Temperance (17 page)

What the—

Four keys will open the Tower. That is where he lies. He said so. I heard.
 

A bead of sweat appeared on Kai’s forehead. The Empress’s thoughts were in some sort of manic state as her delusional ramblings continued.

Find the keys. Find the four keys. Might take years. And I did. I did find them—but he lied
, she spat, and before Kai could even try anything to help Naeve, Seraphine thrust the key inside her chest until it vanished.

A loud, agonizing scream ripped from Naeve as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears seeping from the sides.
 

It’s not just the four keys,
Seraphine’s thoughts sneered as she wrenched her hand free.
It’s the four children, and her. It’s
always
been her.
 

She raised her eyes back to his, and as her image flickered, Kai wondered just how much of her strength it had taken to do what she had done. She was growing weak.

I don’t know how she got where she went, but I need Maeve back here. Fear of losing those you love should do the trick, and what’s stronger than a mother’s love? I
will
get what I want.

Kai couldn’t help his thought any more than his useless body at that point.
And what’s that?

The one thought long gone by my dear, dear sister. The one who
will
rule by my side.

And if she doesn’t come before they die?

Oh, this won’t kill them. But it will make their hearts and souls as black as mine.
 

The venomous words hissed through his head as she relinquished her hold over him and the apparition beside Naeve vanished.

The Empress didn’t want these women. She wanted what she’d always wanted—Lach’Lan.

Whom no one has seen for years,
Kai thought, his limbs once again his own
.
 

There was silence, and then Naeve’s body crumbled to the ground, her eyes still closed.

He lives, Mala’Kai. Did my brother not tell you?
Seraphine’s haunting words echoed around him.
Perhaps you should ask where Lach’Lan lies. Then we’ll see who’s telling the truth, won’t we?
   

Before he could refute her claims, Seraphine’s weakened presence dissipated and vanished.

He quickly bent down over Naeve, rolling her to her back. Then he brushed her hair away from her face, and there…that was when he saw it.
 

An inky, dark line extended along the vein by her temple—a darkness that had not been there before.

* * *

Naeve remembered a woman. The same woman she’d seen back in Wilmington—back in the tarot shop. Black hair, pale skin. But this time…strange eyes. The same kind of eyes Bastian sometimes had.
Black.

She remembered looking down the hill, expecting to see her sisters and men—people who would save her—and seeing nothing.

She could feel a dull ache in her head and a burn in her chest as she tried to open her eyes, but nothing was happening. She couldn’t do it even though she knew she was trying.

Kai…
 

A flash of memory entered her mind—Kai falling to his knees, his big arms being pinned, and his face looking strained. She remembered—he couldn’t move.

What happened to him? Where am I? Where is he?

“Naeve.”

She could hear her name being said and tried again to open her eyes.
Nothing.
She couldn’t do it.

Naeve
, she heard again, and this time when she tried, her eyes obeyed.

Her lids felt heavy as they lifted. She could see a flickering torch secured to a stone wall off to her side, and when she focused on the familiar face looming over her, dark, shoulder-length hair fell forward to surround them. Troubled, grey eyes searched hers as a severe set of lips grimaced, and she felt solid muscles under her where she lay across a lap.

She was about to open her mouth and ask where she was when Kai murmured, “Hello, little rabbit.” Then he looked away from her, over his shoulder and said, “This one’s awake.”

“Good. Now, we wait on the other.”

Naeve didn’t recognize the second voice, but when Kai brushed a hand over her hair and a frown of consternation crossed his features, she didn’t really care. She was alive, and from the sound of things, Siobhan was here too.

Wherever
here
was.

“Bring him to me.”

Ry’Ker stood before Li’Am and waited as one of the guards turned to fetch Si’Bastian. The sensualeer was in trouble—of the monumental kind. And as Ry’Ker stood with his arms behind his back, he wished that he could disappear from the reunion that was about to happen.

They’d returned to L’Mere a little over an hour ago, and he’d just finished relaying the information that had been acquired. Once he’d finished, Li’Am had given an unreadable grunt, turned to the man by Ry’Ker’s side, and demanded he get his son.

He didn’t know what the relationship was like between the two, but he knew one thing: it sure as hell wasn’t good. The most he’d ever spoken to Si’Bastian had been over these last couple of days, and it didn’t seem right that he be here for this but Li’Am had yet to dismiss him. So like the loyal guard he was, he remained.

The sound of heavy boots indicated the return of the other man, and before he could look over his shoulder, Ry’Ker felt the air beside him shift and Si’Bastian appeared.

Gods.
He clenched his jaw, irritated that he’d been caught off guard, and looked slightly to his right.
 

Instead of the shirtless man from the forest, Si’Bastian stood beside him dressed the way he imagined any royal would. Almost. Despite the black leather pants and a simple, white poet shirt, the sensualeer hadn’t bothered fastening, so it hung loosely in a disrespectful manner off his shoulder.
 

Ry’Ker knew that Si’Bastian’s disregard for propriety would annoy Li’Am, but the obvious rebellion was what was on his head.
 

Perched a little to the left, atop spiky, black hair, gleamed a shiny, gem-encrusted crown that was only to be worn by the select few in power, and Ry’Ker had no idea how Si’Bastian had come by it. It bore the Arcanian symbol of the sun, star, and moon. The Guardians.
 

The sensualeer didn’t even spare him a glance. He merely fixated on the man standing in front of them.

“Si’Bastian.” Li’Am’s greeting was impersonal, as though he were addressing any man, not his own flesh and blood.

Ry’Ker could have sworn he felt Si’Bastian stiffen beside him.

