The Omaja Stone Page 19

  “I’m taking Shirali and her children to Zafira’s cottage to ask her to hide them for us for a few days. Gracie and I will go to the castle to tell Solange what’s happened—perhaps Gracie can stay with her while I live here in the barn and continue the farm work. Don’t worry about us; just get Rafe and return to us safely. Zehu be with you, sister!”

  Jiandra reached down and clasped his strong hand in farewell. She galloped along the road west of Kingston, heading for Caladian Road. Tears streamed past her cheeks and into her hair as she flew through dark Silverthorne Wood, her knees tight and tense against the horse’s flanks. Tiber sensed her urgency and ran with swiftness and determination. The Omaja stone flashed and glowed intermittently as it thumped against her chest, reflecting Jiandra’s resolve to find and rescue Rafe. Everything she thought was important and real seemed like a distant dream now.

  She’d never seen Gerynwid the Shapeshifter, but knew the legends well: she was reportedly a beautiful but vile woman—a cold, heartless, bloodthirsty witch who secluded herself in her manor performing blood rituals and incantations to summon demons. What had seemed too fantastical to be true was now an awful reality. The sorceress had been actively plotting to kill Solange and usurp Villeleia’s throne, and recruited Solange’s would-be assassins hoping to find allies. When that failed, she murdered her own Nandal maid to get back at Yavi, and now she had abducted the one person that hurt Jiandra the most—precious, loving, brave little Rafe. Her brother, who was like a son to her. Gerynwid must have paid close attention to Jiandra’s movements and interactions during her spying.

  She braced herself mentally for the battle that lay ahead of her. Gerynwid had seriously wounded Yavi despite his strength and skill, so the sorceress had impressive fighting abilities as well as powerful magic at her disposal.

  Thank Zehu for the Protection power of the Omaja, Jiandra thought, teeth clenched. So I can kill her.

  #

  At dawn Elio and Gracie arrived at Castle Villeleia and asked to see Solange. They were escorted to her sitting parlor while the queen was summoned, and within minutes Solange threw open the door to find them there, Elio pacing and Gracie in tears. Elio stepped forward and took Solange’s hands in his.

  “What has happened, Elio? You look exhausted, and your clothing smells of burning wood.”

  “Rafe was abducted last night, by Gerynwid the Shapeshifter, we think. Jiandra went after him.”

  “Rafe, kidnapped? Where did she take him?”

  “The note said ‘my manor in Caladia.’”

  “Why would the sorceress do this? I thought Gerynwid the Shapeshifter kept in seclusion on her estate.”

  “Jiandra says she wants the Omaja stone.”

  “Did Jiandra go alone?”

  “Yes.”

  Solange pulled away from him and moved toward the door. “I will send a garrison of troops to Caladia immediately.”

  “No.” Elio stopped her, grasping her arm. “The note said ‘come alone or he dies.’ Jiandra swears that the Omaja stone protects her from all physical harm. I fear for her and Rafe, feel I should be doing something more too, but—please don’t send soldiers. It may put my brother at more risk.”

  Solange fell silent, glancing at Gracie’s tear-stained face. She moved to the girl’s side and put her arms around her, then addressed Elio. “What can I do to help?”

  Elio swallowed. “The witch set our cottage afire. We lost everything in the house except for a few items we were able to save on the way out.”

  “Your lovely cottage, burned? And the barn, the orchards? Your fields?”

  “Only the cottage was destroyed, thank the Gods.”

  “I will see to it that you have everything you need to rebuild as soon as possible. You and Gracie will stay here at the castle in the meantime.”

  “Thank you, but I need to return to the farm, to keep watch over it as well as get the work done, tend the animals. We can’t afford to lose our autumn crops now. I can sleep in the barn. But Gracie could use a more comfortable place to stay. We lost all our clothing and personal items. Perhaps you have some clothes she could borrow?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Gracie murmured.

  “Please, call me Solange.” The queen smiled at her encouragingly. “We will be sisters here in the castle, since I have none now.”

  Gracie hugged her gratefully.

