Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1) (6 page)

Layna fought hard to control the laughter
that threatened to emerge. He turned his twinkling eyes towards her
and winked again before whisking himself out of the room. Layna
stole a glance at Jezebel, and could tell that the woman was raging
underneath her cool exterior.

A chill ran down Layna's spine, all thoughts
of laughter disappearing.

“That man is unruly; I really don't know why
I keep him around,” Jezebel said icily into the silence that
followed Gryffon's exit.

Renee was still watching the door that
Gryffon had left through. “He's quite a good looking man though,
Jezebel, just that factor alone is pretty compelling.”

Jezebel relaxed somewhat and laughed, but
Layna could almost see the storm still roiling beneath her
carefully controlled expression. “There is that,” she conceded.
“There is that.”

The rest of the visit went somewhat normally,
with idle chit-chat and only a few nasty comments directed at Layna
for her inability to read their minds when they wanted more of
something. Much of their complaints consisted of how Gryffon wasn't
doing enough of what Jezebel wanted him to or not fast enough. How
life in general simply wasn't fair. She complained to Renee that
even though she was the most undeserving of bad things and always
trying to help other people, things just kept popping up at
her.

Like this woman Jezebel had come to the house
a few times. Jezebel had lent her money to pay for one of her sons
to have his talent trained –
wasn’t that so very nice of me,
Renee?
- and then she’d had the audacity to get sick and die on
her before Jezebel was repaid. What she conveniently forgot to
mention was that it was Jezebel's father who had actually lent the
money, and he had only done it because he thought that the woman's
family would feel obligated to back him in a coming vote in the
merchant guildhall.
Not to mention she’s mad at her for
dying…

Jezebel also kept hinting – not so subtly,
though Renee did not seem to be picking up on it – that she had
something exciting in the works. Something that she wasn’t about to
tell Renee about but obviously wanted her to know she wasn’t being
told. Unfortunately for Jezebel, Renee was apparently too dull to
pick up on it, and Layna could tell that Jezebel’s patience for her
was waning as her more and more obvious comments continued to go
unnoticed.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of
listening to Jezebel complain about her life to an eager-to-please
Renee, Jezebel announced that she was tired and needed to get some
rest before dinner. Renee almost immediately sprang out of her
chair to comply with Jezebel's request and quickly showed herself
out. When Renee had gone, Jezebel turned to Layna. “I'm going out
for a while. When I come back, I expect that all your normal chores
will be done. You've done quite enough idling about for one
day.”

Layna felt another chill at the look Jezebel
gave her and she curtsied deeply, holding the position until
Jezebel had stalked off. Fear crept into her and she wondered if
perhaps Gryffon had done her an injustice by his comment. She could
hear Jezebel screaming for Devon down the hallway, and by the
sounds of it she was already working herself into a frenzy over his
delay in answering.

CHAPTER 4

“Devon!” Jezebel growled at the man as he
hurried up to her from outside. “I have been calling you for the
longest time.”

Devon bowed deeply. “My apologies, my lady,
but I come from the temple and hope that some good news might
brighten your demeanor?”

Jezebel wasn't in the mood to be told she was
in a bad one, but the prospect of news and what it most likely was
concerning was tantalizing. She ushered him back inside the
library.

The little strumpet girl was clearing away
the last of the remains from Renee's visit. Jezebel glared at her
until she gathered up the last of the dishes and closed the door
behind her. She waited until the footsteps faded before turning to
Devon. “Well? What is it?”

“After our little chat the other night with
the brother, I took it upon myself to find out what these
officiators of the event might be expecting of you at this ceremony
you've been invited to.”

Jezebel sat forward in her chair excitedly.
“And?”

“And, I can tell you that you'll be told
about the society that you are joining, how it is designed to
benefit the greater good of mankind and can help each of its
individual members in exchange for complete secrecy and
obedience.”

Jezebel waved a hand impatiently, “Yes, yes,
yes. I know all that, but what am I supposed to do?”

Devon nodded his head once and grinned,
sharing her excitement. “They'll read you the list of rules which
you will swear an oath to uphold. My source was sketchy as to the
details, but mainly they revolve around keeping it secret and
carrying out orders that you'll be given. All you'll have to do is
swear to it.”

“As long as they don't mind me adding my own
twist to their orders,” Jezebel sneered.

Devon hesitated, and Jezebel thought she saw
a flicker of concern flash across his features. “I have no doubt
that you can handle yourself, my lady,” he said carefully, “but do
remember that these are not scheming merchants that we are dealing
with. These people are dangerous.”

Jezebel felt a stab of annoyance, but
suppressed it. “Of course I will. Now, what else did you
learn?”

Devon was silent for another second. Jezebel
was about ready to snap at him that she could take care of herself
when he continued. “Next, you'll be asked to share your deepest
secret in front of their witnesses. The purpose for this seems to
be so that they gain a certain level of control over you by playing
on your guilt.”

“As if anything I might tell them would
seriously give them the upper hand,” Jezebel scoffed. Devon had
that look again so she sighed and made another impatient motion for
him to go on.

“Finally, they will ask you a question, and
this is the most important step.” Jezebel drew her eyebrows
together, waiting for him to elaborate. “Now the correct answer to
this question was tricky to find out. They'll ask you if you will
denounce the rule of the King to show your obedience to them. My
source indicated that if you refuse to do so, they commend you for
your loyalty. Interestingly though, these candidates are still
accepted but they never rise any higher in the ranks of the Order.
If, however, you denounce the King, they believe that it shows that
you will be loyal to them above all else. They see this response as
a sign of intelligence, that you possess enough knowledge to
understand that the greater good of humanity doesn't always
correspond with the whims of the King. The people who give this
response often find themselves with invitations to additional
ceremonies and consequently move to higher levels within the
Order.”

