Chapter 25
Something sharp and cold slid down one side of Kyren's face, leaving a hot streak of pain behind. He flinched back, awareness returning in an agonizing instant, his memory of what had happened far too distressingly clear.
Blood or sweat--he did not dare open his eyes to find out--stung his eyes and trickled down his cheeks.
"Open your eyes," Magdalen said, her voice both cold and kind.
Another sharp streak of pain joined the first, and Kyren cried out, struggling to escape her ministrations, but his arms were bound and numb, and so were his legs.
He opened his eyes and Magdalen retreated, towering over him like some sort of mythical monster sent to kill him.
"So good of you to join us," she said. "But I certainly did not expect to see you here."
"What did you do?" A flash of light sparked in Kyren's eyes--the reflection of sunlight off windows that had not been whole in many years. The floor underneath his body shone as if it had been newly waxed, and the softness of the rug under his face only heightened his confusion. "How is this possible?"
"It is a difficult spell," Magdalen allowed, and stepped away as another figure took her spot. Stefan. Magdalen's Hound.
Would he be torn limb from limb, then?
"But not one I could not manage," Magdalen continued. "Take our guest to the basement, I think. I'll decide what to do with him later."
"Magdalen, you can't--" Kyren gasped when Stefan lifted him--by the ropes that bound his arms, wresting them backwards with another jolt of pain.
"I can do what I wish," Magdalen said.
He saw, over her shoulder, a blonde woman staring at them, a familiar sneer on her lips. For a moment, Kyren didn't recognize her. After all, he hadn't seen Althea in years, especially after he lost sight of Magdalen's desires.
"Wait," she said, and pushed past Magdalen. "Where were you going with that--that girl?"
"That girl is my Cousin Amalea, and third in line to the throne," Kyren said, struggling to keep his fear from his voice. "You could have had a better prisoner than me."
Magdalen's hand whipped out, and her fingernails raked the side of his face, narrowly missing his eye. "Answer her question!"
Kyren shivered at the venom in her tone of voice. But he could not tell them the truth--if they discovered Josiah was still alive-- Althea couldn't use her cursed spell, of course, but Magdalen might still have sympathizers in the castle who would be more than willing to try to get past Amalea's wards to murder Josiah.
But his mind refused to disgorge a possible explanation for their presence in the forest.
"Kill me," he whispered, struggling to speak over the throbbing pain. He tasted blood--of course--but did not dare to spit it out. "Amalea knows what you've done, and so does her grandmother. It's over. You will not win." Despite his fear, he kept speaking, staring at Althea, whose face was frozen now, as if she couldn't quite believe his words. "You've lost."
"You--" He hardly recognized Althea's voice. "You--dared--"
"Althea, see to your preparations," Magdalen snapped. "Your quarry will be here soon."
Quarry? What quarry?
"But if they know--" Althea's hands clenched into fists.
"Where were you going with your precious Cousin who could not help you?" Magdalen asked sharply, as if she did not wish to hear or acknowledge her defeat. When he didn't answer, she pushed him away and out of Stefan's grip.
Kyren tried to catch himself before he fell, but he could not find his balance, bound. His head slammed against the edge of the doorway, leaving him dazed and bleeding on the floor.
Stefan watched impassively. "If they do know, will they warn the Hunt?"
And then, as if she had finally come to grips with the destruction of her dreams and had nothing left to lose, Althea had a dagger pressed against his throat.
"Answer her question," she growled, and spittle splashed in Kyren's face. "Answer it!"
Kyren couldn't concentrate enough to lie any longer. "We were on our way to the Healer's house," he whispered.
"For what?" But just as she asked that question, she knew. He saw the dawning knowledge in her gaze as she drew back her hand to bury the dagger in his heart. But instead of killing him, she turned towards Magdalen and left Kyren lying on the floor. "You were right. Josiah is alive."
"Of course I was right," Magdalen said.
"Have Stefan send his Hounds to kill his precious Cousin. If she tells anyone what we have done, I swear to you I will--"
Magdalen took the dagger from her hand and dropped it on the floor. "This is not the time for threats, Althea. We are close to our goal."
"So you say!" But she made no move to regain her weapon.
"It is almost midnight," Magdalen pressed. "If you are going to set your trap, then set it!"
"There is more," Althea said. "I was not finished when you decided to play with your prisoner."