  Solange looked up at Elio. “Before you go back to the farm, please let me provide a warm bath, a hot breakfast, and a bed to rest in at least for a few hours. I’ll have my servants provide you with a clean change of clothing. Please, Elio. Let me take care of you.”

  Elio sighed and nodded. “A bath and some clean clothes would be welcomed. But I can’t rest right now. Not until I see my brother arrive home safely.”

  #

  Guard Captain Hollweg had almost rounded the corner when he heard voices approaching and stopped, flattening himself against the wall out of sight. He craned his neck around to watch through the fronds of a potted plant as Solange’s maids showed a tall, handsome farm boy to a guest chamber nearby. Servants bustled up and down the wide hallway, carrying pails of steaming water to the young man’s room. At the other end of the hallway, Solange emerged from the hallway to her private quarters, escorting a dark-haired peasant girl about her age to a second guest chamber nearby. A maid carrying an armload of clothing and a brush followed them. After a moment, Solange emerged from the girl’s room and came down the hallway toward the young man’s room. In her haste, she didn’t notice Hollweg peeping around the corner behind the plants as she swept past. He watched as the young queen glanced furtively left and right before opening the door to her young male visitor’s room and closing it softly behind her.

  A grin spread across Hollweg’s face. “So our little queen likes a handsome farmer, does she?”

  #

  Solange closed his door softly behind her. Elio was reclining in the tub, his muscular arms resting along its rim.

  She cleared her throat, and his head jerked up, his eyes flying open.

  “I just, I thought maybe you could…use someone to scrub your back,” she mumbled, fidgeting a little.

  Elio sat up, sloshing the water a bit. “Oh, I…ah…”

  She swallowed. “I know this is unseemly of me but I just want to be near you. I will leave if you wish.”

  “No,” he said softly. “I don’t wish.”

  She smiled. “Cover yourself with a cloth.”

  He reached over the side of the tub to pluck up one of the towels the maids had left there for him and draped it over his groin, then smiled sheepishly at her.

  She went to his side and knelt on the rug, grasping his hand in both of hers and kissing the back of his fingers. “I am sorry for your tragedy, Elio. I wish there were more I could do.”

  “You have done plenty, Solange.” He brought her hand to his lips to return the kiss. “Thank you for taking Gracie in, and for the bath.”

  “My cooks are preparing breakfast for you. And I want to send food with you before you go back out to your farm.” She scooped up the soap and cloth. “I offered you a back scrub…may I?”

  He nodded and leaned forward, so she dipped the cloth and soap into the water, and spread suds over his smooth, gorgeous muscles. It was quite scandalous, and she giggled softly.

  “What is it?”

  “Oh, nothing, I…I’ve just never bathed a naked man before.”

  “Well…how is it?”

  “It’s pretty thrilling, actually.”

  “Oh, that’s good news.”

  She smoothed the suds over his thick shoulders and down his arms, then scrubbed him gently with the wet cloth, rinsing all the soap off. Then she bent forward to press her lips to his shoulder, hoping to ease his weariness and take his mind off Jiandra and Rafe, at least for a moment.

  #

  Captain Hollweg sipped from the cup of brandy Barkley served him, studying the well-groomed,
perturbed-looking council advisor from across his massive desk. “You are aware of the Stovy siblings, whom the queen refers to as ‘cousins,’ are you not, Sir Barkley?”

  “I only know of the young woman, Jiandra Stovy, who brought in the Nandal assassin.”

  “The parents are dead. Miss Stovy has three siblings, apparently. A brother about her age, and two younger ones, another brother and a sister. They are landowners, but not nobility, and unbeknownst to the council, the queen has become very close to them since Riselle was killed.”

  Barkley leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “What of it? Is there a connection between the Stovy siblings and Solange’s change of opinion about the Nandal scum in our land?”

  “I’m not certain, but I observed a very interesting transaction this morning.”

  “Out with it, man,” Barkley demanded crossly.

  Hollweg reached up to twirl the end of his thick black moustache. “It’s the type of information that could have grave implications for little Solange’s reputation, were it to leak out. I am not sure it’s prudent for me to share it.”

  Barkley scowled. “If it’s more coin you want, I am willing to pay handsomely, but only if the information is good.”

