Shadow Prince, page 26
part #2 of Demon Hunter Series
“Kizoni was pregnant before she disappeared.” Deckard climbed the steps to the raised portion of the room by the throne.
Virgil inclined his head to hold Deckard’s gaze now that they stood on the same level. Of the two of them, Virgil had always been built smaller and lighter. He stood perhaps half a span shorter than Deckard, and this close together the difference was noticeable.
The priest glared at Deckard. “Your doing?”
The implied jab would once have made Deckard’s face go red. After three centuries, the old chill creeping along his spine was the same as the weakness left to him in the wake of lust.
“Not mine,” said Deckard. “Her husband left her a parting gift.”
“A potential heir?” said Virgil. “I appreciate you unburdening yourself, but with the regent missing, I will carry forward the tournament. This city needs a prince.”
“I agree,” said Deckard. “But that man you brought with you will not take the throne.”
Virgil smirked. “Ysaac Frost is a master of the blade, a skilled speaker, and a valiant retainer. Why shouldn’t he have his chance to sit a throne? All men deserve at least a fleeting glimpse of glory.”
“I know not what he deserves,” said Deckard. “But Cyrus may reign in Empire, and content himself with the powers he already holds. A puppet prince here is in no other human’s interest.”
“You act as if Lord Bode holds every leash so tightly.”
Deckard scoffed. “You’d not have come to this place without his orders.”
“I’m my own man, Hadrian.”
“Indeed.” Deckard glanced at the throne. “But your days of glory are fading.”
“I’ve more power in me now than you’ll ever wield in your entire immortal life. Do not tempt me to demonstrate my skills.”
“Mastering three sacra forms is an impressive feat,” said Deckard. “But calm yourself, parson. A battle between us could see this ancient palace in ruins. I’d rather hand it to the next prince as it is than as a pile of rubble.”
“Fair point.” Virgil grinned, showing mostly-well-preserved teeth, slightly yellow from age. “If there’s no other business at the moment, Hadrian, I have a tournament to organize.”
“How do you plan to choose victors?” Deckard asked.
“The head of each of the four houses will cast a vote for each of the three events, and I will cast one as well.”
“Three events? Are you looking to draw matters out?”
“Hadrian, you guessed one point correctly earlier. I wouldn’t be here by choice. You may leave your family to fly in the wind, but my second grandson was just born before I departed Geteren. I’d rather play the doting elder than preside over the chaos in this city. I speak truthfully.”
“Another grandchild,” said Deckard. “Congratulations.”
“Don’t pretend you care. My line is but a petty abrasion on the surface of time to one like you.”
“If your talent carries down the generations, I’d say that’s far from the case.”
“Sadly, my daughter never showed the least interest in magic, let alone sacra forms.” Virgil shook his head. “But at least she’s brought this old man little ones to care for again.”
“Keep yourself well, Parson Dane.” Deckard turned his back on Virgil. “And I will be watching.”
“I hope to see you at the tournament. We stand on neutral ground, immortal. I’d be sad to miss the chance to see your descendants fail before your eyes, so don’t fear me, for now.”
“I’ve never feared you,” said Deckard. “Powerful or weak, you’re a mage like any other.”
“Don’t lie,” said Virgil. “I’m the most formidable hunter ever to quest to take your life. And perhaps I’ll yet claim the instrument that breathes within your chest.”
“If you ever do, I’ll use the last air it gives me to take back what I said about your glory fading.” Deckard chuckled, hoping the sound didn’t seem forced. “I’ll see you at the tournament, parson.”
He marched from the palace, then took to the air.
THE SKY RIPPLED WITH moving clouds as darkness fell over Alliance outside her chamber window. Father had invited every challenger for the throne to dinner. She should go downstairs to greet people as they arrived, like a good hostess.
Ruar, Vual, and Heron...all these men are in the way. She hated to think of Ruar like that, in particular, but either Kuldettan brother could contest the princely seat. She didn’t want the throne for herself. What use did a poet have for power? Nevertheless...the family’s interests demanded she or one of their allies win the contest.