Jezebel sat back in her chair and lifted a
hand to her chin, letting it all sink in. Devon waited patiently
for her to respond. “This source of yours, how reliable is he and
how likely is it that those at the ceremony would that know I have
this information?”

Devon gave her one of his sadistic smiles.
“My source is quite knowledgeable, and conveniently, he does not
have any clue that he talked to me at all.”

Jezebel smiled, vaguely wondering at Devon's
methods of obtaining the information, but was more concerned with
the information itself. “Excellent. And the man we chatted with
last night?”

“Taken care of, my lady. The pigs had a
rather large breakfast this morning.” He laughed at his own
personal joke, and Jezebel raised an eyebrow in amusement.
Sometimes his callousness amazed even her. “I would like to warn
you as well, my lady, that although it was never mentioned
outright, I suspect that there is some sort of magical binding in
addition to any oaths they have you swear to, so be prepared.”

“I'll do that,” Jezebel answered, only mildly
surprised at this insight. It should be expected from any society
such as this that they would take measures to ensure obedience and
loyalty. She had no doubt her own magical power would withstand any
invasion of will that they could muster against her, however, so
she was not overly concerned with this possibility. When she had
done her training with the Priesthood, she had suspected that they
had tried to put a binding on her, but even only partially trained
she had been able to keep them from containing her powers. She
didn’t see why the Order would be any more difficult to
withstand.

“I must admit that the society is extremely
well formed and we were unable to discern the inner workings. My
best agents can only make educated guesses at this point as to its
real intent. Each level seems to believe in a different ultimate
goal which disguises whatever the real purpose is. So again, I
caution you.”

Jezebel digested this piece of information.
Admitting any sort of failure to her was no small danger, as Devon
well knew - though she did give him more leeway than the others.
This society must be impressive indeed.
Which just makes it all
the more useful to me,
she reminded herself. She soon fell into
thought and dismissed Devon with a wave of her hand, telling him to
send in someone with wine as he left.

She stood by the window, staring out into the
growing darkness when the servant came with the wine. He poured it
for her, and left it on the table next to the window before
retreating. She hardly noticed his departure as she paced the room.
What sort of story shall I put together as my shameful
secret?
She considered. It had to be something that they would
think gave them leverage over her. She wondered what kinds of
stories they must hear and hoped that she would get to hear others
once she was inducted. No doubt that would prove amusing.

Her pacing led her back to the window and she
reached for the wine. A cold breeze blew over her hand as she
wrapped her fingers around the glass, and she looked over her
shoulder to scold the servant for having left the window unlocked.
Wasting money because of stupidity.
Unfortunately, he was
already gone. She clicked the lock back into place so that it
wouldn't be opened again by the wind, grumbling.
Must I do
everything myself around here?
She took a seat and cradled the
wine.

Jezebel spent the next half hour perfecting
her lie, going over every possibility and deciding which emotions
would best fit with it. When she was satisfied that she had a
believable story, she swallowed the last of her wine and went to
find a servant to get her dressed and perhaps practice bits of the
story on. She stood, momentarily dizzy, and thought absently to
herself,
perhaps I should not have had quite so much
wine
.

*

Jonathan was careful not to be seen as he
exited Jezebel's estate and made his way down the deserted drive
towards the city. It was another hour before Jezebel was expected
to arrive at the location that had been given to her, but he wanted
to make sure all was ready so that Master would be pleased. Master
had gone to great lengths to get him what he had requested, and
Jonathan was determined to repay the favor in full. The drug he had
just slipped into Jezebel's wine would make her much more pliable
for Master to work with. Jonathan was unsure as to why Master had
taken an interest in this particular talent personally, but if
Master wanted him to watch her, that’s what Jonathan was going to
do.

The sun was just setting, but people were
already starting to clear out of the streets and Jonathan flitted
through the shadows unnoticed. He carefully glanced around and
ducked into a back alleyway to knock on a door there. A peephole
window slid open and an eye stared at him expectantly. He made the
sign; holding his fist in front of his mouth, while drawing back
his sleeve to expose the emblem of the eye burned into the flesh of
his forearm. The peephole clicked shut, and a moment later the door
swung open. Jonathan hurried inside. He asked for the master and
was ushered farther into the building, where an altar had been
erected for Nuko.

As he entered, he saw that before it knelt
the man that he wanted to see. Jonathan took a seat on the bench in
the back of the temple, waiting for Master to acknowledge his
presence and call him forward.

His eyes wandered around the room and came to
rest upon an open tome that was balanced on the top of a pedestal,
illuminated by the fires above. Within its pages, Jonathan knew
that it told the true history, not the watered-down version that
was commonly known. It was with pride that he had recently had the
privilege of committing those pages to memory. His latest
advancement within the Order had revealed much to him and he felt
more conviction for their purpose than ever before.

The tome told how during the age of the Dark
King, fear and bloodshed had filled the world as the Dark King rose
in power and started the Massacre. Under his rule, the world was
stripped of the unworthy as one by one he sent them to his death
camps for slaughter. It became a time of blood-magic where those
who were privy to its use were god-like in their power. The regular
history books condemned him for these actions, but those in the
Order knew that his cleansing had been important for the impending
return of the true god, Nuko. The world must be prepared, and only
the worthy would survive when His time came.

The Dark King had been on the right path for
Nuko's reawakening, but had fallen prey to human temptations. He
had been crazed by his own power, convinced that he was the god
himself, and that madness had proved to be his downfall. He started
sending powerful mages – who he convinced himself would oppose him
– along with the unworthy to the camps, and in his paranoia ended
up depleting the world’s stock of talents rather than building it
up in preparation for the reawakening.