  Hollweg grinned. “It’s good. You want to oust the queen, Barkley?”

  “Would your information help accomplish that task?”

  “Perhaps. Some citizens expect our queen to act with discretion and propriety at all times.”

  Barkley reached down to unlock a desk drawer. He drew out a small coffer of coins and set it on top of the desk. “What do you know, Hollweg?”

  “First, I need to know your intentions, sir, so I can prepare myself accordingly. Do you intend to oust the queen?”

  Barkley’s right hand formed a fist atop the wooden coffer. “Yes.”

  Hollweg slowly rose to his feet, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Then you are under arrest for treason.”

  Barkley stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

  Hollweg drew his sword. “Get up. Now.”

  Barkley slipped his hand under the desk to reach for something.

  Hollweg raised his sword in a swift, fluid motion and lifted Barkley’s chin with it, forcing him to his feet. “One false move and I execute you myself, here and now,” he gritted, moving carefully around the desk toward him.

  “Your loyalty lies with this spoiled brat, this mere girl? I can hardly believe it!”

  Hollweg grabbed the front of Barkley’s vest, turned him to pin his arms, and pulled a rope around his wrists. “The queen has my complete and utter loyalty, as did her father, Gods rest his brave soul.”

  “You back-stabbing fool!”

  Hollweg finished securing the rope. “Fool I may be, but I take exception to back-stabber. I prefer to engage my enemies face to face.” He jerked Barkley along with him out of the house, to join the guard detail waiting outside.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Jiandra spoke with a gate guard as soon as she arrived in Caladia. She had been traveling for twenty-four hours, with only a few hours’ sleep in Frocklin Grove, desperate to reach Rafe.

  She called down to the guard from Tiber’s back. “I seek Gerynwid the Shapeshifter. Can you direct me to her estate?”

  The guard frowned. “It isn’t safe to go there, milady. No one ventures onto her estate if they want to live. They say she’s got monster-wolves breeding there and she eats the flesh of unwary travelers who stray into her forest. Why in the name of the Gods would you seek her?”

  “My business is my own, sir. Will you tell me how to find her estate, or shall I ask someone else?”

  The guard studied her for a moment and then motioned with his hand. “It’s to the east of town. Leave Caladia from the north gate; follow Lavender Road out about a mile and take the first path you see into the woods on the right. I can’t tell you what to look for; I just know her property is at the end of that path.”

  “My thanks.” Jiandra nodded to him and nudged Tiber to leave.

  #

  It was growing dark by the time Jiandra found the path veering off Lavender Road northeast of Caladia. She trotted Tiber through the gnarled, twisted trees, searching ahead for any sign of a dwelling, a fence, or a wall. Poor Rafe would be terrified, held captive in this remote, forbidding wood in an evil sorceress’s house. Shuddering, Jiandra urged Tiber on faster.

  Eventually she came to a clearing in the woods and a tall stone wall with an iron gate. She dismounted and hid Tiber in the trees, then approached the gate on foot. It swung inward as she came near, and she jumped, startled, then scanned ahead for any sign of movement. She cautiously entered the courtyard and saw a large stone manor towering in the misty shadows. The gate swung closed behind her. She glanced back at it, then up at the enormous stone mansion. It had tall, narrow windows, rounded corner turrets with pointed roofs, and a few small iron-grated balconies. It was crowned with a tall round tower soaring up into the sky. Jiandra’s gaze moved up the length of the tower, drawn to a light glowing from the top windows.

  A low, menacing growl to her left startled her. A large blackwolf creature with glowing emerald eyes approached stealthily.

  She grabbed the Omaja stone in her left hand. “Stay back, foul beast! I have business with your mistress.”

  The wolf chuckled ominously, his voice a husky growl. “She is waiting for you in the tower room upstairs.”

  Jiandra climbed the steps to the massive front door and pushed it open with both hands, heart pounding in her chest. She stepped into the entrance hall and saw a staircase at the back of the room. She hurried to it and rushed up the stairs, praying that Rafe was all right. Adrenaline and fear gave her the strength to climb three flights of stairs quickly, and then up a winding spiral staircase to the top of the tower. At last, Jiandra came to the doorway into the tower room.