Catricha sighed and turned from the window.
She had to get ready for dinner. Time to look the best she could without donning a gown resembling human remains. She smiled at the memory. I must be bold tonight as well.
Under streams of water flowing from the mouths of the gargoyles in the bathroom, she washed away her body’s tension. By the time the bath’s fire began to cool she was already out and dressing. Catricha covered herself in a black, white, and green gown. The skirt’s patterns were of tree-roots, and the blouse’s of branches by night with highlights hinting at star-dappled greenery. She added her family’s ring, bearing their shield. For her brow she chose a silver circlet set with tiny rose-colored gems.
Garbed like a work of art, she descended the staircase to meet the evening’s guests. They began to arrive just as the sun set, by carriages insulated against the winter cold. The entrance hall was drafty and the weather outside was always noticeable in the larger rooms.
Catricha smiled at the first guests to climb the steps to the door. Heron Olfrus arrived like a brooding raven with his pale and slender sister on one side, and his tall mage, Melissa Dorian on the other. Melissa earned that party some respect, for Catricha didn’t seek to find fault with someone who might help her wield her newfound magical abilities.
Olfrus and both women were clad in fine clothing. The dress was cut to fit Melissa well, but she looked uncomfortable in it, regardless. She was still not accustomed to attending functions of the noble families, no doubt.
The gentle servant by the door announced the arrival of the second set of guests the moment.
Bethanelle Graef and another young mage, announced simply as Elaine, entered close behind Olfrus. They were followed by Galocai and Nansoela Paroth. Nansoela nodded to Catricha as they passed, following the others to the dining room.
“A good night to be well-dressed.” Catricha’s mother arrived at the base of the grand staircase beside her. “Thank you for not insisting on taking the opportunity to be outrageous, daughter.”
“If I’m to be taken seriously as a competitor for the throne, I must show a new side,” said Catricha.
“And you’re showing it beautifully, my love.”
“Thank you, mother.”
Hyla Maltos smiled slightly. “I say what I see. Honesty is an honorable path if not always an easy one.”
Catricha glanced at Hyla. “Honor is valuable to others, but I fear I’ll never earn enough to make up for my career.”
“On the contrary,” Hyla said. “Your words and your lines bring distinction to the family. We can be more than the shield of Alliance. We can be the wit as well. Now is too cold by the door for that dress to wait here. Perhaps you should got to the dining room to greet our guests there.”
“As you say, mother.” Catricha set off toward the dining room, fighting the urge to look over her shoulder to see if Ruar had arrived. If he came at all tonight, he’d be here soon enough.
IN THE DINING ROOM, Catricha found the guests already mingling with each other. Melissa, Heron, and Heron’s sister, kept to themselves on one side of the room. Bethanelle and Galocai seemed intent on remaining within earshot of them. Those two members of the lesser great families appeared to have little to say to each other.
On the other side of the table, the guests Catricha had missed while entering, were already engaged in conversation. These consisted of Eram, The gallant poet, and Sion Arver. She paused for a moment to consider him, but his presence shouldn’t have surprised her so much.
Sion glanced at Catricha as she frowned in his direction. Footsteps approached behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw Ruar and Vual Kuldettan emerge from the entryway. Perfect timing.
Of course, they would wait until she had just left the entry hall to arrive. Nansoela waved to Catricha. "Lady Maltos, I'm glad to see you're safe after your troubles underground and everything that’s happened since."
"That was the least of my worries.” As Catricha approached the table, she frowned. "After all, that day the dowager regent disappeared."
"I pray she’ll be found safe," said Nansoela. "We've had too much tragedy in the city as it is."
"Indeed," said Eram. “Though, I fear there will be more danger between now and times of peace."
"Do you fear it?" said Catricha. "Or do you long for it? You gallant poets certainly prefer action over peace much of the time."
