in anger.
“Even if I were to be given my life, I would be hunted by the others! I am a dead woman.”
“We can make arrangements,” Keane leans forward, “we can see you properly set up and discarded in Livyatan.”
“No. They will find me.”
Callous. She’s thinking of a man named Callous.
“Who will? The Sleeper?” I inquire softly, “or Callous?”
Esme’s gaze turns to me sharply before she looks at Heysan.
She’s caught on, I tell him.
Doesn’t matter, I can feel Heysan’s grin in my mind, she doesn’t have a door.
“The others in your group, Lady Esme,” Keane commands quietly, drawing her attention off the two of us. She eyes the King for a moment before that sneer of a smile comes back to her lips.
“Did you like the flowers I added to the village?” she turns to me slowly in question. “The little pots of color in front of the dingey, worthless homes. Fake, like the rest of it, but I thought they were a nice touch.”
Desmond’s hand reaches out for her ear, grabbing the lobe as his other flicks roughly against her skin.
Esme screams in pain, closing her eyes as blood begins to seep down her neck.
The Master Informer leans forward and drops her ear into her lap, the red from his hands and the severed limb dripping all over her tattered dress.
“I’ll take that as a no,” she laughs maliciously before turning her blood-soaked head to the Master Informer. “It hurts, Prince Desmond, but it is nothing next to the pain I will endure if I continue talking.”
“Not sure you’ll have anything left on you for the others to take,” Desmond replies easily, reaching his blade for her wrist.
“A story then!” she yells frantically, “since the young Queen to Be is so fond of them…”
“I’m entranced,” I smile in hatred. “Let’s hear it, then.”
Her own smile is evil as she shakes her head, turning to Keane.
“Oh, but this one is for the King, for it has to do with his family.”
Keane’s face remains calm, reverting into his sharp features of Discerni indifference, but I can still see the fire behind his eyes, can see him look at her in curiosity as to what she has to say.
“Your mother was one of ours,” Esme grins to the King.
“One of the most beautiful Ladies to ever grace Woodlands Court. She caught your father’s eye in an instant, our gem of La Cour.
They took a while with their courting, as your father had his own reservations as to her intentions.
He had to make sure she wasn’t like the rest of us, that her upbringing in this court did not weigh heavy on the person that she was… ”
“Would you believe me if I told you that she was groomed for it?” Lady Esme chuckles, her own eyes lit to a small fire.
“That your mother’s beauty was recognized at a young age, bringing her to the forefront of contenders for your father’s hand?
We placed her in his arms. We ensured that Woodlands had a voice in the next generation of Bardots... ”
My brows furrow, thinking of the Queen’s white rose gardens in front of the castle, the same flowers that seem to be everywhere in this court…
“It was and has always been her voice in Zander’s ear that let us continue on as we have. It’s our way, she would remind him. Woodlands has always been like this. Why change something that isn’t broken?”
Esme laughs again, smiling through the pain. “We owe her so much. He owes her so much. And that debt was made tenfold when one of her sons found his way to our court, appreciating the true nature of Woodlands.”
Keane leans back against his chair in silence, giving no emotion away.
“Your problems run farther than me, Your Grace. They run to the very core of your family, to a mother who still holds small sentiment for our court, even if it’s been lost over time.
It runs to a Prince who would see Woodlands throughout, if given the choice.
Do you think he’s never considered the option?
That your own handsome head can’t be replaced by another?
I would start by looking inward if I were you.
Give up on our group, they will not be found.
But you can resolve the problem within your own family… ”
My hand clenches around my glass, hating this woman’s words.
“No one outside of Woodlands would blame you,” Esme tells him softly. “You would stand in your own right as someone who removed any dissent from your rule. I suspect Warrior will rally to the cause.”
She is evil.
“The others in your group, Lady Esme,” Keane’s voice is the coldest I’ve ever heard, “or I will rescind my decision on your life.”
“My life was gone the moment I failed to flee Etter,” she sighs.
“Not yet,” Keane stands from his chair, “but it is fading. We’ll give you the night to think on it.”
The three men make their way for the door as I remain glaring down at the Discerni woman. I bring my hand to the side of her chair, making sure her spiteful eyes hold mine.
“I killed your birds,” I tell her with a faux smile. “Slaughtered every single one in your glass cage. You act as if you were just using them, but I can tell that you were fond. Regardless, you have no more allies here, Esme. No help. Think on that tonight…”
Desmond opens the door behind us just as I give the woman a small nod.
She stares at me in anger until I walk out of her view, stopping before the door as the rest of the men stand there as well.
The Master Informer’s summoning washes over us all in a blink, surrounding our beings as Golem’s hands flick up at the same time, hiding our sounds.
The dark Discerni closes the door, all of us still remaining in the room.
Now, Storm.
We stand in silence and wait, our eyes trained on the glass windows at the other end of the room. It takes a few moments but we finally see a single white argent dart across the glass, its beak clashing against the clear fixture as Esme’s head darts up in surprise.
“Warn him,” she whispers hurriedly to the bird as it flies along the window. “They’ll make the connection soon. Tell Gauthier that the King is inquiring and that he’ll need to misdirect. Send someone to Etter. I don’t have much time left here.”
That bird does not leave Etter, Stormfall, I tell the Bird of Ash.
I know, Queen.
Desmond opens the door once more just as the argent flies away. The mood is tense as we step into the hall, with Keane looking at Desmond in pure anger.
“I take it you know this Gauthier fellow?” Heysan tilts his head at the two brothers.
Gauthier…
Why does the name sound so familiar?
Keane’s look is severe as he turns to Golem, his voice deathly quiet. “Our mother’s father. Our grandfather.”