Out of the corner of his eye, Kyren saw a group of dark shapes lying against the wall. He realized what they were just as the nearest Hound growled at him.
Stefan's Hunt. He was not bound to Magdalen as the Wild Hunt was bound to the Council, but Stefan rarely did not do Magdalen's bidding. Kyren shuddered.
"Then speak," Magdalen said, dismissing Althea's words with a toss of her hair. "Unless Gabriel is hiding something else--"
Althea's grin was sharp and feral and transformed her face into something Kyren wouldn't wish on his dearest enemy. "Emle is pregnant, yes. But Gabriel has another child."
This simple declaration caught Magdalen's complete attention. She stared at Althea for a long moment, her mouth half-open in surprise as she considered this new wrinkle in their Master Plan.
"Another child?" Stefan asked, breaking the silence. He sounded doubtful.
Magdalen turned on him. "The Hunt lives where you once lived--did you know that?" she asked.
"No," Stefan said, and Kyren heard his surprise in the tone of his voice. "I--Gabriel killed the troll?"
"Thirteen years ago," Magdalen said. "I'm surprised you hadn't noticed."
Kyren remembered the troll. He had gone to the Hunt's house in Faerie with Amalea to bring back her brother's body. Had that only been thirteen years ago?
"I see," Stefan said with a very strange look on his face. "This Emle--what does she look like?"
Althea shrugged. "Like an elf, I suppose. She has long white hair. I only saw her from the back."
"And the child?"
Kyren watched Stefan's hands clench and unclench. Something Althea had said did not sit well with Magdalen's Hound.
"She is just as pale as her parents," Althea said, puzzled by his anger. "She has Gabriel's eyes, but that's really all I noticed."
Without speaking, Stefan turned and buried one fist into a nearby wall.
Instead of plaster, ash sifted down onto the floor.
"It is near to midnight," Magdalen said, watching him.
"What do I care?" Stefan snapped.
"You did not kill her, did you?" Magdalen was smiling now, like a cat who had eaten a delectable bird. "You told me she was dead."
Kyren watched as Althea looked from one to the other, as if waiting to be enlightened, but neither Stefan nor Magdalen paid her any mind.
"She should have been dead!" Stefan shouted, and stormed out of the room before Magdalen could reply.
A moment passed. Kyren held his breath, hoping against hope that they would forget about him and leave him alone.
"It is near to midnight," Magdalen said again. "Your bait is upstairs, in the closet of the first bedroom you'll come to."
"Am I to know what happened just now?" Althea asked.
"That is not my story to tell," Magdalen said. "Fetch your bait."
As soon as Althea had stomped up the stairs, Magdalen turned to torment Kyren again.
"You were on your way to the Healer's house because Josiah is weak, am I right?" Magdalen asked. "He is alive?"
Kyren licked his lips. Since she already knew, did it really matter if he answered her questions? "Yes."
"Did he tell you that he was a Hound?"
In that instant, Kyren knew that he truly had no hope for escape. She would not have told him that if he had a chance to live.
So it didn't matter, then. Whatever happened next, neither pain nor shame mattered. "Yes."
"Why would he tell you such a thing?"
"It was an accident," Kyren whispered. "He did not mean to tell me." He stared at her, curiously unafraid. "You did not know, before. You had no idea of his origins, did you?" Impossibly, he felt his lips turn up into a smile. "You didn't know."
Magdalen had not known. She might know now, but if she had known, she would have used Josiah's presence in her room to her advantage, and she would have enslaved Gabriel much sooner than now.
The laughter that bubbled into his throat was more like a wheeze than true mirth, but the irony of Magdalen's blindness was too amusing not to laugh, despite the situation. She had possessed a bargaining tool for the past ten years, never bothering to explore Josiah's origins or even cast a simple spell that would have unmasked him as a Hound.
But how had she discovered the truth?
Magdalen's foot connected with his ribs, effectively silencing his laughter. "You will not be laughing much longer, Kyren."
Kyren's ribs ached where she had kicked him, and it hurt to take a deep breath. But despite the fact that he knew he would not survive this, he felt a bit better knowing that Magdalen's powers did not extend this far. She hadn't known. That alone kept him from despair.
What bait? His mind would not release those words. Were there other prisoners here?
He found out soon enough when Althea returned with a dark-skinned young human in tow.