  A beautiful woman stood in the archway to greet her, dressed in a flowing white gown, her shiny black hair loose down her back, her piercing blue eyes glinting maliciously.

  “Finally, you arrive with my stone.”

  Jiandra’s jaw clenched. “Where’s my brother?”

  “He is here, inside. Come.” The sorceress stepped aside and motioned Jiandra to follow her into the tower room.

  Jiandra stood still, fearing a trap. “Rafe!” she screamed, trying to see past Gerynwid into the tower room. “Rafe, if you are in there, answer me!”

  No response.

  “Why isn’t he answering?”

  Gerynwid’s eyes flickered with contempt and amusement. “He is asleep.”

  “What do you mean, ‘asleep?’ If he is already dead, say so. We can get down to the business of trying to kill each other straight away.”

  “He isn’t dead; he’s in a dream trance, from which you cannot wake him.”

  “Vile witch!” Jiandra lunged for Gerynwid with both hands, finding a physical strength within herself she didn’t know existed. She gripped the woman’s skinny throat, hard.

  Gerynwid caught Jiandra’s arms to brace herself and struggled to stay on her feet. She used one hand to attempt to fire a lightning bolt at Jiandra’s face, but it only sparked against an invisible barrier and zapped back at Gerynwid’s hand instead. The sorceress screeched in pain, shaking her hand.

  Jiandra forced her backwards into the large tower room, holding her by the neck, and scanned the area for Rafe. He was lying on his back on a pallet on the floor, pale and immobile.

  “No.” Tears stung Jiandra’s eyes.

  Gerynwid managed a smirk.

  Jiandra gripped her neck tighter, shaking her. “What have you done to him? Tell me now or I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands!”

  The sorceress choked out, “If you kill me, I will not be able to return his heart to his body. Only I have the magic to do this, and make the boy live.”

  “His heart—?” Jiandra gasped. She shoved Gerynwid out of the way and rushed to Rafe’s side. His shirt was pulled open slightly, revealing an a
ngry red incision in his chest. She touched his cold, clammy forehead with a trembling hand, her anguished tears dropping onto his arm and chest. She rose to her feet and whirled to face Gerynwid.

  “What have you done to him?”

  Gerynwid rubbed her reddened throat. “As I said, I removed his heart and placed him in a dream trance. I can put it back, administer a healing antidote, and the boy will awaken. Or, I can devour the heart while you watch, and you can take your eternally sleeping brother home with you, never to die nor awake. The choice is yours. And if you can’t bear the sight of him forever in his undead state, you can bury him alive.”

  Jiandra turned away from her in disgust and knelt at Rafe’s side. She clutched the Omaja in her left hand and covered the incision with her right, focusing Healing. The knife wound sealed up and disappeared, but he did not awaken. Jiandra felt his forehead again; it was still cold. Jiandra hung her head, a sob wracking her shoulders.

  “The Omaja can’t grow him a new heart, Jiandra. Only I possess the magic to replace it, and the spell that will bring him back.”

  Jiandra touched her baby brother’s soft cheek, staring down at his lifeless face. Tears streamed down her cheeks. I did this. He is here, lying like a corpse, because I carry the Omaja. “Zehu, help me,” she begged softly.

  Ujagar’s demonic voice surged with contempt inside Gerynwid, and spoke through her lips. “Stop invoking that name! He will not help you, pitiful fool! He has no power here.”

  “Be quiet!” Jiandra shouted over her shoulder, her hands curling into fists. “How could you do this to an innocent child, you loathsome demon!” She pulled Rafe’s body into her arms and sobbed aloud, her tears soaking his collar.

  Gerynwid’s silky voice returned. “Give me the Omaja and I will wake him.”

  Jiandra glared at her. “And then you’ll kill us both. I should kill you instead, this very instant!” She touched her forehead to her brother’s hair. “Let me grieve my brother in peace.”

  “I’ll not kill you, fool girl. I will let you both go, I swear it.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Without the Omaja stone, you have no significance to me, and if you have your brother back alive, I have no significance to you.”