10. LET THERE BE BLOOD
Ramil stared us down, the dark swath of fabric around his face and head concealing what I knew was a menacing smirk. As if he were entering a prayer chamber, he kept his hands clasped across his abdomen, appearing to have already considered himself triumphant.
Remic pulled me back toward the altar at the center of the room, and Niall was instantly at my side, growling low at our enemy. Morah, still in shock, remained standing in front of the crypts.
I felt my power shift under my skin, like a cat’s fur stands on end when it’s threatened.
I threw my shield up and turned to see Roirdan placing Fallon against the stone altar behind us.
He cast his shield out over Maeson, who still hovered over Fallon’s unconscious body, diligently placing herbs under his tongue while whispering what sounded like an incantation.
She quickly tied a cloth around his nose and mouth to stop the further inhalation of the poison-laced air.
Ramil assessed Niall first, not seeming to care that Fallon was no longer on his deathbed. “I wondered how long it would take someone to come for you. I have to admit, the arrival was earlier than I anticipated.”
He took his time surveying each of us. When his eyes landed on his daughter, she began backing toward us until she was in Roirdan’s protective grasp.
Then, Ramil narrowed his stare on me. “What really surprises me is who came on this little rescue mission, and how you got into my territory in the first place. Just how is it that a half-breed bitch managed to sway the infamous Trium to her side?”
Niall’s shadows pulsed out around his shoulders.
Ramil’s eyes squinted as if he were once again smiling beneath the wrappings that covered his face.
“Good to see you’re functioning on some fronts, High Lord.
But not all, I would bet.” When none of us offered a response, he took a step forward, perusing our group again, noting exactly who was absent. “Your spy is missing.”
Morah shifted uneasily at Roirdan’s side.
“Shame, it would have pleased me to see him in chains for his treason.”
“Aremis had nothing to do with this!” Morah hissed.
“Didn’t he? Who told you where your brother was? Hmm? Who kept a watchful eye on him all those years? Oh yes, I knew exactly what he was doing when he came down to these catacombs on ‘patrol.’ He only got away with it because he never tried anything as foolish as you have.”
Remic’s hands flexed near the daggers at his thighs.
“Why?” Morah demanded. “Why did you do it?”
“Why else?” Ramil shrugged. “For power. If you’d only been patient, you would’ve seen it all come to fruition and shared in the wealth of—"
“Wealth?” Morah snapped. “What about life? What about them?” She jabbed her finger toward the alcove.
Ramil didn’t even deign to look over at the crypts that held the remains of dozens of innocents. “The younglings?” He scoffed. “Such a shame about them too. All males. All born with nothing of real significance.”
Morah grimaced. “They were your experiments?”
“Yes. Until your brother came along. And then, the gods blessed me with you, daughter.”
Morah balked in disbelief. “They . . . they were . . . yours?”
“Of course they were.” He said it with such a lack of empathy that I choked on my disgust.
The younglings had been Morah and Fallon’s siblings.
Ramil really didn’t have a conscience.
“How could you?” Morah hissed.
There was no reply, he only waited for her to press on.
She shook her head. “Why was I spared?”
“Because Fallon would give me all the power I needed, and you would allow me to acquire territory—something your brother couldn’t convince Killian to offer freely.”
“I did not go into that engagement freely,” she snapped.
“No, but you did as you were told.” He paused, his eyes darkening. “And then you betrayed me.”
Morah straightened her shoulders in defiance. “You deserve far worse than betrayal, given all that you’ve done.”
Ramil chuckled to himself. “You’ve always had a vicious tongue.”
“Fuck you!” she spat.
“There it is. There’s that fighter.” He began stalking around the perimeter of the chamber. “You will return to your rightful home, under my banner, and you will follow through with your commitment as planned, or it will be you on that altar, and I will find another way to acquire what I desire.”
Remic stepped forward on Morah’s behalf, hands now on the hilts of his blades.
Ramil noted the move, flicking his eyes over the Dionach. “If you want to sacrifice your life for hers, be my guest—”
“That’s enough!” I snapped.
“Yes, you’re right. I’m getting a bit off topic. It’s you that I truly need. You’re the whole reason we’re all down here.” He gestured to the room around him. “Bet you didn’t plan on leading your friends to their tomb, did you?”
My power rumbled within me.
I glanced behind us to where Maeson continued muttering the same words under her breath with her palms on Fallon’s forehead and stomach.
