A Power of Old(24)

They would be proved wrong.

“Jenus, you look uncomfortable.”

A treacle-like voice oozed from the darkness. Queen Trina approached the steps up to the pavilion, her beautiful face half-cast in darkness.

“Mind your own business!” I hissed, spitting a globule of phlegm in her direction.

She merely smiled, side-stepping the spittle.

“Charming,” she retorted.

I sighed, resting my head back on the stone.

She-devil.

I loathed Queen Trina. I wasn’t alone in that, I was sure. As a young boy, I had loved her, fascinated with her dark, thick hair and her almond eyes, and the soft mocking of her smile. I had worshiped her from afar, waiting for my moment, waiting till I was man enough to woo her. I had been a fool. With the same reverence I held for her, she’d attached herself to Tejus, plotting and scheming her way into his life—on occasion using me as a pawn just to get close to him. To make him love her. My handsome, arrogant brother, the monster who had everything, and hated himself for it.

“Go away,” I sighed. “I don’t want or need your help.”

“It doesn’t look that way,” she remarked, as casually as if we were two people having a picnic in a park.

“What do you want?” I asked, changing tactics. I was too tired and humiliated to play games.

“To help you,” she replied simply.

“And what scheme would that play into? Is it another arrow to be aimed at Tejus’s heart? I have news for you—he has evidently moved on.” I smiled to myself. I knew that comment would enrage her.

She was silent for a few moments.

“I know how you feel,” she whispered eventually. “I know what humiliation is. I know what it’s like to be shut out in the cold by Tejus. I know what a desperate place that is. I’ve been there.”

“I do not care what Tejus thinks of me,” I snapped back.

“Perhaps not,” she conceded, “but where else are you going to go? You are an enemy of Hellswan now, Jenus. Perhaps you might join me instead. You and I are survivors—the ones who stand back and witness the rise of others, and then their eventual downfall, all the while maintaining our balance.”

“You don’t think this is a downfall?” I raged.

She shrugged. “You are alive. You are in a better position than you think, Jenus.”

“How so?”

“There is a dark power coming. An ancient one, once king of all, cut down by the very men who served him. Once he is risen, he will restore true balance. Come to my kingdom—help me. Share in my glory, Jenus.”

Queen Trina’s words sounded utterly implausible, and yet they sent a shiver of fear running down my spine. I had never heard her talk with such seriousness, such awe. Did she really believe that an ancient power was rising? What power? What glory?

“You’re making no sense,” I replied curtly.

“Oh, but I will if you come with me.”

“Why, if you’re so eager for me to join you, did you not rescue me from that abysmal cave?”

At this, Queen Trina laughed. “Where would the fun have been in that?” she asked. “Jenus, all things happen in their own time. Events thus far have been just as they should be. Surprising, yes, but eventually satisfactory. Join me, Jenus,” she said again. “You will not regret it.”

I assessed my options—it didn’t take long.

It was either the cave or the Seraq kingdom, known for its lavish opulence and comfort. I would be a fool to turn her down…and even if it meant I was willingly becoming a pawn in whatever political game she was playing, at least I would be a well-fed and warm one.

“Agreed,” I sighed, sitting up.

Queen Trina smiled in the darkness, her eyes almost luminous as she fixed her gaze on me. Suddenly, I felt more like prey than political pawn.





Sherus





I was escorted through The Shade with two of my guards, led by yet another witch to the treehouse apartments where Ben and Derek lived with their families. They were curious places—modern, from what I understood of the human world, and beautifully constructed, but I had no real idea as to why they lived among the trees and were not content with the ground.

When we reached the door, the witch knocked, clearing her throat as if she was nervous about approaching the inhabitants. She was young—I imagined she was some kind of novice, a younger generation of a coven that hadn’t yet reached the height of her powers.

Derek opened the door, smiling politely when he saw me, but eyeing my guards with suspicion.

“Thank you, Arwen.” He nodded at the witch. “You can leave us.”

She nodded back, and without another word she turned and left, disappearing down beneath the wooden veranda.