"My lady," said Eram. "I'm insulted. After all, what kind of man would wish for war and conflict during the time a new house takes power?”
Catricha arched an eyebrow. “The kind who enters a challenge among nobles, despite having little power himself. That is why you are here, isn't it?"
Eram smiled broadly. “Though only a fool would assume that whoever wins will become the next prince, it would be good for my reputation to compete with such notables as yourself and the others present."
"I'm not sure I will compete," Catricha said. "If I'm honest, and I must be honest, I would rather see the city safely in new hands and the dowager regent returned to power then take the throne myself."
"You speak plainly," said Nansoela. "Have events shaken you?"
"As much as they shook the foundations of the city.” Catricha sighed. “I fear there is much danger still afloat."
"Wise," said Melissa Dorian from across the table. She stood up. "You may consider yourself a comic poet, but you speak more truth than I've heard in a while.”
“Heron?” Melissa turned to Lord Olfrus.
"Of course," he said. "Feel free to speak frankly."
Melissa nodded. "It's not a matter of who becomes the next prince as I understand. It's a matter of how we can protect whoever wins the challenge."
"Protect the next Prince," said Vual, marching in the room. "The only way to protect the next prince would be to place Catricha behind bars."
"Noted.” Catricha grinned at him. “And dismissed."
"Aren't your parents meant to officiate here?" said Vual. “Hosting this gathering doesn't seem fitting for someone with such suspicion on her."
"You're the only one who's suspicious,” Catricha said.
"Am I?" Vual’s nose wrinkled like he’d smelled something foul. "The people know who you really are, Catricha."
"That's quite enough.” Catricha's mother stepped into the room behind Vual and Ruar. "I will hear no more of such talk until after we've entertained you guests. Catricha, you’re hardly doing what I suggested you attempt."
Catricha turned to her mother and shrugged. "Sometimes even an entertainer needs her rest."
Vual snorted. Ruar grunted and glanced toward Catricha, over his brother’s shoulder. He half-nodded to her.
"Very well," said Hyla. "Dinner will be served shortly. The cooks are working as we speak."
"Is that why you called us here?” Heron asked. “You wish to extend your hospitality to all of us challengers?"
"Yes," said Hyla. "But not everyone is here yet."
"Who are we missing?" Eram glanced around the table.
"Only Sir Ysaac Frost," said Hyla.
"Ysaac?" said Catricha. "You invited the knight from the Chos Valley as well?"
"Not everyone here is from Alliance," said Heron. "I came from the Chos Valley recently, myself."
"Don't remind us.” Vual gritted his teeth. “Opportunist.”
"For once I agree with Vual.” Nansoela fixed Heron with an editor’s gaze. "You insinuated yourself into our affairs. I don't necessarily see the difference between you and Sir Frost."
"One of us serves the Geteren clan," said Heron without moving an inch. "He does. I am here to seek my fortune."
"You seek your fortune with mercenaries and mages," said Nansoela. "However, if the judges and adjudicators of the challenges consider your wit worthy, I’d understand better why you are here."
"How generous but I won’t require your understanding to govern Alliance."
"I will not require your submission to govern, either.” Nansoela smiled at Catricha. "But I require loyalty from the other families."
"Now, now," said Hyla. "This dinner’s purpose is hospitality. Please keep the claws in, Lady Paroth."
"Hiding your claws is not going to make them go away.” Catricha drummed her fingers on the table in front of her. “I say if we all speak openly and perhaps we will have a more productive evening."
"How very mature of you," said Bethanelle Graef.
"Appreciated.” Nansoela nodded to Catricha.
Galocai leaned back, tipping his chair on two legs. Catricha guessed he wanted to rest his feet on the table.
Melissa sat back down, putting her hands on the table one on top of the other.
"Shall we begin?" said Catricha. "Unlike my mother, I don't see the need to wait for Ysaac. He may not come at all."
Hyla crossed her arms. "He will attend if he cares anything of the customs of Alliance.”