“Enough talk,” Niall chided. His shadows wafted from his shoulders and seeped out from his hands, snaking their way toward Ramil, ready for retribution.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Ramil tutted. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You see, if you kill me, you’ll bring this whole structure down on your loved ones. A little insurance to make sure this place and its secrets are never found out.” He tapped on his necklace.
The Alatyr.
Niall’s shadows pooled at Ramil’s feet, dancing over the stones like serpents ready to strike, but they could go no further. It seemed the Alatyr was acting as some sort of ward itself.
I wanted to call Ramil’s bluff, but I had no idea what he was actually capable of.
“I fear everyone underestimates me from time to time.” Ramil raised his hands, and a shimmering type of shield settled around the edges of the chamber. “Misjudges how strong my powers are.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Remic stiffen.
“Powers that are not even yours!” Morah yelled.
Then, Niall’s voice came across my mind. We can’t port.
What? What do you mean? I looked at him, then at Remic, who had a hint of panic behind his eyes as well.
Ramil sealed us in. It isn’t a ward, but whatever it is won’t allow porting as an entry or exit. If we’re to leave Benmoor, we must be on the other side of the door we entered this room through.
Everyone shifted nervously on their feet. Niall had communicated it to all of us.
I reached out with my power, feeling for the wall Ramil had just locked into place. It was different from the wards I’d manipulated. It felt old, strong, and its invisible string was directly tied to the Alatyr he wore.
We were locked in.
Old Magic, I said back to Niall.
“Mmm,” was his audible reply as he called his shadows back to him.
We would have to fight our way out of this, and get outside of the chamber to port. But with Maeson still working her magic on Fallon . . . We needed to buy her time as well.
“You don’t give two shits about anyone else but yourself!” Morah spat.
This time, Ramil didn’t even deign to reply. Instead, he turned his attention on me, and his eyes narrowed. “You will tell me how you got past my wards, or I will force it out of you, violently.”
It suddenly dawned on me that Ramil had no idea what I was capable of. He had danced around every notion of who I was, but never said it aloud. And now he wanted to know how I was able to get in his territory. Perhaps he wasn’t as well connected to Lyceius as we had thought.
“We can do this the easy or the hard way, Auren. You and my daughter can either come with me freely, and I will let your little friends run back to the mountains, or you’ll come in chains, and I will ensure that everyone rots in this crypt, alongside my son.”
Remic moved behind me and leaned in over my shoulder. “No negotiations,” he reminded me. His words were an anchor and a verse of retribution.
I unsheathed my sword and stared back at Ramil.
No negotiations.
If it meant letting my power loose, then so be it. None of my friends were dying for me today, and no one was getting left behind.
“You’re right,” I said to Ramil. “I am a half-breed bitch, and I brought your wards down with a simple thought. Your power is no match for me, High Lord.”
Ramil’s eyes flared with rage. He didn’t know exactly what I was, but given what I’d said, I knew his mind was tripping on itself, trying to figure it out.
He clutched the Alatyr around his neck. “I see we’ll be doing this the hard way.
Pity.” A unit of guards appeared in the doorway behind him, summoned on a silent command.
Remic swore under his breath. He tore both daggers from their sheaths at his thighs, wings flaring wide behind him. “Immortals,” he hissed.
“Immortals?” I echoed, trying to hide the panic in my voice.
Remic shifted on his feet, eyeing the beings as they crept forward. “They’re not truly immortal, but they’re unlike any other. Intensely trained, quick, precise. And there’s always an endless supply of them.” His facial markings lit red as he palmed his blades in each hand.
“Quicker than you?” I asked, eyeing the droves of enemies that filled the space.
“Damn near.”
“Well, that’s lovely,” I bit out.
The so-called “Immortals” drew closer. Their eyes cut like daggers through the small slits in the black metal masks that covered the entirety of their faces.
They wore black and gold armor, fitted neatly to their bodies like the scales of a strange animal.
And each was carrying a double-tipped spear, while a slender, curved sword hung from their hips.
Some twirled their spears in front of them as they neared.
Others held their weapons steady. But all of them moved so fluidly, it was as if they were gliding into place.
Morah clutched her daggers, and Roirdan withdrew his sword, wedging himself between Niall and I, ready to defend us both.
Maeson must have been listening this entire time because a circle of fire ignited around her and Fallon, protecting them while she continued doing whatever she could to bring him back to this side of reality.