The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4 The Blessed Curse (28 page)

The Darklands

Seth sat down wearily at the table and stared
at the unconscious girl on his bed. She was little more than skin
stretched over bones. It was a state of starvation that was far
past anything he’d seen other Undrae able to control. Typically the
creatures siphoned from anything that got near them when they were
hungry, yet somehow Zoelyn had managed to limit her power to touch
alone. It was remarkable, really. In her current state, she
shouldn’t have had the willpower to resist draining.

He knew he could get her in good condition
before she woke, but it would require regaining some of his own
power, first. That was the part he was dreading. It would be simple
if Finn would simply grant him a soul as Death had done so often.
One single spirit and he would be spared the torment of regaining
his power the other way, but Finn didn’t seem to understand, and he
wasn’t allowed to ask.

Frustration welled in his chest and Seth rose
abruptly from the chair. His eyes lingered on the room for a long
moment before he forced himself to accept the truth. If he wanted
power, he had to serve penance. He had motivation for it now,
though. There was an Undrae in existence. That meant someone knew
the only spell to bring a soul back that Death had no way of
stopping. With the proper sacrifice, he could live again, and there
was nothing Finn could do to stop it. All he had to do was figure
out who created the girl. With a deep sigh, Seth gave Zoelyn a
final glance and headed out of the room toward his own personal
hell.

Everyone who sinned had penance to serve in
the Darklands. That was simply how it was. His, however, was
different from most. Death had fine-tuned his penance to
excruciating levels and then forced it to be his choice. He didn’t
have to face the pain he was walking to, unless he wanted power. He
could ignore it for years, but then, he wouldn’t have the strength
to travel to the sunlit world, or to hold his status among the
creatures of the Darklands, for that matter. Death had created the
room as one option, the other had been to do as she wished and she
would reward him with souls. Now she was dead, though, and Finn was
clueless, so his only choice was the room.

Seth rubbed his face and stared hard at the
door before him. Ravens had been carved into the black wood with
such detail that they seemed ready to take flight. A knot coiled in
his stomach as he pressed his palm against the door. A pale glow
illuminated the seams for a breath and the door slowly swung open.
The interior was black as pitch, and not even his eyes could pierce
the shadows inside. He entered without hesitation, though. He knew
nothing was waiting inside for him. The only other creature in the
Darklands that could open this room was Death itself, and Finn had
not yet learned that this room existed.

He could feel the magic of the room coil
around him as soon as the door closed behind him. It pulled at him
like a neglected child demanding his attention. With a low growl,
Seth pushed it back, and tried to organize his thoughts. The magic
in this room held every moment of his life that had led him to
where he was now. As Death had explained it, the more he suffered,
the more strength he regained. He typically spent days in this room
when he served penance, slowly building his power back with the
short memories that were least painful to remember. He didn’t have
time for that now, though, so he really only had one option:
Dashara. The knot in his stomach grew tighter as he focused his
mind on her. The room began to fade around him as the room’s magic
seized his focus. Walls fell way, leaving trees and green fields
around him as the magic fully immersed him in a pain he never
thought he would face again.

His horse pranced nervously beneath him and
Seth stiffened in the saddle. His gaze swept over the surrounding
forest and then to the small house. As far as he could tell,
nothing was out of place. Everything looked just as it always did.
His eyes swept over the yard once more, counting the scattered hens
before moving to the stable yard. Dashara’s small sorrel mare stood
in the paddock, eating peacefully.

“
I think you are getting as paranoid as I
am, Crow,” Seth murmured as he ran a hand down his black’s neck. It
would stand to reason that the horse would be paranoid, he
supposed. The gelding had been through every battle Seth had
fought, not to mention the quieter missions in the dead of night
that Dashara didn’t know about. Pushing the thoughts back, Seth
pressed his heels lightly into Crow’s sides, urging the gelding
forward once more. The horse snorted loudly and tossed his head
before breaking into a quick trot. “Not sure what has gotten into
you, but you can sort through it in the stall,” Seth grumbled as
they neared the stable door.

