Oracle (9 page)

    
“Exactly.
And with both the Duke and my stepmother siding with him he could very well
win. That would be a disaster.” She gave him a pointed look. “Something must be
done about it.”

    
Mark knew
what was coming and would have given anything to avoid it. “Are you suggesting
I
should do something about it?”

    
“Perhaps.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Tell me, how far are
you willing to go for me.”

    
“To the
ends of eternity and beyond,” he said without a moment’s hesitation.

    
“Stop
with the nonsense, already. This is serious.”

    
If only
she knew how serious he was. “You are the princess and I nothing but a lowly
servant. Thus I am yours to command, as always.”

    
“Then let
us get straight to the matter,” she said. “I want you to murder my cousin in
the bloodiest manner you can devise and leave his body in the central courtyard
for the birds to have at.”

    
It was as
he had expected, but to hear her state it so plainly took his breath away. Ever
since first coming to the castle to work in the kennels, Mark had held the
truth of his past close to the vest. A certain kind of mannerisms and a few
well chosen hints dropped about and he had managed to convince everyone he was
a rogue come to the castle to hide himself from those who would have his head.
It wasn’t long before he had everyone believing him to be a dangerous, stone
cold killer.

    
It was
Mark’s attempt at reinventing himself, for in truth his past held neither
mystery nor excitement. He’d never killed a man or even been in any kind of a
real fight. He was no rogue, no bandit, no assassin, only a farmer’s son with a
good eye for dogs and a desire to better his circumstances. But he’d never
expected to make actual acquaintance with the king, or to be promoted to kennel
master. And never in his wildest dreams had he imagined his faux persona would
draw the attention of the princess.

    
Mark was
in over his head here and he knew it. But then he had
been
in over his
head ever since the first moment
Daniella
cast her
gaze his way. He’d dared to touch the fire and somewhere deep inside he’d
always known it was bound to burn eventually.

    
“I’ll
take care of it.” He spoke the words with a nonchalance he most certainly did
not feel. “When?”

    
“I
haven’t decided yet.”
Daniella
twisted the sheet
around her fingers. “I expect at some point today he will make his case before
the High Priest. Let him. I would hear how that must play out before anything
else is done. You keep an ear to what’s happening. I know you get all the
servant’s gossip. If it sounds as though the High Priest might truly be
considering him as king over my brother, then you strike. But I warn you, if
you are caught and breathe a word of my involvement in this I will have you on
your knees begging me for death.”
 

    
It
wounded him knowing she had no idea how he would cut out his own tongue before
speaking a word against her. But he didn’t show his hurt. He only laughed, as
if her words amused him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiled in the way he knew
she liked. “You know, killing a nobleman right under the noses of the castle
guards will be no easy feat. How can I expect to be paid for this bloody deed?”

 
   
Daniella
let the
sheet slide slowly away from her body as she rose from the bed. She strolled
toward him, moonlight highlighting her naked form in all the right places.
“What do you expect to be proper payment?”

    
“The
castle coffers are filled to the brim with King’s marks, gold, and jewels,” he
said, doing his best to hide the sudden hitch in his throat. “For the murder of
Lord Charles I would expect to have my pick.”

    
“Really?”
Daniella
leaned towards him with her hands braced on
the chair arms. “You don’t consider yourself well paid in advance?”

    
Mark’s
heart picked up its beat, flooding his body with warmth. “How do you figure?”

    
“You
already possess the greatest jewel the castle has to offer.” She slid forward into
the chair until her hips were straddling his waist. “Me.”

    
“My, my.”
Mark twined his fingers into her hair. “You are an arrogant one, aren’t you?”

    
“A
privilege reserved for those of us born with noble blood. Something you
couldn’t understand, I’m sure.”

    
“You are
quite right, princess.” Mark pulled her closer. “Nothing noble about me at
all.” He captured her lips with his own, slipping his tongue across hers and
shivering as she moaned against him.

    
A mortal
woman she might be, but no doubt
Daniella
was Mark’s
goddess and if worshiping her required laying a little blood at her altar then
so be it.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

    
Dim light
flickered across the cavern walls.
Shirelyn
lay with
her cheek pressed to the cold stone floor. Weariness had overtaken her before
she could reach her room and so she lay there, waiting for her strength to
return. She felt hollowed out inside, a sure sign she was pushing herself too
far and it was a terrible danger. Especially now, with the Cataclysm so near to
hand.

    
It wasn’t
easy to plot and scheme from her prison. It took great effort and great power
to reach beyond the barriers of this realm, though it was considerably easier
than it once was, thanks to the failing of the wards holding her there.

    
Still,
she needed her strength for the moment when she would once more face her
brothers. They had expended far more energy than she had and for much longer,
trifling with turning themselves into gods to be worshiped by those of the
lesser realm. A foolish waste of power. She might have expected as much from
Ishkael
, he had ever been the impetuous and reckless sort,
but
Mishkael
should have known better.

    
This
foolishness boded well for
Shirelyn
. The weaker the
twins were come the Cataclysm, the easier they would be to kill. And they must
be killed this time, no doubt of it. It would be them or her, no space
in-between.

    
She did
regret the destruction which would be caused by the Cataclysm, but it was a
necessary evil. All the walls between the realms had to come crashing down if
she was to rule over them. How she looked forward to the day when she would be
queen once more, as she was over her own land before her traitorous brothers
attempted to steal what was not rightfully theirs.

