Stranger (The Aevyanthis Chronicles, Book One)

Chapter Nine

The sound of the grey elf's footsteps whispered along the carpet as he made his way through the brimstone halls. He hated the castle. Mildew spores floated through the air, sticking to everything that lingered for too long. Grime and dust caked the walls, and whatever lived in the shadows there was never meant to leave them.

He glanced down at the bodies as he passed, taking care to step over the one sprawled across the chamber door's threshold; it looked like the boy had clawed at the wood until his fingers bled. Atop the stairs that led to the throne, two idle wraiths floated by the woman – their true master. She was sitting on the edge of the onyx chair, gripping the armrests with hands that were more claw than hand.

At the bottom of the stairs - half-sitting, half-laying in a pool of his own blood - a servant boy was trying his best to cling to the world of the living. His clammy hands were keeping pressure on a wound that was too deep to come back from. He was fighting for each breath, and whatever spluttering he managed fell on deaf ears. His face, although twisted and stripped of color, looked familiar. But the grey elf had been busy these last few days, and the boy's name escaped him. Perhaps he was imagining the familiarity; every day a handful of fresh faces were recruited to serve his sister, and every day a handful of old faces were never seen again.

"Mistress Abriel," the elf said, holding his hand to his heart and giving a half bow. There he stayed, until the twitch of her finger gave the signal to rise.

"You summoned me?"

His sister's eyes shone with murder, two blazing orbs set in unmoving grey stone. Something that wasn't Abriel was looking through those eyes, watching the world behind the safety and comfort of a body that was not its own.

"I sent for you two days ago," she said.

"I have been hunting, milady. I bring back a gift that I hope will please you." He removed the black sapphire necklace and held it out towards her.

She threw one of the wraiths a sharp glance, and it floated down towards him. As if sensing its master's murderous intent, it growled and hissed as it snatched the necklace, only settling as it placed it in the palm of her outstretched hand.

She turned her attention to the soul that moaned and danced within the gem, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply.

"Hmm. Paladin Torr?"

The elf averted his gaze as a forked tongue slid out between her lips and ran up the smooth crystal, the soul tinkling as it threw itself against the other side; it was the first he'd seen of his sister's new mutation, and he hoped it would be the last.

"Yes. Paladin Torr." Abriel gave it back to the wraith, who gently clasped it around her neck. "Your contribution to the Circle is noted, Saerelion, but I have a more pressing issue for you to deal with."

The elf bowed again. "Ask anything of me, milady, and it shall be done."

One side of her mouth twitched up, then the other, exposing teeth that had grown jagged and sharp with time; it was the kind of smile that never reached the eyes, the kind that came from someone who had forgotten how to feel. It lingered on her face for a moment, before whatever darkness that lived within her wisped it away.

"Find the Stranger with the Soul Tattoo," she said. "The one whom the demon serves. Bring her to me. Take Narixia, but keep to the shadows. If anyone sees you, it will put our plan in danger."

"Yes, milady."

Saerelion deepened his bow, before turning on a sharp heel and leaving. He kept his face expressionless. After centuries of hiding in that damned castle, Abriel had finally found what she – what they – were waiting for. He wondered if she would feel happiness once their plan had succeeded, or even if it was what she still wanted. There was so little of her left, and his heart twisted in his chest every time he laid eyes on her. Once this was done, whatever was living within his sister would be satisfied and would release her from her servitude; the only thing that was stopping him from having her back was the Stranger.