The boy's single eye widened when he saw Kyren lying bound on the floor, but his struggles only truly began when he spotted Magdalen. There was no visible restraint over his mouth, but he didn't speak--an ominous sign. Or, perhaps Magdalen had used the same spell to hold in his screams as she had with Josiah. His other eye was covered by a patch, dusty and dirty, stained with sweat.
"It's almost midnight," Althea said. "And we need to finish this."
The boy's struggles intensified when Magdalen jerked him out of Althea's arms. Althea picked up the dagger.
"Althea!" Kyren could not lie there and watch her murder the boy in front of his eyes. "If you must kill anyone, kill me instead!"
Althea laughed. "You weren't so noble when I saw you last," she said, and drew the dagger across the boy's thin wrist--not deep enough to kill him, but deep enough to hurt.
Blood spilled over his skin and dripped on the floor. The boy wet himself--not that Kyren blamed him--and fainted, his eyes rolling back into his head until only the whites showed.
"That may be for the best," Magdalen said, and threw a spell at Kyren--the very same spell that prevented the boy from screaming.
He could still breathe--and eat, he presumed, but he couldn't make a sound.
Why was this worse? If they were going to kill him anyway, then why did it matter?
He could not protest when Stefan returned to drag him away from the door and against the far wall--still within view of the front door and the hallway. It was brighter here, but not by much--or, perhaps, the shadows were already crowding around his vision, ready to carry him away.
Althea smeared the boy's blood on the front doorstep, then laid him right inside the parlor doorway. "Do you want him to see this?" she asked, indicating Kyren.
Magdalen only spared him a small glance. "Perhaps he'll be more receptive to my desires if he sees my power," she said. "Leave him be."
Coldness lodged in Kyren's stomach. Were they setting a trap for Amalea? Surely she was long gone by now. She wouldn't try to push past Magdalen's spells and rescue him, would she?
He knew she would try. But he didn't want to die with her death on his conscience along with everything else he had done.
Magdalen did something with her hand--some sort of spell, he thought, and he watched his surroundings dim. It was almost as if she had summoned a fog to mask their presence from their quarry--only the boy lying in the doorway and the hallway were clear. Kyren had trouble seeing Stefan's Hounds as they spread out around the room, keeping to the shadows, and even Althea--with her yellow hair--was hard to spot.
They waited for what seemed like aeons. Kyren's eyes slipped closed, but he did not give in to darkness. Not yet. When the front door opened--he heard the click and the faint creak as it swung open--he opened his eyes.
There was a--a Hound standing in the doorway. A white Hound, glowing in the darkness, and then a boy, just as quickly as that.
A boy with black hair and a pale face, dressed in human clothing, but moving with a Hound's wariness, his eyes narrowed.
Suspicious. But not suspicious enough.
He spotted the boy lying on the floor immediately, but took his time approaching. He had left the front door open, but it swung shut on silent hinges as Kyren watched.
The Hound only noticed when the locked clicked into place.
For some reason, he spoke Josiah's name. When he didn't receive a reply, he knelt in front of the boy, letting down his guard and sealing his death sentence.
Because in that instant, Stefan's Hounds attacked.
They paid no mind to the boy, whose body would bear both bruises and cuts from their fury, but swarmed over him in a wave of dark fur and flashing teeth, strangely silent, bearing him down under their weight.
Gabriel's Hound shifted shape, twisting sideways to be rid of them. He fought--oh, he fought well--but one Hound was no match for four. And when Stefan joined the mix, Kyren knew that Gabriel's Hound would not live through the attack.
It was a muffled din, now, of yelps and snaps and scrabbling claws. Kyren closed his eyes, unable to watch as Gabriel's Hound went down underneath Stefan's white teeth--now stained with blood. But Althea's dagger pricked his throat, and when he opened his eyes, she stood beside him, scowling.
"You should watch this," she said with a terrible smile.
Kyren shuddered, but complied, turning his gaze to the hallway again, where the boy had awakened and tried to roll out of the way; where Stefan's teeth closed over the white Hound's throat; where that blindingly white fur was now darkened with blood.
Gabriel's Hound shifted shape just as Stefan tore out his throat--a desperate attempt to shove off his attackers with human arms, to kick at Stefan's Hounds with human feet. He shuddered once, his mouth opening in a silent scream as blood poured from his lips and the terrible wound in his throat, and then lay silent, dead.