  
  
Once the twins were dead and all the realms
unified under her watch, she could rebuild the world into a new realm of peace
and security. And she would protect this world as she had been unable to
protect those realms her brothers had destroyed in their rampant greed. It was
a pity many, many lives would be lost in the creating of this new world, but
true peace could never be achieved without the spilling of blood.

    
Shirelyn
took a steadying breath and pushed herself to her
feet. Now was not the time for thinking and worrying, but for rest. She was
confident those few who might have been able to prevent the Cataclysm had been
put well out of the way. She and
Mishkael
had worked
in tandem on this, though not out of any sense of familial loyalty, but only
because they both sought the Cataclysm. Both wanted freedom. Both wanted to
rule. Both wanted the other dead.

    
Her room
was located in a cavern filled with bits and piece she had gathered from the
ruined realm above during the early days of her imprisonment. Everything she
now owned was but a remnant of a world her brothers had destroyed.

    
For a
long time, her magic held these possessions intact when they long ago should
have faded away and perished. But since she’d begun reaching out beyond this
realm she’d been forced to draw the magic back into herself. Thus many of her
precious treasures had become somewhat less than they once were. More than one
had deteriorated to a point where she no longer knew what they once were. Here
or there, piles of dust lay scattered across the cavern floor. The entire room
smelled of rot and decay, but she simply could not bring herself to clear it
out.

    
Shirelyn
lowered herself to a pile of rotted rags which
were once silken sheets. She lay on her side smiling at her dearest and only
friend, who sat on a plump cushion beside the bed. “Hello, Shush. Did you miss
me while I was away?”

    
Shush
stared silently back at her with one blue eye. The other eye was lost to the rubble
above and though
Shirelyn
had strove to find the
missing half of the porcelain doll’s face, it had been to no avail. But Shush
was still lovely, even with her dress scorched and her blonde hair matted.

    
“I know,”
Shirelyn
said. “I promised you we would be whole. And
we shall. Soon. Once I am queen, you will have only the finest of dresses to
wear and servants to fix your hair. It will be lovely. But for now you must
have patience, my pet. I need to rest and prepare myself for what’s to come.”

 
   
Shirelyn
closed
her eyes. “Wake me when the sun comes up.”

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

    
Even
after all that had happened, Anastasia could hardly believe this was all real. The
existence of higher powers flew in the face of all she was raised to believe.
Everything about the faith of the God Above was a lie.
Mishkael
,
she had to remind herself this was his true name. To set all she had known
aside and face this new truth was not easy. It was like a dream, or a
nightmare.

    
“Ana?”
Simon touched her arm, causing her to jump. “I said your name three times and
you haven’t heard me. Are you all right?”

    
“Yes.”
She breathed a laugh. “My mind was wandering is all. What did you want?”

    
“To ask
if you need a break.”

    
“Again?”
Selene asked. “At this rate we’ll never reach Oracle.”

    
Simon
frowned. “Ana is not accustomed to all this walking. If she needs to rest, we
rest.”

    
Anastasia
blushed slightly, though she knew already she was by far the weakest member of
the group. “It’s all right. Really. I’m not tired.” This was not entirely true,
but whatever fatigue she was feeling paled in comparison to her desire to reach
Oracle as quickly as possible. Even if the outcome would be as she feared
rather than as Simon hoped.

    
“Are you
certain?” Simon asked. “We have time.”

    
“I don’t
want to stop.” She laid her hand over his. “I just want this to be over. Then
I’ll have all time I need to rest and to... well, to readjust my view on so
many things.”

    
He
nodded. “I understand the feeling. As I understand how it must be for you,
finding out the truth about the God Above. I had faith in him too. I had no
idea what he truly was until Fate told me.”

    
“None of
us did,” Selene said. “Until all this, I thought of the Cataclysm as nothing
but a story.”

    
“You
weren’t alive when Oracle made her prophecy?” Anastasia asked.

    
Selene
shook her head. “It happened long before I was born. I knew the tale of the imprisoned
gods as well, but I didn’t believe in that either. My own parents were there,
they were part of it, and I had no idea. I thought those stories were handed
down to them by their own elders. Now I know better.” She glanced at Reaper.
“You were there too, weren’t you? You say you aligned yourself with
Shirelyn
, so you must have been.”
 

    
“I was
there,” Reaper said. “And I assure you whatever you have heard cannot compare
to what I saw. It was no story.”

    
“Oh, but
it
is
a story,” Brandon said. “The grandest and most important story of
them all. And we’re part of it.” He clasped his hands together and giggled.
“Isn’t it thrilling?”

    
“I’m not
sure thrilling is the word I’d use,” Selene said. “Considering we could all die
before it’s over.”

    
Brandon
shrugged. “In the end, we all die. It’s not death which matters, but the life
you lived. Better to die on a great adventure than in a rocking chair.”

    
“That is
arrogant youth talking,” Selene snapped. “What do you understand of life and
death?”

    
“Quite a
bit, actually. You know, on account of being an assassin.”

    
Selene
scoffed. “Being a killer for hire gives you no special knowledge. Clearly you
have never had anyone you love violently ripped away from you or else you
wouldn’t speak so flippantly of death.”

    
Though a
smile was still on his lips, Brandon’s eyes had taken on a wintery chill. “I
might be better versed in that than you think. You don’t know me. I could have
all sorts of tragedy hidden under my hat.” He touched the top of his head. “If
I were wearing a hat, that is.”