Armageddon (Angelbound) (7 page)

“Safe from what, Father?”

Connor shakes his head. In just the last few seconds, the lines on his face seem to multiply and deepen. I’ve never seen him look so old or tired. “Please, let me be. I’ve done all I can.”

A small voice in my mind says to pity this man. Connor never recovered from giving up the crown. Now, he’s a shell of his former self and clearly upset. But that little voice doesn’t stand a chance. This is about Maxon’s safety.

Lincoln’s mismatched eyes narrow. “You
can’t
say…”

I finish his thought. “Or you
won’t
say?”

Connor slowly rises to his feet. “I’m leaving now. This is disrespectful.” He takes two steps toward the door before Lincoln pins him to the wall, his forearm pressing against Connor’s throat. My own breath catches. Lincoln is almost out of control.

“Out with it.” Lincoln pushes harder onto Connor’s neck. “What do you know?”

Octavia rises to stand beside me, her place pale. I know how she feels. I’ve never seen Lincoln so angry.

Connor gasps for breath. “I ca… I won’t….”

Octavia’s hands flutter by her chin. “My son, what are you doing?”

“You know damn well what I’m doing.” Lincoln re-slams Connor against the wall, only with more force this time around. “You find the strength and tell me, Father. Now.”

“Lin… Lincoln…” Connor’s face turns purple.

“What do you know?” Lincoln’s voice raises to a roar. “Stop being a weak, self-centered worm for once in your life. Find the strength to tell me what’s happening to my son!” Connor’s face turns a deeper shade of purple. His eyes roll back into his head.

“Lincoln, stop it,” I say. “You’re choking him.”

“I’m not choking him.”

Lincoln steps back and Connor crumples to the floor, gasping for breath. The purple hue stays on his face a few seconds too long to be natural.

Unholy Hell. I know what that means.

All the breath leaves my body. Lincoln was testing Connor for a certain kind of magic. And based on the results, there’s only one explanation for the odd purple hue on the face of the King Emeritus.

This is so bad.

“Connor’s under a magical compulsion,” I say quietly. “Whatever he knows, he can’t speak of it.”

Octavia sadly shakes her head. “Yes, that’s right. I’ve taken him to the best witches and warlocks in Striga. It’s unbreakable.” She grips her hands at her waist so hard, her knuckles turn white. “I wanted to tell you, but what could any of us do? And now, we have Hildy. Connor says that everything will be fine.”

Octavia’s mouth keeps moving, and I know she’s blathering on about something, but my attention’s consumed by her mismatched eyes. Something dark lurks in them that I’ve never seen there before. Fear. She knows her husband well enough to realize that whatever he’s hiding, it’s something life-changing. Maybe even relationship-stopping. Chilly tendrils of dread creep through my torso.

What could be so bad that it scares Octavia?

Lincoln pins his mother with a look of disgust. “You manipulated Father into giving up the crown. You were able to do that, but when you knew he was hiding something about Maxon, you did nothing?”

“There wasn’t anything I could do,” says Octavia, but her words sound more like a question. “The compulsion in unbreakable.”

My mind fixates on that one word.

“Unbreakable?” I repeat, my body turning numb with shock. “You know what that means, don’t you? Damn, I know hardly anything about Striga magic and I know what that means.”

Connor and Octavia stare at the floor, speechless. Silence, really? Fine, if they’re going to make me say, it, I’ll say it.

“It means that Connor agreed to the compulsion. Otherwise, almost anyone in Striga could break it.” I turn to Connor, my eyes blazing red with wrath. “Let me get this straight. You’ve known about some threat to Maxon from Hell for years, and you
agreed
to a compulsion so you couldn’t speak about it to anyone?”

Octavia steps in front of me, grabbing me by the upper arms. “You don’t know Connor like I do. There has to be an explanation for all of this.”

I break free from Octavia’s grip. “You’re talking crazy. Where is the Queen I used to know?”

Octavia’s shoulders slump. “You have to trust me on this. I know Connor.”

“Not happening,” I say, my voice deadly low.

“Look,” adds Lincoln. “Myla and I are not trusting your faith in Father when Maxon’s safety could be at stake.”

Connor leans against the wall, tears lining his eyes. “I’ve done all I could. There’s nothing left to say.”

“There’s everything left to say, Father.”