Dead. There were tears on Kyren's cheeks, but he could not sob to release his sorrow.
Dead.
Would he be next? Or were they intending to kill the boy, too?
Stefan shifted shape and dragged the Hound's body into the parlor, leaving a trail of gore behind.
"It is done," he said, and dropped the body at Magdalen's feet.
The Hound's empty eyes were full of moonlight now, reflecting silver, his face serene. He lay on the floor like a broken doll, with only the blood from his wounds enough to show that he had once been alive.
"Now what?" Althea asked as the fog faded away and the house returned to its previous state.
"Now we find Josiah," Magdalen said. "And you return to your house. You lured him here--you should not be seen here again."
"So you're going to kill both of your prisoners, then?" Althea asked. "Why not kill them now?" She let the moonlight play across the edge of her dagger.
Kyren glanced at the boy, whose eye glittered in the light. He wanted to do something, but his mind was the only thing free, and his paltry powers were nothing compared to Magdalen's might.
He could do nothing. And even knowing that, he could not abandon hope.
"They may still be useful," Magdalen said, and knocked the dagger out of Althea's hand. "And as you say, they are my prisoners. Go home."
"What about Emle?" Althea asked. "And what about Gabriel's child?"
"I will have that child," Magdalen said, and smiled at her. "We have a little more than a week until the Council's binding expires. Gabriel will be busy with his Hunt. I will contact you." She smiled. "Don't fear. We have won."
That wasn't entirely true, and Kyren thought that Althea knew full well that they hadn't won yet. But she only nodded and walked out the front door without stopping to retrieve her dagger.
"Take him back upstairs," Magdalen said to Stefan. "Kyren can wait for me in the basement."
"What about his cousin?" Stefan asked.
"Send two of your Hounds out to find her," Magdalen said, and smiled when Kyren tried to protest. "I will find Josiah myself. There are those in the castle who owe me favors. Now is the time to call them in."
"And the child?" Stefan asked. "And Emle, damn her?"
"Malachi is still alive," Magdalen said in a tone of voice that made Kyren feel sorry for this Malachi, despite the fact that he had no idea who Malachi was.
His thoughts raced. Was Mirella powerful enough to withstand Magdalen? She had been banished from the castle, yes, but if she managed to lure Josiah outside--or if her pawns in the castle pushed past the spells--
And if she did, what could he do about it? He was helpless. For all intents and purposes, he might as well be dead himself.
Kyren made no move to help Stefan drag him down the hall. In fact, he wasn't certain he would have been able to help at all, even if he had tried. He tried to brace himself for the fall when Stefan opened the basement door to throw him down the stairs, but he had nothing to brace himself with, and the darkness that rushed in to claim him was the only cushion he could find against the pain.
Chapter 26
Gabriel was not used to gentleness. He had always torn what he wanted from his Hounds' minds, not caring whether or not his touch caused him pain.
Or, rather, not allowing himself to care.
With Malachi, and since Magdalen's spell still held firm despite his Hound's efforts to free his mind from its binding, he had to ease each and every sliver of information from Malachi's mind.
It was exhausting work, and slow. Magdalen's spell fought his efforts at every turn.
He had dampened the bond between the Hounds at the beginning, just to spare them Malachi's pain if his efforts did not bear fruit.
He did not expect the bond to shatter while he was deep inside Malachi's mind.
It was a sharp sword thrust; a rending; an attack of monstrous proportions. In the instant between realizing what had happened and losing touch with Malachi's mind, he felt his Hound's muscles seize--a movement that left him stiff and unyielding as his mind and body collapsed under the strain.
He choked, then stopped breathing, his hands scrabbling against the sheets. His eyes were wide open, but they did not register Gabriel's presence at all.
The bond between them was gone. Broken, shattered, leaving the Hunt in tatters behind its destruction. Desperately, Gabriel cradled Malachi in his arms--he was limp now, a rag doll tossed aside by some uncaring child. Unresponsive.
But not dead. Not yet, at least.
Someone else had died. But who? He could not test the bond to check; and everyone had been present and accounted for when Lucas came to call. Except Josiah, of course--
Without thinking of the consequences, he delved into Malachi's mind, forcing a tentative bond by touch alone. Malachi seized again, his muscles twitching in protest, a scream dying on his lips before it had a chance to break free.
