43. Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Three
Ty
Ty knew that Ena missed Ladon fiercely and was eager to have him back in her arms now that things had calmed down.
So, after retrieving him from the waterfall cave, Ty helped the two of them settle into his chambers.
Once he was assured of their safety, he went to check in with various daemons, explaining the details of what had happened to those who hadn’t heard, and inviting those who had been nominated from each level to attend a Convening to be held later that evening.
Apparently, Lara had been recruiting daemons to their side in his absence, so many were unfazed by Cole’s sudden death, and were primed and eager to participate in the meeting, which was a pleasant surprise.
Of course, doing so had come at a cost for her, and him—his face was still bruised and his body sore from the beating she had delivered.
That, of course, was all in the past now, and last he’d seen her and Steig, they were tearfully reuniting with their children.
He invited the witches and stryx, who had set up camp aboveground, to the Convening too, and so the next day, they all arrived in the Great Antre to discuss the future of the Underworld, and its relations with the other races.
The hum of voices as they all filtered in was new to him—he was so used to silence, or to just Cole’s aggravated voice ringing throughout the cavern, that to hear so many people talking at once, without censor, brought him a profound sense of joy.
As he approached the table, he noticed that the head of it remained unoccupied, and he left it that way, choosing to take the seat directly to the right of the throne. Everyone else strategically avoided it, too, taking his lead and filling in around the table as he did.
Ena sat to his right, and next to her was Turner, Steig, and Lara, followed by Nial, who’d been removed from his collar and chosen to record the proceedings, and the elected daemons from the upper levels and mid-levels.
No imperi were in attendance, since those still in collars were not under their own free will, but Ty intended to rectify that swiftly.
Across the table from him were the stryx, represented by Max and Xena—his mother, given her history here, had chosen not to attend—and the witches had sent Greya, Syrelle, and Cris to represent each Coven.
Ty could sense apprehension and suspicion around the table, which was understandable, but when he cleared his throat to begin talking, everyone gave him their attention.
“Thank you all for joining us on this historic day,” he began, wondering how his father would have handled this.
He felt a bit silly addressing everyone so formally.
“This side of the Chasm Mountains has not seen a Convening of all three races of magic in centuries, and I look forward to new relations between our peoples.” He looked around to see nods of agreement mixed with looks of skepticism, but he continued nonetheless.
“Now, first, effective immediately, I would like to propose that all daemons who are subject to it be released from imperae collars. I think this will be most conducive to a fresh slate for the Underworld as we figure out our future as a people.”
“I’m not sure you have the authority to do that,” Zak chimed in—not antagonistically, but merely stating a fact. “Only the king can do it, and as you so publicly insisted, right now, we have none.”
Ty was surprised the upper-level daemons had chosen Zak to attend as their representative, given his very recent public shaming, but he guessed old ways died hard.
The man clearly still had the respect and trust of the old guard who had followed Cole, and that included most of the privileged upper-level daemons.
“True,” Ty granted. “So that brings us to our second order of business, I suppose. Who is to be king?”
“Shouldn’t it be you?” Myka, the kindhearted manager of the stables who was here representing the mid-levels, asked. “You’re the heir, Haden’s firstborn son.”
Ty looked around as they all stared at him, feeling his chest tighten at the implication, as it did anytime anyone mentioned him being king.
“I can see why you would think that, however…my circumstances have changed. While I was away, I handfasted with a witch, and she gave birth to my son. Not only is he part daemon, and part witch, but he is also part stryx.”
Eyes all turned towards the stryx with curiosity. For so many of those in attendance, this was their first time ever even hearing about a third race of magic, so they were understandably cautious of these new people.
“How is that possible?” Syrelle asked, confusion on her face as she glanced between Ena and Ty.
“Well,” Ena responded, clearing her throat awkwardly. “It’s a long story, but it seems as if my grandmother, an Aquilo witch, had relations with a stryx, thus giving me a dormant stryx heritage. And now, my son has it as well.”
“Exactly,” Ty said, attempting to end any and all further discussion of Ladon.
He did not want his son brought into this mess.
“And so, as you can imagine, my loyalties, while always with daemons, and what is in their best interest, are also to my family. For me to be king, Ena would have to be accepted as my queen, and Ladon as my heir.”
