Chapter 35
Riella froze.
The acolyte saw her, didn’t they? With the darkness of the room and their mysterious hoods, it was hard to be sure.
Heart thudding, she waited for the acolyte to call for guards, or alert their fellows. Riella and Jarin were blatantly sneaking up on two kings and a queen. Their actions were enough to have them thrown in the dungeon, if not summarily executed.
But the black-robed figure merely stared a few moments longer, before returning to the hushed conversation the others were having.
Riella released the breath she’d been holding. With his back against the statue, Jarin moved closer to the Garstangs and High Magus, whose voices echoed strangely in the cavernous room. She frowned, listening to Reynard’s icy tirade.
“—consort with filth. I agreed to the match on the condition that sorcery not be allowed inside these walls,” he said in a clipped accent. “Your presence is an affront.”
Riella raised her eyebrows beneath her mask. She’d never met the High Magus, but couldn’t imagine anyone taking kindly to such insult.
“Brother,” came Meliohr’s smooth voice. “The wedding is a day of pomp and ceremony, you know that. Once the delegation returns to Starlight Gardens, I doubt we’ll see the mages at all.”
A loaded silence followed.
Reynard sniffed. “Well. I’ll be glad to dance on the grave of your foulest pupil, at last. After Tjaele, it’s the barest justice I could receive.”
Foulest pupil? Riella didn’t know who or what Tjaele was, but with such strong talk, surely he referred to Polinth. If so, they might have an unlikely ally in Reynard.
She tapped Jarin’s back, which was taut with tension.
“Does he mean—” she whispered.
But her query was interrupted by King Reynard striding away from his sister and the High Magus. Riella cursed inwardly. Should they follow the king and try to enlist his help, or appeal to the High Magus? They were running out of time.
Jarin decided for her.
“I’ll follow him,” he muttered into her ear. He pulled her around the other side of the gargantuan state, so that they were out of Reynard’s sight when he stomped past them toward the doors. “You question the Magus. He’s an opaque man but he’ll not hurt you, and the queen seems harmless enough. Reynard could go either way. And Riella?”
She looked into his eyes, which were searing and bright behind his black skull mask.
“Yes?”
“I love you,” he said.
Then, he was gone, melting into the shadows in the wake of King Reynard.
His words left her strangely breathless. Then, a smile spread across her face beneath the privacy of her butterfly mask. How incredible.
She was loved. Though she would die, she would die loved. Could anyone truly hope for more?
The queen’s velvety voice broke through Riella’s joyful realization and she forced herself to concentrate on eavesdropping.
“My apologies,” she was saying. “He’s a bit of a zealot, I’m afraid. Old-fashioned in his beliefs. Given what he’s been through, you can understand. But I assure you, I’m far more amenable to the mystical arts than my brother. I hope you and I can be friends, Magus. Just don’t tell my brother.” Her laughter tinkled. “I’ve already enlisted the services of Polinth on a little project of mine. Brilliant man.”
Riella couldn’t believe her ears. Polinth certainly had been busy—he’d already hoodwinked the new queen. Without Jarin to temper her impulsivity, Riella hastened from her hiding spot to confront the queen and the High Magus.
“You’re wrong! Polinth is evil.”
She faltered as she looked from the queen’s surprised face to the High Magus’s eyes, which were pale gray and wintry under his crimson hood.
“He seeks the Amulet of Delphine,” she tried to explain. “He stole my Voice. And gave me legs. We need your help to stop him.”
The acolytes turned their attention to her, listening in silence. In Riella’s peripheral vision, royal guards materialized around the room, closing in slowly on her. The queen held up her hand and they halted, but did not disperse.
The High Magus regarded the siren, his eyes not moving from her masked face. “Stop him from what?”
“Well, we don’t really—” Riella quailed, aware that she sounded mad. “He does all kinds of awful experiments. And, he’s holding an elf captive! He drains her life force.”
“Goodness,” said Meliohr, her golden beaded dress glimmering in the low light. “The alcohol certainly has been flowing. Since it’s my wedding night and a happy occasion, I shall overlook that you didn’t address me in the proper manner.”
“What?” asked Riella, nonplussed. “Queen Petra never expected sirens to bow before her.”
Meliohr’s mood shifted instantly, steel appearing in her gaze. “I am not Queen Petra. Your first clue should’ve been?—”
The High Magus cut in, his voice chilling and low. “Polinth is not my concern. Nor should he be yours. The Amulet of Delphine lies at the bottom of the ocean. Unless you believe a siren will help him, which I highly doubt, all is well. This is not the first time he’s made a bid for such an item. He may be eccentric in his academic pursuits, but my understanding is that he has a progressive Rotting disease and is not long for this world. Whatever your quarrel with him, Nature will surely resolve things shortly. Now, leave us.”
Eccentric? Quarrel? He was a torturer and murderer.
And it was Riella who was not long for this world. The night would claim her before Polinth’s disease claimed him. Perhaps she should’ve pursued Reynard with Jarin. Confronting the High Magus was a waste of her precious remaining time.
“You don’t—” she started.
Riella did not hear the High Magus utter an incantation or move his hands, yet he must’ve cast magic, because a powerful energetic rebuff pushed her backward and made her words wither in her mouth.
She stumbled in her voluminous dress. Meliohr snapped her fingers at the nearest guards and they caught Riella as she fell, dragging her from the gallery while she fought to regain control of her body.
They released her in the hallway and she swayed on the spot while they watched her.
“I’ll take her,” came a female voice from the doorway.
A black-robed acolyte glided toward Riella. The hood covered her face to her lips, blood red against her snow-white skin.
The guards nodded and resumed their post inside the gallery, leaving Riella alone with the young woman.
