The Bonds of Blood (8 page)

As the four of them crossed the lawn,
the smell of cooked bison, pork, and fowl greeted their noses,
making their stomachs growl. The game roasted on spits over a
smoldering fire above the large pit, and the sight of the browning
meat watered their mouths.

Just as they joined the crowd of
bystanders, a whistle pierced the air.

“What was that noise?” Jovian asked,
running ahead of the girls, his undone jacket flapping in the
breeze.

“That,” Dauin said, pointing upward,
and they all looked up in time to hear another whistling sound,
then a bright green flash streak against the early evening sky,
followed by a thunderous boom.

“Fireworks,” they whispered excitedly
to each other.

The four of them never made it back in
for Amber’s tea, but the wine volunteered to ease her pains and
lighten her mood.

The few neighbors that had already
arrived started what at first was a trickle of guests, which turned
into a flood as dozens of neighbors congregated in the
field.

They were lucky enough to catch Heather
Ann, one of their favorite neighbors, as she arrived. It wasn’t
often that they got to see her, and sometimes that was a blessing.
They loved the elderly lady to death, but her constant and
obnoxious stories were enough to make the four of them go crazy if
not listened to in moderation.

As Jovian, Amber, Angelica and Joya
were served their food, and the guests lined up to get their
plates, a slight wind began to blow. The wind chilled Amber to her
core, and she turned away from it firmly, her back to the
breeze.

“How do you feel?” Joya asked her, as
she was the one beside her.

Amber shrugged, and with a smile lifted
her chalice of dandelion wine. Joya smiled in response, and she too
lifted her glass to take a drink.

After the dishes had been cleared away,
a traveling troop of musicians started tuning their instruments as
the tables and tent were cleared away. It was during this awkward
time that the five youths (including Alhamar) made their way around
the groupings of people to talk to others more
intimately.

It was about halfway through the group
when they came upon Grace and a tall slender redhead. They smiled
politely, and the older lady with Grace smiled back.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly, and they
all nodded. “My name is Rosalee,” the woman with the graying red
hair stated as the five of them tried to politely disengage from
the two old women.

“Hello, Rosalee,” Jovian said on behalf
of his silent counterparts. “I am Jovian Neferis, and these are my
three sisters: Amber, Joya, and Angelica. This dark-haired
gentleman here is my soon to be brother-in-law Alhamar
Morris.”

Rosalee gave a slight, sideways nod
with her head, and smiled sweetly at them all. “It is a pleasure to
meet you.” Her voice, now that they listened to it more closely,
had a distant, vacant sound to it, as if Rosalee’s mind was not
completely one with her body. There was a slight paleness to her
green eyes, and there was no doubt among any of the five of them
that Rosalee’s eyes had once been a beautiful emerald green, but
they were now more like a light mossy color. “Are these the four,
Grace?” Rosalee asked the shorter, heavier woman beside her. Grace
frowned slightly at her taller friend.

“This would be them,” Grace croaked,
looking darkly at the tall woman, but Rosalee—fingering the stem of
her silver goblet—paid no mind to the other woman.

“So beautiful they are,” Rosalee said,
nearing Angelica and reaching out a hand to caress her
face.

“Excuse me, madam,” Angelica said with
a nervous laugh as she backed away.

“Rosalee!” Grace said sharply, grabbing
the other woman by the arm, “I think it is time we let them go
about their business; the music is about to start.”

Rosalee smiled meekly. “Yes, of course,
can’t be touching the children, not polite.”

Grace pushed her friend off into the
crowd and glanced back to the five of them. “I am sorry, she
doesn’t normally act like this,” the old lady lied, “it must be all
the wine she had.”

As the two old ladies disappeared into
the crowd, the five of them looked to each other and broke into
hearty laughter. They continued walking around the crowd,
exchanging words, when the music finally started up.

As it was customary for the honored
people to lead the dance, the four Neferis youths stepped out into
the now cleared field. As there was only one man for the three
women, Joya and Amber danced together, Amber taking the lead with
an amused smile.

“You always were the more manly one,
Amber,” Joya teased as they started their dancing. Most of the
dance was filled with laughter and joking, and then finally the
field was swarmed with the rest of the guests.

“Angelica,” Jovian said, “there is a
tall man over there watching us rather intently.” Angelica could
hear the smile in his words. “I think he has taken a fancy to
you.”

“Where?” Angelica asked, looking
around.

“Over there, behind that strange woman
Rosalee; he is tall with dark hair.”

“Oh yes, I see him now. He is rather
nice on the eyes, isn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t know, Angie; is
he?”

Indeed he was. The man was tall and
nicely built, with long dark hair that fell in silky strands to the
middle of his back. He was too far away for Angelica to make out
any specific description, but she could tell that he was one of the
most attractive men that she had ever seen. The sharp nose, chin,
and high cheekbones spoke of a native of the Realm of Earth, and
his darkly tanned skin only confirmed that suspicion.

“Yes, Jove, I think he is very nice.”
Angelica smiled at the man.

“Awe, you have made him nervous,
Angie.” Jovian joked.

The rest of the dance went by in
relative silence. When the music finally died down, Jovian broke
away from the crowd.

