Threads of Fate

Chapter 68 ~ The First Blood Spilt

    By sunset two days later, the rooftops of Lochren had begun to push to the forefront of the horizon, rising from the ground like the sun bleached bones of animals long since dead. The manor itself resided beyond the sprawling city limits, and Tissaia could see the lights of its many lanterns as they crept towards the outskirts of the grounds.

    She already knew where they'd make their entry. Lochren Manor was surrounded by beautiful gardens, each watered by ancient streams that had been carved into existence by her and Talarion's ancestors. Bridges stretched over those streams and beneath each bridge was a tunnel that connected to the extensive system of them that burrowed through the manor grounds.

    There would likely be at least one guard stationed at each gated entrance, but they could dispatch them swiftly enough, and Vael was going to remain on lookout for them once they were inside. They had decided to split into three groups, though there were only two tasks to be done.

    One group would sneak inside while the other two staged distractions at opposite ends of the manor, large enough to redirect most of the Lochren warriors' attention. It had been decided that she, Talarion, Azael, Kahari, Vael, and Gaelen would infiltrate the manor, while the rest of the Cahirim formed the other two groups.

    She had been optimistic about their plan last night when they went over it for the fifteenth time, but now, staring at those gravel pathways that led to the place she dreaded, Tissaia wasn't so sure. Their father was no fool. He would have called as many warriors to his aid as possible. It would be a fight to get to him if the Cahirim's distractions failed.

    They had already split off into their groups and she could only faintly see the last of the warriors as they slunk away into the dying sunlight. The last of its rays clung to the walls of the manor like phantom fingers of blood, as though it were fighting to hold on, or fighting to drag other souls into the darkness with it.

    Tissaia shivered instinctively and flinched when a calloused hand touched her arm. Azael's soothing scent wrapped around her a heartbeat later and she didn't resist when he pulled her close. She closed her eyes, steadying herself in the solid strength of him, letting that strength pool within herself too.

    She could do this. This would be the very last time. She could face her father once more, for her brothers. She owed it to Kaius, for all he had done for them. All he had given them. She would draw as much blood from Roshan Lochren as he had drawn from her and her brother.

    She would inflict as much pain upon him as he had upon them. As he had allowed his Mindseeker to inflict upon Kaius. And when he had no more blood left to give, and all he could do was beg for his life, her brother would be the one to end it.

    Her eyes opened to seek out Talarion and found him crouched just ahead, silently watching three Lochren warriors who were patrolling the grounds close to where they'd enter. His fingers traced the hilt of one of his fang-like daggers and she knew he'd already pieced together how he would dispatch them. A lump formed in her throat before she could catch it.

    She managed to swallow it though, and merely ingrained her brother's features to memory. The long, lean cut of his body, perfectly molded to the shadows as it was honed to be. His dark, neatly braided hair. The proud nose and cheekbones. His naturally downturned lips. All the little things that made them carbon copies of one another, yet so different at the same time.

    The look in his eyes was what set them apart. Cold determination, of a different kind than her own. She had tried to deny what she knew in her heart over and over again, but she knew he'd been warning her of it in his own way. Trying to prepare her for what was coming. He wanted her to understand, and she couldn't do it. She couldn't let him do this. Tissaia moved a moment too late.