“Li’Am.” The clipped reply spoke volumes, and the air crackled with the tension thrumming in the room.
 

Li’Am took a step forward and clasped his hands behind his back, similar to the way he himself was standing, before taking Si’Bastian’s measure.
 

Like his son, Li’Am had coal-black hair and the same dark eyes. However, unlike the sensualeer, he was dressed in formal attire. Regal as ever in his red surcoat with the Arcanian symbol across his chest, he had a large, black robe lined with silver fox fur draped around his wide shoulders.

His irritated eyes moved from Si’Bastian over to him, and Ry’Ker felt his dissatisfaction rolling off him in waves.

“I’m told that one of the women remains unconscious. Is that correct?”

Ry’Ker wasn’t sure if the question was directed at him, but when Si’Bastian remained silent, he decided that, if he didn’t say something soon, the three of them would be standing there in a stalemate for the foreseeable future.

“Yes, Commander.”

As his answer left his tongue and echoed through the hall, Ry’Ker heard in his head,
Bravo, Guard.
He was about to turn to the man beside him, but—

Don’t. Not unless you really want to see a thunderous storm.

Barely restraining himself, Ry’Ker continued looking at his leader.
 

“Do we know what happened to her?” Li’Am asked.

“We suspect the same thing that occurred with her sister. A key has likely been placed in or above the heart.” Ry’Ker was clear and concise with his facts and watched as Li’Am turned towards his son.

“It’s lucky for you that she is not dead.”

For some strange reason, Ry’Ker found himself advising the rebellious man being addressed.
Don’t provoke him.
 

And what do I get from that?

You get to be the better man.
 

There was a strange, uncomfortable silence and then he got an answer.
You seem to have forgotten, Guard. I am not a man.
 

“And why is that, Father? It seems that, as the Empress’s puppet, you should have known that she wasn’t out to
kill
the women.”
 

It was the first time Ry’Ker had heard Si’Bastian refer to Li’Am as his father, and he knew by the way the other man reacted that he was not happy he’d done so—especially in front of his head guard.

“So, if you can’t use that as an excuse to lock me back up, how about the fact that Seraphine now knows of me?”

Ry’Ker willed the sensualeer to shut his mouth, but he continued.

“Then again…you’ve never required an excuse other than my being born. So, why bother with the threat? Unless, this time, you mean to have me beaten? Tortured? Killed perhaps?”

Li’Am walked down the steps that led to where they were both standing and stopped in front of his son. “Do you think that you’re amusing anyone in this room, Si’Bastian?”

“No, just myself. As always.”

Shut up,
Ry’Ker thought, hoping he would listen.

You shut it, Guard. This isn’t your business.

Ry’Ker squared his shoulders and wanted to tell the man that he was a horse’s ass. But since Li’Am didn’t know that Ry’Ker was saying
anything
, he took his own advice and shut both his mouth—and his mind.

Li’Am was standing so close to his son that their toes almost touched, and Ry’Ker wondered if he would be so brave if he knew that his son had the power to…
What? Hurt him? Kill him?

“I’m disappointed, Si’Bastian.”

A scoffing laugh preceded, “I couldn’t tell.”

Ry’Ker found that he was no longer admiring Li’Am’s bravery, but his patience.

“We needed the women alive and healthy. That was the plan. That’s why
you
were sent—to shield them. The four women are the only ones who can wield the keys to the Tower. She wants who is in there. I want it to restore the Twelve Lakes, the water supply that she cursed. We needed them
un
infected. We needed them well. But due to your reckless actions, you’ve put the people and the land in even more danger than they were before.”

Ry’Ker swallowed and hoped that was the end of it. He should have known better.

“Maybe, if you had deemed me worthy enough to know this in advance, I would’ve done things differently, father.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Everyone knows that your kind has no sense of control. Why do you think we all kowtow to the Empress? Certainly not because she is loved. Who could love such people?”

The cruelty of the response shocked Ry’Ker. He’d never thought he’d witness this side of the man who’d practically raised him. But as he stood there, he couldn’t deny what he was hearing.

“The problem with your kind is that, while you are given power we don’t fully understand, you’re also born with colossal egos. Ones that need constant stroking. Ones that require praise and admiration and make you think you can have anything you desire. You have the ability to lure us in, draw from our emotions and fears…yet the second you are doubted, you spin out of control and somehow manage to cock up everything around you.”

As Li’Am’s hateful words bounced off the stone walls, his son remained silent.
 

He knew all about family conflict. Hell, he hadn’t seen his own brother for years until a couple of days ago, and before that… Mala’Kai had made it easy to disown him. But this familial discord wasn’t his, and he didn’t feel right about being there.

He was about to open his mouth and ask to be excused when Li’Am turned towards him.

“Ry’Ker.”

Raising his eyes, he replied respectfully, “Yes, Commander?”

“I told you to watch him.”

Bastian’s sneer entered his head,
Well, that explains a lot.

Ry’Ker would be damned if he would feel guilty for following orders. That was his job. But he still had a niggling of that emotion gnawing in his gut.
 

What does it explain?

Si’Bastian finally turned his head towards him, and his eyes gleamed a shiny black.
Your sudden tolerance of what you hate the most. I should have known. There’s always a puppet doing the master’s dirty work.
 

That stung, and Ry’Ker actually winced as Bastian’s final thought was muttered through his mind.
 

I should know.

* * *

A low crackling sound filtered into Naeve’s thoughts as her eyes slowly opened. She was lying in the center of a soft, narrow bed. The end of which had a curled iron frame, and just behind that, across the room, was a flickering fire—the only light source in the small space. Though still in her sundress, she noticed that her jacket and boots had been removed, her feet now completely bare.