He glanced toward the house as he dropped
from the saddle. Dominic usually ran out to greet him when he
returned home. The door was still shut, though, with no sign of his
son anywhere. With a frown Seth grabbed the reins and led his horse
toward the stable. Crow gave another loud snort as Seth pulled the
door open. The gelding danced back, his eyes rolling, pulling the
reins free of Seth’s hand as he whirled and ran.

With a muffled curse, Seth dropped flat
against the barn wall, one hand on his dagger. He hadn’t seen
anything inside, and all of the animals in the barnyard were
behaving normally, but Crow had bolted. Crow never bolted.

“
Smart horse you have there, Seth,” a
man’s voice called from inside. It was low and calm with no trace
of the Avanti accent.

“
Who are you and what the bloody hell are
you doing in my barn,” Seth growled back as he raised his dagger
before him and tilted the blade toward the open door. The light
caught the polished metal and for a moment it served as a mirror
into the barn. He caught a glimpse of a figure moving to the left
of the doorway and readied himself to attack.

“
You might want to reconsider throwing
that dagger. You might accidently hit Dominic here. You don’t want
to do that, do you, Seth?”

The voice paused and took on a sweeter note.
“Tell your daddy not to hurt you, Dominic. That would be wrong,
wouldn’t it?”

“
Daddy, please don’t.” Dominic’s childish
voice was louder than the stranger’s, with a note of pleading in it
that sent shards of pain through Seth’s chest.

“
Where is mommy, Dominic?” Seth called
carefully, trying to keep the desperation from his words.

“
Dashara is inside waiting for you, Seth.
We just have to settle a few things first,” the man replied calmly.
“Toss that dagger on the ground and step around the wall. I have a
game for you Seth. I know you must love games. You would have to
after all of the time you have spent playing hide and go seek with
High Lord Avanti.”

“
Who are you?” Seth demanded as he obeyed
the man’s order and tossed the dagger to the grass. It hardly
mattered; he had plenty more to use. He never carried just one
weapon.

“
I’m wounded, Seth. Do you really not know
who I am?” Mockery laced the man’s every word and Seth prayed there
would be a way to land a dagger without risking Dominic.

Muscles tensed, he pushed off the wall and
stepped inside the barn quickly. The man stood just inside, leaning
against Crow’s stall with one leg balanced on the wall. Dominic sat
on his upraised leg while the stranger’s arm supported him and held
him firmly in place. He couldn’t tell much about the man beyond his
basic build. The long gray cloak he wore covered every detail that
Seth could have used to identify him.

“
I have no idea who you are, but it was a
remarkably bad idea to use my son against me,” Seth replied in a
low voice that would have sent most running. Everyone on Sanctuary
knew him, and most had known of him before Sanctuary even existed.
This man had to either be a complete fool or a clueless pup to prod
him in his own home.

“
Tsk, Tsk. You of all people should know
me. We are the topic of enough gossip you know. Everyone is always
speculating which of us is better…” The man’s voice trailed off and
Seth could feel pleasure radiating from him. “Time to give them all
the answer, Seth. Let’s decide here and now who is the better
Assassin, you or me.”

“
Hemlock,” Seth breathed as panic welled
in his chest. It wasn’t that he was scared of the man in a fight,
it was the fear of what the man had already had time to do. Dashara
could be dead already.

“
Good, now that you have that figured out,
we can move on to the important things,” Hemlock began. “How did
you find me?” Seth demanded before Hemlock had a chance to continue
his torment.

“
You went on a rescue mission today and it
was a complete success. Did it seem just a bit too easy, Seth?”
Hemlock asked in a mocking voice. “It should have. I gave very
strict orders to allow you free reign while I located your horse.
Funny thing, the bastard must have recognized my scent when you got
here. Maybe he was feeling guilty and that’s why he ran,” Hemlock
mused.

“
What?” Seth asked in utter confusion.
Hemlock was right the mission had been far too simple and it had
been eating at him for most of the ride home.