"That assumes much," said Galocai.
"Quite so.” Vual glared around the room. “From his arrogance for being a mere knight assigned to this city, he must be the clan’s favored choice. He must think himself safe.”
"No one here is completely free of danger," said Catricha. "Anyone who's knows what happened to the Prince Saviron should understand the threat the shadow poses."
"Agreed," said Heron. "Lady Maltos, I mean Catricha, may I speak?"
"We don't need adjudicator here," said Catricha. "And you’re already speaking."
"I promise I’ll be more reasonable than the Kuldettan thug who stands at your side."
"He stands behind me," said Catricha. "Take from that what you will." She glanced at Ruar, who then shook his head. Vual grunted.
"Please take your seats.” Hyla extended her arms on either side. "I won't have you springing at each other over the table at dinner."
“Very well.” Vual took the seat near the head of the table, opposite Heron and his party. Heron’s sister glanced at Melissa. She looked ready to speak, but said nothing, and then lowered her gaze.
The Olfrus girl looked out of place, even among the youth of the city's nobility. Despite her age, Catricha suspected Heron’s sister might be more involved with the lord's ambitions than the two of them let on. A noble ingénue would be a difficult woman to arrange courtship without money or a high title. Catricha understood as much first-hand
“Catricha?" said Heron’s sister in a small voice. “Would you speak first?”
Catricha shook her head. "I think we ought to start with the way the situation arose. The prince of this city and his steward were slain by a shadow, an evil monster from of some kind. It is my suspicion that this shadow originated before the city's name was changed to Alliance."
"The shadow is that old?" Heron leaned forward, forearms on the table, brows bending inward.
"Is it a demon?" asked his sister.
"We don't know," said Catricha. "But this shadow ruler may have existed in the city for some time. I don't know exactly what happened to bring it back, but having been silent for perhaps a millennia, it chose our time to arise again."
"Where did you learn this?" asked Melissa.
"Wait a moment," said Catricha. "I'll get to that."
She told them as much as she could remember about the shadow of Jasguara as quickly as she could, but as she spoke, a darkness at one corner of the room began to solidify into a humanoid form behind Heron’s seat.
Catricha’s eyes widened. The same shadowy form that appeared after Saviron’s murder materialized behind Lord Olfrus in the dining room.
"LOOK OUT!" SHE CRIED just as the shadow slipped away from her perception.
“What?” Heron stood up fast, looking over his shoulder. "What is this?"
"The shadow," said Catricha. “It was here.”
"What shadow?" Heron scanned the space behind his seat. "I see nothing but a wall and the tapestries upon it."
"It's not—No, it was there!”
"The killer is here?” Vual’s chair shook and his hands trembled on the table. He got to his feet, shoving back the seat so it nearly tottered and fell over. He caught the chair with his other hand before it could crash to the floor.
"I saw it," said Catricha. "The shadow."
"Is it in the room now?" Melissa scowled. "If we catch it, we can put an end to this whole affair."
"It went away. It seems the shadow can appear and vanish at will.” Catricha looked this way and that. “How can we stop that?”
"You're the best one to fight it," said Melissa. "I can tell by your essence’s mastery of darkness."
"Mastery?" said Catricha. "How can my essence do anything? I know almost no magic.”
"You’re not very studied," said Melissa. "But your magic is there. Your essences are like mine, that way."
Galocai stood, looking around, essences singing their soothing tunes even in the dire situation. "Sister," he said, "You and Ruar should go."
Melissa said to the Olfrus girl, “Niba, you should go too."
"I'm staying as long as my brother.” Niba Olfrus folded her arms. "If this beast is in the darkness, the household is too dangerous for us to go elsewhere without lights of our own."
"A good point.” Ruar’s teeth set on edge. He glanced at Catricha, hands trembling, but not with the rage that Vual exhibited. Instead, he shook with fear.
"You.” Vual turned to Catricha. "You will assist me."