“The High Magus sent me,” she said in even tones. “I am to lend you whatever assistance you need, courtesy of Starlight Gardens.”
Hope flurried in Riella’s stomach. “He wants to help me?”
The woman made a small sound in her throat. “Help might be too strong a sentiment. He loathes Polinth, and has taken measures over the years to keep him in check. The High Magus is distracted right now with the new queen. The Garstangs represent an existential threat to sorcerers, and having one on the Zermetic throne requires his full attention. But Polinth is a degenerate, no doubt. I’m sure he wants the amulet for his experiments in necromancy. So, let us ensure he does not get it.”
“Necromancy?”
Riella thought with dread about the skeletons littering the mountain outside of Polinth’s workshop.
The acolyte nodded. “It’s why he was expelled from Starlight Gardens. He’s been trying to make the High Magus regret it ever since. I’m Neve, by the way.”
With a sweep of her hand, Neve pushed back her hood to reveal thick black hair in elaborate braids and an intense brown stare.
“I’m Riella. But I thought the amulet grants life? The Sea Witch created it with an act of sacrifice. How can such a thing be used for darkness?”
“The amulet allows one to linger in the ephemeral space connecting life and death. The In-Between. With good intentions, you might give peace to a dying creature, or heal a deep wound in someone’s spirit, or communicate with a soul as they depart the mortal realm. With bad intentions—” She sighed. “Well, deploying dark magic in that precious space could cause limitless damage. It might dismantle the barrier between life and death altogether.”
“You can help me, though? You’re a sorceress?”
“I’m an apprentice. I warn that I’m no match for Polinth. My best hope would probably be to Bind him, and we run.”
Riella nodded. “Or you Bind him, and I crush his skull.”
“That’d work, too.”
“First, we need to find my—” She paused. “My friend. Jarin. He’s tall, dressed in black, wearing a skull mask. He went after Reynard.”
Neve blinked. “Why would he do that?”
“We hoped he could help us with Polinth. He seems to hate sorcerers.”
“Oh, that he does.” Neve’s dark eyes narrowed. “Do you?”
“Gods, no. Except Polinth, because he captured me and experimented on me.”
Her expression softened. “Sorry. The presence of Garstangs has us all on edge. Alright, well, let’s search the galleries. I’ll do the bottom level, you search this one.”
With a flick of her robes, she descended the marble staircase, leaving Riella alone.
The siren searched in a rush, wrenching open every door she passed. Partygoers in various states of undress occupied many of the rooms. The full moon winked at her through high windows.
Would Reynard help Jarin? Neve didn’t seem to have a high opinion of the Morktland king, and Riella understood why. But if he truly hated Polinth, he certainly had the power to do something about the sorcerer.
She’d just closed a library door when she caught sight of Seraphine, making her heart leap.
The elf wore a silk dress, her face paler and more sickly than the last time Riella saw her. Seraphine swayed, alone, at the quiet end of the corridor, silhouetted by candlelight. Was Polinth nearby? The siren waved at Seraphine, who responded by shuffling sideways until out of sight.
Riella hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. Where was Jarin? Her stomach dropped as she considered the possibility that she’d said her final goodbye to him without realizing.
And he loved her. Suddenly, she desperately wished she said something back to him. Before she departed the mortal plane, she wanted him to know what he meant to her. That she liked him, and wanted him, and perhaps even needed him.
But the desires of her heart did not matter. Not when Seraphine was in danger and Polinth was on the loose. She couldn’t forsake the elf, who had no one, for more time with Jarin. She’d made a promise.
Riella ran down the corridor, the skirts of her dress billowing around her, dodging drunken revelers. She turned the corner where Seraphine had disappeared, to another long hallway. The chandeliers were dark and the only light came from a few sputtering candles in the sconces on the walls.
“Seraphine?” called Riella.
Riella tugged off her mask and tossed it onto a console. Perhaps the elf had not recognized her.
This part of the palace was empty and as she walked farther, the laughter and music of the party faded.
Despite fearing for the Seraphine’s safety, Riella’s familiar predatory instinct kicked in, her senses becoming razor-sharp and her fingers flexing. Polinth had to be here, somewhere. If she was doomed to die, she would take him with her, piece by bloodied piece.
With another step, Seraphine’s face came into view. The elf stood in the shadows ahead, staring with unfocused eyes. Her mouth moved as she tried to speak, but no sound came out. Polinth had drained her nearly completely of life.
With another step, she saw him.
The sorcerer lurked behind Seraphine, a ghoulish leer on his face and one skeletal hand around Seraphine’s neck.
“Let her go,” said Riella, fighting to keep the rage from her voice.
“I will,” replied Polinth, smiling wider. “But you know what I want in return. Take me to the amulet.”
“Give me Seraphine.”
“Take me to the amulet,” he repeated with a sigh. “We could do this all day—go back and forth. But, one of us doesn’t have time for that.” His hawkish eyes gleamed. “Take me, and the elf will live. Is this not why you came all the way to Klatos? To redeem yourself after abandoning Seraphine, like a coward? You left her behind to save yourself.”
Riella’s head pounded with anger and shame. “You are one to speak of cowardice. You hide behind her, even now.”
“Yes, or no?”
The siren considered her choices. Mostly, that she had none. As much as she hated him, Polinth was right. Her life was already forfeit, and she owed Seraphine.
Could she really let Polinth have the amulet? If she could even find it. She didn’t know if she could swim deep enough, or locate the right spot.
But, at least she’d be in her own territory, out on the ocean. Powerful though he was, she had a better hope of catching him off guard and killing him on the open water. After all, the moon was still high, glaring at her through a window like an accusing eye.
The night was not over, yet.
“Fine. I agree.” Riella dug her talons into her palms with the effort of keeping her voice steady. “I’ll take you to the amulet.”