Connor straightens his tunic, an effort that only makes it more cockeyed. “We’ve covered as much on this topic as we can. Hildy’s good. More than enough to protect Maxon. There’s no better monopsyche in a thousand years. You’ve no idea how hard it was to hire her. Maxon’s safe now.”

“You see?” says Octavia. “You can trust your Father. He may not be able to tell us everything, but he knows the full story. If he says Maxon is more than protected, then he is.”

“Not good enough, Mother. Not by a long shot.”

Octavia leads Connor toward the door in slow, shuffling steps. “Children, I realize you’re worried about Maxon. Connor and I feel the same way. However, there’s no point causing family strife over something we can do nothing about. The compulsion is unbreakable, and that’s an end to it.”

She’s not getting away that easily. Even I know what we can try next. “This isn’t over,” I say firmly. “Connor’s going to the Striga Elders.”

“Agreed,” says Lincoln.

The Striga Elders are the most powerful witches and warlocks in Striga. Totally badass, especially their leader, Elder Faustina. If anyone can break the spell on Connor, they can.

“The Striga Elders?” Connor looks at me like I just grew two heads. “Criminals go there. I’ve done nothing wrong. I won’t set foot in that chamber.”

“Oh yes, you will.” Lincoln opens door and barks orders down the hall. “Guards, take the King Emeritus into custody.”

Octavia gasps. “No! Not your father. What will the people say? He’s already stepped down from the throne.”

A muscle feathers along Lincoln’s jaw. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, Mother.”

Not for the last time, I look at Octavia and wonder.
Who is this person and what have you done with Octavia?

“This is outrageous,” bellows Connor. “I stepped down from my throne for you. I’ve spent years doing everything I can to keep your son safe.”

“Except tell me what’s going on.” Lincoln opens the door wider; a half-dozen guards march in.

Connor shrinks back. “I won’t go. Hasn’t my name been ruined enough for you? Everyone sees me as a weakling for stepping down so young. Now, I’ll seem like a criminal, too.”

“Use the enchanted manacles,” says Lincoln in a low voice. “He won’t fight you then.”

The Captain of the guard pulls a set of iron links from his waistband.

Connor raises his hand. “Stop right there, boy. I ruled these lands when you were only a babe suckling your mother’s teat. You do this to me? There will be consequences.”

The Captain hesitates. Quick as lightning, Lincoln steps in and grabs the man’s forearm. “Make no mistake, I’m the real power in Antrum. Have been ever since I was nine years old. Who are you really afraid of, solider?”

The Captain nods and snaps the manacles onto Connor’s wrists. The barest purple hue flashes through the dark metal.

Connor raises his chained hands. “Since you wish to humiliate me, I won’t go quietly.” He raises his voice to a howl. “I want everyone to know this wasn’t my choice!”

“Take him by the back stairs,” commands Lincoln. “Lock him up in the dungeons.”

Connor pauses mid-rattle. “You…You don’t mean that.”

Lincoln raises his brows. “I mean that precisely.” He gestures to the guards. “Solitary confinement until we can get the boats ready to travel to Striga. We leave as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The Captain of the guard grips Connor’s shoulder, angling his body toward the door.

“Wait,” pleads Octavia. “The Anointing starts in a matter of hours. You want to handle this quietly, fine. But take Connor to Striga after the ceremony is over. We can’t Anoint the new Earl if you’re both in Striga. At least, give me that.”

Lincoln and I share another long look. We’ve spent three long years investigating, gutting and rebuilding Acca. Octavia’s spent decades plotting against them. Plus, there’s something to be said for getting some additional insight before we see the Striga Elders. “I’d like talk to my father first, anyway. Would be good to get his thoughts before we go.”

“Exactly,” adds Octavia. “Xavier can help you. Besides, the Council won’t meet until midnight.” Her mismatched eyes glisten with tears. “Please.”

“Fine,” states Lincoln. “He goes to the Council after the Anointing.”

Octavia steps closer to Lincoln, grasping his right hand in both of her own. “My son, I’ll ask you one last time. Please reconsider—”

“Don’t try me, Mother. Not when it comes to Maxon.”

I move to stand by Lincoln’s side. “Connor will visit the Elders, Octavia. Consider the subject closed.” I glance over to the wall clock and then turn to Lincoln.

“Based on the message Dad sent last week, he should’ve arrived an hour ago for his play date with Maxon. We need to find him.”

“Yes, let’s leave,” says Lincoln. He glances pointedly at Connor. “We’re done here.”