A bond. If anything, he had to save Malachi's life. Gabriel closed his eyes and dug deeper, unmindful of the damage, only wanting his Hound to breathe again.
It worked, after a fashion; Malachi screamed at the intrusion, his eyes closed now, weakened, but struggling to escape.
Surely the scream would summon Sennet. Gabriel had to hold onto that hope. Or was she caring for the others, if they also collapsed?
What had happened? Who had died?
"Papa? What happened?"
Eri's voice had never sounded so lovely.
Without turning, without daring to break the connection with Malachi's mind, Gabriel struggled to answer her.
"Bring Sennet." He heard Emle's voice now, and Eri's quick response to her mother's question. Their daughter fled down the hall.
Emle gasped. "Is Malachi--"
"Bring Sennet!" It was an order--the only thing he could say without breaking his concentration and giving in to the pain that threatened to consume him. It was bad enough that Malachi was still very close to death. But someone else had died.
A moment later, Sennet appeared beside him, her hands already glowing with the light of her talent. "Zechariah and Thomas are unconscious. Lucas is with them--what happened?"
Without speaking, Gabriel grabbed her wrist with his free hand and showed her. She understood at once, her eyes narrowing in concentration as she tried to repair the damage he had wrought.
But even with her presence, he did not dare release Malachi from his grasp.
The tremors still ran through his body and a bright rivulet of blood ran from the side of his mouth and his nose. Gabriel wiped it away with the edge of his shirt and listened to the sound of Malachi's faltering heartbeat through the bond he had created.
"I don't know if I can heal him," Sennet murmured. "He's not responding to my talent. You're keeping him alive, yes, but I cannot sense his mind at all."
"He will not die," Gabriel whispered, and redoubled his efforts to bring Malachi back. The effort cost him dearly, especially since the bond's destruction had torn through his soul, but he did not care about the cost.
If Malachi lived, then even damnation would be worth it.
And then, long after Gabriel feared his strength would run out, Malachi stirred under Sennet's touch. He did not awaken; his mind was too bruised for that.
Gabriel did not want him to wake up. Not yet.
"Let him go," Sennet whispered. "Emle's here."
And she was, right beside him, her face grave and worried. "Gabriel, please. Let him go. Allow Sennet to do her work."
It was safe, now, to release him. He was breathing on his own now. Unconscious, but breathing.
What would happen when he awoke?
"Gabriel." Emle touched his shoulder. "Please. Come with me."
He had never felt so weak before. Never showed such weakness to anyone, much less the woman he loved. What would she think of him now?
"The others?" He barely managed to speak the words without pitching over onto the bed.
"Zechariah and Thomas are here," Emle said. "I don't know where Nathaniel and Seth are."
Which meant either Nathaniel or Seth had died, unless the death had been Josiah's.
"I never meant to hurt him," he whispered.
"You saved his life," Sennet said. "I'm not sure how, but you saved his life. He'll thank you later."
Gabriel let her ease Malachi out of his arms. From somewhere, he found enough strength to stand. But walking--ah--walking was too complicated at the moment. He couldn't walk and stay upright at the same time.
He glanced down at the bed, and met Sennet's gaze.
"How much of his pain did you take, Gabriel?" she asked.
"Enough to keep him alive," Gabriel whispered, and managed to turn.
Emle grabbed his arm before he fell. "Lean on me," she whispered. "No one will ever know." To Sennet, she said, "I'm taking him to the library."
He loved her for that; she had offered him her strength without a single qualm.
"I'll be there as soon as Malachi is stable," Sennet replied.
Gabriel roused himself enough to protest. "No. See to the others first. And tell Lucas what happened."
"I'll tell Lucas," Emle offered. "Eri is with him now."
"Did I--Did I frighten her?" He had not meant to frighten her at all.
"No. She is fine. Worried, but fine. Now rest."
It was too tiring to protest. Gabriel had enough presence of mind to have her shut the door before she left him alone in his chair in the library, but by then he was truly too far gone to care whether or not Lucas saw him weakened.
Someone had murdered a Hound. Was it Nathaniel? Seth? Or had Josiah reappeared, only to vanish again?
He let his head fall back against the chair and closed his eyes. It hurt to release his iron control on consciousness, but he could not recover without some semblance of healing. Not from this.
Someone had murdered a Hound. That thought followed him down into a darkness far too deep for dreams.
(Next Update: October 7th)
House St. Clair Home
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