The Devil's Liege (The Mathias Saga Book 2) (14 page)

BOOK: The Devil's Liege (The Mathias Saga Book 2)
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Mathias watched where Azazel guided his horse up the mountain. Azazel rode with his head slightly forward. He seemed to have the ability to peer out of the top of his head, or at least that’s how it looked to Mathias. He did his best to guide Stormy into the same footprints. Less snow that way.

Mathias had tried holding his head like Azazel did, and while it did help block the wind some, he could barely see in front of him. He’d stopped blinking himself warm a while ago. It was getting too hard to concentrate. Better to be cold than to kill himself or the horse accidentally.

Suddenly, Azazel stopped. Stormy almost bumped into the back side of the horse in front of him. Mathias hadn’t been paying attention.

“What’s up?” Mathias asked.

Azazel looked around. He seemed to be checking for something. “It’s too quiet.”

Mathias leaned back in the saddle, listened, and realized Azazel was right. Even the sounds of the wind had stopped. In every horror film he could remember, if stuff went quiet, the bad shit was about to go down.

Mathias looked around the trail. There was nothing to see, just some snow. He almost expected some monster to storm out of the bushes, but none did. “What do we do now?”

Azazel grunted. “We go on, but keep alert. I don’t like this.”

He waited until Azazel was a few feet ahead before he tapped Stormy’s flanks with his heels. The horse moved forward slowly, almost as if the horse sensed something too.

Mathias was starting to get that creepy crawly feeling that traveled up and down his spine. That wrong reaction that happened when he knew something bad was going to happen. The whole place didn’t feel right. That, along with the pain, made him want to jump off the horse and bury his back in the snow for a while, but he didn’t. Hypothermia wasn’t going to help his chances any. He could just imagine himself frozen solid amongst the snow. Not a pretty picture.

So, he followed Azazel. The closer the peak loomed, the more Mathias didn’t feel right. The pain was moving from a sharp pierce with each heartbeat to a bass drum radiating through his body almost like he was standing behind a huge gong. It rattled his bones and his body. This was the hardest his heart had ever pounded in his entire life. It sucked.

His vision started to fade. The clap-clap-clap of the horse’s hooves on the rocks seemed to be matching the beat of his heart. As the horse’s body swayed back and forth, it made Mathias’ body sway in the saddle. Finally, the world tilted and he landed on his back in the snow—hard.

“Oomph.”

The extra pain made his head swim.

Thud. Crunch, Crunch. Crunch. “Mathias, are you okay?” Azazel asked. He was peering down at Mathias.

Mathias blinked his eyes so he could focus. The world was still spinning. “I think we’re going in the right direction.”

Azazel snorted. “Do you think you can ride?”

Mathias tried to shake his head, but the dizziness kept him pinned to the ground. He wasn’t even sure if he could sit up. “I don’t know yet.”

Azazel let out a long deep breath. “Decide soon. We need to get you out of the snow.”

* * * * *

Vlad dipped his quill into the jar of ink on his blotter. The quill felt right in his hands. Powerful. He hated the feel of modern pens. So impersonal. Ink was meant to flow, not be rolled.

He looked at the piece of ivory parchment in front of him. It was time.

 

17 December, 2013

 

You are cordially invited to attend a reception in honor of the great deeds you have performed for our world. Refreshments will be provided.

Time: 12:00 P.M.

Place: The Ring of Immortality.

 

Signed,

Vlad Tepes

 

He wiped off the quill with a piece of linen and laid it on his desk. Then, he blinked the finished letter into enough copies for his needs. True, there was always the chance that some would not attend, but a list of names would be at the door. Anyone who didn’t show would be put to death. It was a very simple solution to a difficult problem.

It was a shame to have to rely on what he’d learned about rule during the medieval times, but it couldn’t be helped. There were times that barbarity was warranted. Too bad there were too many these days that didn’t see the value of monstrosity.

He blinked the envelopes and watched as the letters folded themselves, stuffed themselves neatly into the envelopes, and then laid themselves neatly into a pile on the desk.

Once the last one hit the desk, he picked up his phone. Stuart needed to do his part now.

* * * * *

Stuart rubbed his shin. Damn Vlad for making him do this. It wasn’t like he didn’t have other things to do. He leaned over and peeked at the queer little marble statue on the floor. Damn demonic garden gnome. Why people collected stupid things like this was a wonder to him. He would have preferred a topiary or at least something not so hard on his shins.

“You,” he pointed his finger at it. “One more time and I’ll turn you into dust.”

Of course the statue made no response. Stuart glared at it once more and shoved the envelope underneath the door. He needed to cool it. The last thing he needed was for someone to see him talking to inanimate objects.

He snarled at the statue, almost daring it to move. He just couldn’t help himself. It was too ridiculous. It looked kind of like a cross between a gargoyle and one of those troll dolls with the fly-away hair. Except this thing was as bald as a cue ball. He didn’t even want to think about where Vlad got it.

He stood up. Did he think this was going to work? No. Not really. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith or anything. He just expected for it all to go very wrong. Vlad losing his grasp on sanity wasn’t helping. What was their hold on the world going to be if Vlad killed most of the members of the kingdom?

Still though, Stuart didn’t have any better ideas. It wasn’t like they had a magical lie detector or something. Maybe they would be lucky and it would all work out. Maybe only a few guards had sided with Tallus. Stuart sure hoped so. If all that ended up being left of the Order was Vlad, Mathias, and himself, they would never get anything done.

Plus, he’d have to inform his contacts that his business would be closed for now. And if business was closed, the rage would bubble out of control. It was amazing to think what killing a person did for your stress level. There were bad men in the world that human laws had no way of dealing with—sometimes because of corruption, sometimes because the country’s laws protected them. Either way, Stuart was one of the ones who could make things right. And if that was taken away, well, he didn’t want to think about it.