Hemlock sighed dramatically and tilted his
head upward as if beseeching the gods for patience. “I could have
had you today, Seth. I was right there the entire time. That wasn’t
the deal, though. The High Lord wanted Dashara and your bastards as
well. So I had to make this a family affair.” Hemlock paused and
shrugged one shoulder as if in a halfhearted apology. “See, you
have been a royal pain in the ass for House Avanti, but the real
trouble maker is Dashara. He wants her dead and he wants you to
suffer. Yet, he has tried for four years to make that happen and
keeps failing. So he hired me, and here we are.” Hemlock raised one
hand and waved it lightly between the two of them. “You fucked up,
Seth. You always ride the same horse, and it’s a rather nice one at
that, very easy to find. Every peasant for three hundred miles
knows the Crow King’s horse, and there aren’t many Veir bred mounts
in Avanti. I think Crow may be the only one, and he is a smart one,
just like everyone says the Veir horses are. He remembered the way
home perfectly. All it took was a quick mind scan to solve the
mystery of where you hide. So, thanks to your horse, and thank you
as well, Seth. Without your favoritism, I wouldn’t have found you
nearly this easily.”

Seth swallowed hard and bit back the sharp
words he wanted to use. “Is Dashara dead?” he asked in the calmest
voice he could manage. Hemlock laughed and pushed off the wall as
he lifted Dominic into his arms and cradled the child against him.
Seth’s eyes flicked to his son’s face and the look of terror that
he wore. The child was only four and Seth doubted he even knew what
was going on. He wanted to offer him reassurances, but he had never
lied to his son before, and he wouldn’t start now.

“
You know, I never guessed you to be a
family man, Seth. This should be fun,” Hemlock said with a chuckle.
He bounced Dominic against his hip and smiled down at the boy.
“Your Daddy is in an awful lot of trouble, young man. Let this all
be a lesson to you for the future. Violence begets
violence.”

“
Is Dashara dead?” Seth demanded, his
words cracking through the empty stable with enough force to make
Dominic jump.

“
Tsk, Tsk, Seth. You scared him.” Hemlock
shook his head in disapproval and then laughed again. “Dashara is
still very much alive. She is waiting for you, in fact. Of course I
need to explain the rules to you. Dominic already knows them. See
how quiet he is being and so well behaved.”

Seth’s hand clenched at his side and it was
all he could do to keep from throwing a dagger. Had it been someone
else he would have, but Hemlock had a reputation as good as his
own. It was possible the man could dodge the knife and then Dominic
would suffer for it.

“
Ahh. I can see the desire to kill me so
clearly, Seth. Pity you aren’t strong enough to act on it. I’d like
to know which of us would win in a fair fight. Avanti doesn’t want
fair, though, he wants suffering. So here we go. Dashara is as good
as dead, but you have a chance to save your children and maybe even
yourself. The High Lord values your talents, but your loyalty is
somewhat lacking.” Hemlock paused and traced a gloved finger down
Dominic’s face. “Such a good boy, and his life is entirely in your
hands, Seth. The key is your good behavior. We are going to go
inside shortly and you are going to stand right beside me with
every one of your weapons. I won’t even take your sword. You,
however, are not allowed to move a muscle once we are inside. No
talking, no twitching of fingers, and no tears. I have a bet that
you won’t be able to do it, but Uindraely says you can. She seems
to think you are made of iron, but personally, after watching your
anger and panic in the past few minutes, I think she is
wrong.”

“
Less taunting, more explaining, please,”
Seth growled. This was not going in a good direction at all, but if
he had his weapons, he had hope. Even if it was slim hope, it was
better than nothing.

“
Fine. You move. I cut the child. You
talk. I cut the child. You cry… Well, you get the picture. You
fight, though. You fight, and I don’t just hurt him, Seth. I gut
the little bastard and let him die a slow death at your feet.
Understood?” Hemlock’s voice had grown low and Dominic whimpered
faintly at his words. “Now, now, Dominic, we discussed this. You
cry or scream and your little sister gets hurt, remember?”
Hemlock’s voice grew gentle once more as he chided the boy and
Dominic abruptly grew silent. “Manage to behave as Lord Avanti
wants, and your children live, Seth.”