A Ride of Peril(50)
"You are too kind. Thank you."
"You are quite famous around here, son of Boovar," Lira noted admiringly. "He sided with the enemy, but you chose to fight and defend these lands. We have a soft spot for rebels, you see."
///
"I'm flattered and grateful," he said, looking at Anjani and me.
"Don't be," Una cut in. "If our mistress is unhappy with the terms of your proposed alliance, if either of you makes the wrong move or tries something against us, we will slit your throats and bleed you dry, regardless of your rebel fame."
The chilling statement came out in a polite tone, accompanied by a dry smile that sent shivers down my spine. I took a deep breath and kept my guard up, my senses flaring and picking up the scents and heartbeats of both hostiles and potential allies.
"Rest assured, that will not be the case," Bijarki replied bluntly.
"We shall see," Una shot back, then pointed at the incubi. "Since you decided to keep these rats alive, you get to keep an eye on them till we get to the camp."
We looked at the incubi, who wore the most desperate of expressions on their faces, their wide gray eyes begging us for mercy. I groaned and fetched two lines of rope from my horse's saddle, handing one to Anjani. We both moved to tie the incubi's hands behind their backs.
Bijarki nodded. "Like I said, we'll spare them for now. They have information we may need."
Phoenix
I was upstairs in the attic with a couple of pillows and the Daughter. I figured I'd keep her close and comfortable since she had a peculiar habit of passing out when I had a vision. I let her relax on the pillows, while I prepared myself.
I followed the Druid's advice and focused on specific snippets of the past during my visions. I wanted to find out more about what had driven Azazel over the edge, which inadvertently took me to a grandiose feast inside a massive dinner hall. Its domed ceiling was as tall as that of a Renaissance cathedral adorned with massive arches and sumptuous sculptures of Eritopian deities, hybrids of various animals carved into the white marble.
Seven enormous pillars supported the dome, sculpted in the form of the seven Daughters of Eritopia and painted in gold and lavish purple. They were accurate representations of the goddesses. They held their arms up, supporting the ceiling and the plethora of marble creatures of Eritopia's diverse fauna across all the planets.
Ample chandeliers made with fine brushed brass and crystals hung from above, with hundreds of pink and yellow flames flickering where candles were supposed to be mounted. I chalked it up to magic and moved forward into the banquet hall. Twenty doors were carved into the circular white marble wall. They were made from solid purple wood and decorated with delicate gold floral motifs.
In the middle was a thick gold disc, serving as a platform for a superb dining table. Dinner was set for twenty, with beautiful china plates, gold-plated cutlery, silk napkins, and crystal glasses. Pink and yellow flames flickered in triple candelabra emerging from rich floral arrangements. It was an arrangement designed for royalty.
One of the doors opened. The sound of thunder and strong winds echoed from beyond. A tall man walked in. Behind him I saw darkness with specks of stardust, as if the cosmos waited in the room from which he'd emerged. He closed the door behind him and locked it with a large key, beautifully crafted with gold and fine gems. He dropped it in the pocket of his black overcoat.
The man seemed familiar, so I stepped forward to get a better look, following him as he walked up to the table. Two silhouettes emerged from the walls, ethereal figures made of white smoke that moved toward the man, bowing before him. He smiled, removing his coat and handing it to one of the creatures, while the other pulled out his chair.
He sat down. The creatures moved across the room to hang the coat behind a decorative panel made of colorful stained glass with a solid gold frame. Pitchers of water appeared on the table out of thin air, and the man poured himself a drink. The medium, sand-colored hair; his gray eyes and sharp features; and his Cupid's bow lips and broad shoulders instantly rang a bell. I was standing next to a much younger Almus, Draven's father.
He wore an elegant suit that reminded me of 18th century attire. He wore feather pants and a vest made of fine black velvet matched with red leather boots, a white cotton shirt, and a crimson bow tie. He went through two glasses of water in absolute silence before the sound of another door opening made us both turn our heads.