If the Order was basically dissolved, the human world would have to learn to deal for themselves for a while. He walked down the hall and shoved another envelope under the door. He needed a stiff drink.

* * * * *

The heat of Azazel’s body against his back helped to keep him awake. The warmth felt so good, relaxing. The buzz of the pain now seemed to be endless, not even stopping when his heart wasn’t beating. He felt almost sea sick from the noise and its internal vibration, not to mention the sway of the horse.

Stormy was tied to Azazel’s horse and was following diligently behind.

The scenery stretched upwards toward the crest of the mountain. The snow sparkled like diamonds. It was that cold. There was a part of him that didn’t care if he ever saw snow again.

Finally, they reached the top. Mathias felt like his skull was going to split in two. The pressure was that bad. Nossy had to be close, but where?

He peered down the other side of the mountain. Down in the valley, there was a huge castle. Its stone was completely black and polished. Now that was a possibility.

“What is that?” Mathias asked.

“Snegurochka Palace. Snow Queen Palace. The Russian stronghold of a very powerful witch. She hasn’t been on this side in some time,” Azazel said.

Mathias blinked so he could see better. The fact that Azazel suddenly knew what it was didn’t escape his notice, but he was more interested in the queen and what she had to do with Nossy. “Where is she?”

Azazel pointed downward with his finger.

“Did Lilith ever come here?” he asked. This was the sort of place he could imagine her living in. Someplace cold and, well, evil-looking.

Azazel laughed. “The Snow Queen is not dead. So, to answer your question, no, Lilith did not come here.”

The explanation made no sense at all. If the Snow Queen was in Hell, then why wasn’t she dead? “So why would she be involved with Nossy’s kidnapping?”

Azazel’s eyes darkened. “That is what I intend to find out.”

They rode down the other side of the mountain. The trip down seemed so much easier than the trip on the other side. Every time Mathias blinked his eyes, they were a little closer to the castle. The closer they got, Mathias realized something odd. This castle had no windows and no doors. It was like solid rock had risen out of the ground in a castle shape. It was one of the strangest things Mathias had ever seen.

“How are we going to get inside?” Mathias asked. There had to be a door somewhere. And, well, he couldn’t imagine some magic spell to transport him inside by way of fireplace or something stupid like that.

Azazel set Mathias down gently off the horse. “That’s going to be up to you.”

“Me?” he asked. “Why me?”

Without even a hesitation, Azazel said, “Because you are the only one strong enough to break her spell.”

Mathias froze. Right now, he wasn’t strong enough to do shit. He could barely stand from the pain. “No one said anything about spell-breaking. I don’t even know magic.”

Azazel winked. “Sure you do.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

A few days later, the room that housed the Ring of Immortality was bedecked in white tablecloths and black accent pieces of cloth. The Ring, itself, was actually a monstrous stone tower that stretched well over 200 feet tall and had a diameter of 100 feet. Stuart had never bothered to find out what the exact dimensions were. He hadn’t needed to.

The sconces around the room were lit with candlelight to give everything a warm appearance. At the far wall, there was even a bat-shaped ice sculpture. It seemed like too much. Too over the top. How the people wouldn’t see this as a trap, he didn’t know.

Stuart looked over at Vlad. “An ice sculpture?”

Vlad was futzing with a flower arrangement near one of the tables. He was bedecked in a black suit that had a slight sheen to it. Stuart was reminded of a 1970’s Disco suit. The only difference was that Vlad was not wearing bell-bottoms.

Stuart kept his mouth shut. He could just see how much of a disaster this could turn out to be. He, himself, was wearing a normal modern suit. But then, Vlad always had been a bit flamboyant.

“What?” Vlad asked.

Stuart fought not to roll his eyes. “That’s overdoing it a little, don’t you think?”

Vlad turned to Stuart. “Overdoing what?”

Stuart allowed his eyes to roll this time. He needed to stop messing with the damn flowers and pay attention. “The ice sculpture?”

Vlad laughed. “Just you wait.
Overdoing it
is precisely what is going to make this work. A few will arrive to check things out. Then, they will let the others know that there is, in fact, a party.”

He turned back to the flowers and finished arranging them to what Stuart supposed was his liking. He grumbled to himself and tried to ignore Vlad’s oddness for a while.

If this did work, it was almost diabolical when he really thought about it. Inviting people to a party where they had the chance of dying was really cruel. “You really can be evil sometimes.”

Vlad turned around and smiled. “And to think this is mild compared to what I did long ago.”

Stuart shook his head. Even this was far beyond what he did in his work. He usually just up and killed whoever needed to die. He never played with his prey.

“You have the book?” Vlad asked.

The book was a bound leather thing that had every name of the guard, the messengers, and the Order members. Vlad had presented it to Stuart just that morning with a huge smile on his face. As far as Stuart was concerned, it was just a book, but apparently to Vlad it meant something else. As soon as the guests arrived, Stuart would make sure that the guest entered the room. Once the guest entered, the book would magically check them in and ward them against leaving the room.

Stuart hadn’t asked Vlad where he got the spell, and honestly, he really didn’t want to know. Still though, he could think of many situations, including the day Mathias captured so many people his first day as king, where that spell would have been useful. Too bad Vlad hadn’t been in the room to help Mathias. No wonder the kid was so messed up. And, well, it made him wonder what else Vlad was hiding.

* * * * *

“I almost forgot,” Azazel said.

Mathias was in the middle of approaching the castle. He groaned. He was half-way stumbling with the pain and now Azazel had to add something else to this whole thing? He turned around. “What?”

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