The daemons around the table all went silent—as he’d expected.
He knew it would be hard for them to accept a witch in the Underworld in such a position of power.
It was part of why, despite everything that Ena had said to him earlier about needing to embrace the chaos and unknown of their lives, he still wasn’t sure if he could put them in that position.
Not only one of danger, but one of scrutiny and judgment.
“Technically, accepting your son as the heir shouldn’t be a problem, provided he is raised in the Underworld, since he does have daemonic heritage,” Nial chimed in, his depth of history and knowledge about the Underworld extremely valuable in this setting.
“But no offense meant, I don’t believe Ena could be queen.
She has no daemonic heritage at all, and that would be highly unprecedented.
Daemons prefer their own, as I’m sure you can understand, given the history between our two races,” he said to the witches by way of explanation.
“Of course,” Ena acknowledged politely, seeming unfazed by this development, as if she’d expected it.
“So what other options are there?” Greya asked pointedly.
Ty’s eyes darted over to Turner, who was purposefully staring at his hands and looking extremely uncomfortable.
They hadn’t had time to discuss this more yet, but Ty knew he was opposed to the idea of being king, and he didn’t blame him.
The man did not gravitate towards leadership, but Ty hoped he would learn.
“I am next in line for the throne if Ty abdicates, and my son after me,” Zak chimed in.
“Occidens will only support a witch-friendly king,” Syrelle added with fervor.
“This was part of why we agreed to participate in these negotiations. We were led to believe it would be Ty, and given his ties to witches, we were comfortable with that. We would not feel the same about a king that allowed the previous one to run rampant over the realm, disrupting the balance just for vengeance’s sake. ”
Zak stared daggers at Syrelle, who returned the look in kind.
“But you cannot say the same thing about his son,” Ty offered, attempting to lower the temperature in the room. “Turner was instrumental in the breaking of the bond to Iblis. He has befriended Ena, as well as witches in the other two Covens. I guarantee he would make a witch-friendly king.”
“Turner cannot be king,” Xena stated dismissively.
All heads whipped towards her—the first of the stryx to speak.
She sat there stoically under scrutiny, as only Xena could do, acting as if the suspicion and attention from so many potential adversaries did not bother her in the slightest. He’d never admit it, but he respected the hell out of his sister for it, even though he had no idea what the fuck she was doing.
“Why not?” Ty asked, confrontationally.
“Because I have claimed him,” she said matter-of-factly.
Ty looked over at Turner, who refused to make eye contact and was instead staring intently at a spot on the wall.
“Turner?” Ty asked, anger lacing his voice. “What is she talking about?”
“Huh?” Turner said, feigning ignorance. “Oh, yeah…I’ve been, uh…meaning to tell you that. But everything was so…you know,” he said, gesturing around at the chaos of the Underworld and everyone at the table.
“Does someone care to explain what’s going on? What does that mean, you’ve ‘claimed him’?” Zak asked, seeming equally as upset by this turn of events.
Xena sat in silence, refusing to explain, but Max—ever the peacekeeper—cleared his throat to speak.
“I know you all are not familiar with the ways of our people,” he explained, “but stryx, given how few of us there are, take mating very seriously. We mate for life, and generally only with one person. If Turner has been claimed, it means he has been chosen as Xena’s mate, and the two of them are bound together for life.
Where Xena goes, so does Turner, and vice versa. ”
What the fuck? Ty looked over at Turner in shock. He had no idea the two of them had even been together, let alone…claimed one another.
The awkward silence around the table was palpable as Ty stared daggers at his cousin. He wouldn’t lie—this turn of events absolutely blew up his plans, and he was pissed as fuck that Turner hadn’t warned him—that wasn’t like him.
“That leaves us with the same problem, then,” Nial said, breaking the tension. “A stryx could not be queen, and if Turner is leaving constantly to travel with Xena, as I understand the stryx like to do, then he would also not be a suitable king.”
“What about Lara?” Greya asked innocently. “She is the previous king’s daughter, correct?”
“Women cannot be queen alone,” Zak said, as if this was obvious and Greya was stupid for asking.