Lincoln and I walk down a deserted corridor, our footsteps drumming out a quick, anxious rhythm against the marble floor. At the end of the gilded passageway stands a huge set of wooden doors with the Rixa eagle carved across them. My heart thuds harder in my chest.

That’s the West Gym, all right.
According to Dad’s message, he and Maxon should be inside right now, enjoying their play date.

Ever since I spoke to Hildy, I’ve wanted to hold my son, feel his heart beating, and know that my baby’s safe. Now, he’s only a short walk away. At last.

As we close in on the gym doors, Maxon’s excited voice carries through the hallway. Lincoln and I share a nervous smile. Our boy’s here with his friends, enjoying time with my father.

He’s safe, Myla.
Breathe.

I return my attention to the closed door. A new figure materializes before it—a man who’s tall, handsome and ebony-skinned. Like always, he wears a white kilt and leather sandals.

“Anubis?” I stop in my tracks, my voice raised in shock.

“Greetings, little Scala.” He bows to Lincoln. “Your Highness.”

“Hello, Anubis,” says Lincoln. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“And you as well.”

Much as I love small talk with a demigod, I’d really rather be either hugging my kid or getting advice from my Dad.

“What are you doing here, Anubis?” I ask.

That thirsty look gleams in his eyes. “I think you can guess.”

He’s right. I can.

“You want me to dreamscape with Nefer again.”

“Yes, I do.” He shakes his head. “Believe me, I’d convinced myself it was over. I thought I didn’t need to see her again. But after yesterday?” The lines of his face tighten with pain. “I must see her. I can’t leave things the way I did.”

“Why do you need me, then? Can’t you walk over and visit her?”

“My power is limited to gateways,” explains Anubis. “Your dreamscapes act as a gate between realms, so they fall into my domain. I can easily hide who dreamscapes with whom. However, walking around Hell means passing into Armageddon’s realm, and there, I can’t hide my actions. Should Armageddon ever discover the truth about Nefer and me, she’ll be sent to the torture pits in a heartbeat.”

I nod slowly. “Understood.”

Anubis’s face brightens. “You’ll help me, then? I only need to speak with her for a few minutes. It won’t take long.” His eyes are all pleading and watery, but I’m low on sympathy today.

“You already know why I can’t help you. I’m tracking down Nefer’s intel about a royal abduction, so I can’t lose any time now.” I eye him carefully. “Unless you’re willing to make a trade.”

“Name it.”

“You’ll owe me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“I’ll let you know when I know. But considering that the royal abduction rumors involve Armageddon, you can bet it will have something to do with him.”

Anubis rubs his neck. “Fine. One favor.”

“Good, you’ve got two minutes.”

Lincoln loops his hand around my waist. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I’d rather if you went to watch Maxon. I’d feel better knowing that one of us is with him.”

Lincoln kisses me gently on the forehead. “Be safe.” He steps toward the door, pauses, and then turns to Anubis. “If this scheme of yours hurts my wife in any way, I will hunt you down and destroy you utterly. Do we understand each other?”

Anubis chuckles, but there’s no humor in his laugh. “Yes, I do, actually.” When he next speaks, his voice comes out as barely a whisper. “I know what it’s like to feel so strongly for a woman.”

My heart goes out to the guy, er, demigod. He really has it bad for Nefer. Turning on my heel, I march down the hall, waving for Anubis to follow me. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go find your girl.”

# # #

Once again, I summon my dream-version of Purgatory’s Arena. This time, making the connection with Nefer is easy-peasy. Within seconds, she stands in my virtual stadium. Kiya sits on her shoulder, his yellow eyes glowing with an inner light.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” says Nefer.

“Same here.”

“Not sure why you summoned me, however. I’m afraid I’ve nothing new to tell you.”

“No worries.” I shrug. “I didn’t summon you to talk.”

Nefer’s pulse starts pumping so hard, the veins in her neck throb. “Then, why am I here?” Based on the fact that she’s about to go into cardiac arrest, I think Nefer knows exactly why I summoned her.

“One guess, Nefer.”

The earth rolls and buckles beneath our feet. Then, it bursts apart. A circular wall rises from the broken ground to enclose Nefer and me. Just like before, the round structure is made from a shifting fabric of slithering vines. A section of the wall pulls apart, reminding me of curtains parting on a stage. Anubis races through the new opening, stopping only when he stands right before Nefer. They stare at each other, their mutual energy filling the air.