Jovian was on his second glass of wine
when he turned to see three shapes on the far edge of the field.
Time with the old lady told Jovian that the short, squat form was
Grace, while the other two were very strange looking to
him.

One shape looked like a ghostly white
owl, but at the same time it was slightly larger than most owls. It
was so white that Jovian at first wondered if maybe it wasn’t a
figment of his imagination, like the full moon shinning off
something on the ground, but just as he was thinking that, the
creature turned its head in his direction, and Jovian had a strange
feeling that the owl was looking straight into him. His skin
crawled and a tingle ran up his spine, causing goose bumps to dance
over his skin.

He broke his gaze from the owl to the
other creature beside Grace. Its back was to Jovian, much like the
owl’s had been, but the shape and color of the beast was what
shocked him most. Jovian had to look closer to make sure he was
seeing it right.

“Dear Goddess,” Jovian said, leaning
heavily against the wine table. The other creature was large and
black like death. For a brief moment Jovian remembered the noxious
green glowing of the eyes of the creature Angelica insisted on
calling a Black Shuck. He shook his head a little and closed his
eyes tightly, but when he opened them again the large dog was still
there beside Grace.

Jovian felt a pain in his leg, the same
one that had been broken, and he gasped, reaching down and grabbing
his calf. He turned quickly to rejoin Angelica, but when he tried
to put pressure on his leg, he started to fall. It felt like his
leg was broken all over again. Before he reached the ground, strong
hands grasped him by the shoulders, helping him to stand
again.

“You must be Jovian Neferis,” a deep
voice said behind him, and Jovian turned to see the tall
dark-haired man that had been standing with Rosalee.

“Yes … huh?” Jovian said extremely
confused. His leg didn’t hurt any longer, and when he looked back
to where Grace had been with the two creatures, he saw only Grace’s
squat form and the tall, slender figure of Rosalee approaching
her.

Jovian turned back to the tall man, and
a strange look came over his face. “Who are you?” Jovian said, a
little more offensively than he had meant to.

“I am Maeven Beggets,” he said, bowing
slightly. Jovian felt small compared to this man. Maeven’s frame
was only slightly larger than Jovian’s, but he was a good head
taller. When Maeven straightened, his dark brown eyes chilled
Jovian, drawing a shudder from him.

“I am sorry; this whole night has been
strange,” Jovian explained, backing away from the man. “It is
nothing against you, but recent events and recent strangers have
really put me on edge.” Jovian stepped away from Maeven again, and
the taller man only nodded.

“I understand; my aunt can be very hard
to get used to.” Maeven smiled apologetically, and Jovian offered a
tight grin in answer.

“Yes, her desire to caress my sister
really started off the whole night on the wrong foot.”

“She is a bit absentminded … eccentric,
if you will.”

“Yes, I could tell.” Jovian’s gaze
followed that of the older boy, watching as the two ladies engaged
conversation, punctuated by Rosalee’s erratic gesturing.

There was an awkward silence, and when
Maeven peered back at him, Jovian took it as a cue to cut the
conversation short.

“I am going to head back and rejoin my
sisters if you don’t mind,” Jovian said, pointing over his shoulder
with his thumb.

“By all means, and have a great
birthday.” As Jovian turned to head back to his sisters, Maeven
walked off in the direction of the two old ladies.

The voice returned, waking Joya in the
middle of the night. For a moment she lay in bed staring up at the
ceiling, thinking that the voice must have been left over from a
drink-induced sleep.

Sighing, Joya watched the violent wind,
which blew in during their party, toss shadowed limbs on the
ceiling in Chaotic fashion that completely entranced
her.

As Joya reflected on the voice that had
plagued her nightly visions, she tried to remember what it had
said, but her memory of the voice failed her; she could only
remember what it sounded like.

The tone of the voice was caring, yet
severe, as if scolding. It was gentle, yet wicked. Wicked was
really the only way that Joya could describe the sound of the
voice. While some people had musical voices or rough voices, this
voice had been neither. The closest thing she could think of to
describe it was the squeaking of a hinge in desperate need of
oiling.

Joya giggled a little when she compared
the voice to the description people gave of an old hag’s
voice.

Amused now, Joya rolled over and shut
her eyes.

She was just drifting off
when the voice came again:
Joya
, it creaked.
Joya Neferis, come to me, come closer.

By now Joya’s eyes popped wide open and
all thoughts of sleep were scattered to the Quarters. Her breath
was shallow and fast, just as her heart beat was thunderous and
rapid.

Joya, I know you are
awake
, the voice called.
I can sense your consciousness. You are telling
yourself not to be afraid, and you are also lying to yourself.
This, dear child, is not a dream, and I am most certainly not a
trick of your mind.

“Wh-who are you?” Joya stammered,
closing her eyes tight and feebly trying to think of any prayer she
could. Her mind a blank, Joya regretted not being more in touch
with her spiritual side.

You know me; at least, you
have seen me before.

“When? Today?”

Oh yes, today you touched
me. I like being close to you, I like being touched.

Joya was scared now. She had heard of
many people that could invade another’s mind, and she had touched
many people today. What if it was strange old man Miller? What if
he was in her thoughts, intimately knowing her darkest secrets, her
most scandalous desires. She shut out her mind trying to think of
something other than secrets and desires.