Aces and Eights
Part 9: Reaquaintance
After a time, I heard the quiet
tread of footsteps entering the room, and I began to regret ever having met the
man who had given me the mystery Trump. It seemed that, in accepting the card, I
had been dealt a dead man's hand in more ways than one.
In the time I spent immobile, I had
been unable to effect any means of escape. The field holding me seemed to
attenuate the energies of my ring, so that my awareness through it extended no
further than my hand. Had I been able to use that device, I might have been able
to extricate myself from the spell. As it was, however, I was stuck.
As the footsteps drew nearer, I
could do nothing but wait. I wondered if whoever was approaching would decide to
get it over quickly, and simply slip a silver dagger through my ribs and into my
heart. If so, there was little or nothing I could do about it.
A woman entered my line of sight
from the left then, and came near me. She had hair the color of dark chocolate,
pulled back and tied behind her head with the type of thin red ribbon you might
see on a candy box. She wore knee high boots, tight black pants, and a loose
gray shirt. Around her slender waist was what appeared to be a metallic snake,
clutching its own coppery tail in its mouth. The serpent's single visible eye
was a tiny ruby. She smiled, revealing an over-developed set of canines that
looked as sharp as mine. She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue, and, over
the course of a few seconds, the power holding me faded in certain areas. I
found that I again possessed control of my body--but only from the neck upwards.
I shifted my jaw, loosening it some.
I focused on the woman, rolling my neck muscles. And suddenly it struck me like
a whip--an instant feeling of recognition. I had seen this woman before, only
once, on a night several years ago. Then I remembered where... "Hello,
Kyla," I said quietly.
Her grin widened. "I am
flattered that I made such an impression on you."
I realized then that the man I had
taken Luke's pendant from had spoken with the same strange accent. Hindsight...
She watched me for a moment, boldly
running her eyes across my entire form. "In a way, this is good."
"You'll forgive me if I don't
see it that way."
She laughed robustly. "You and
I share a bond, you know. I made you what you are, wolf man."
Curiously, I watched her, trying to
get a general feel for what type of personality I was dealing with. I knew so
little about her. Was she the savage killer that she had seemed back then? My
only interaction with her had been a violent one, but it had occurred during a
time in which I stood between her and her target. Also, I had killed two of her
companions that night. Would she decide to settle the score by immediately
ripping my throat out, or had she since mellowed?
What had I gotten into? Had this
entire affair, starting with the phoenix thieves, been an elaborate trap, set to
ensnare me? That did not seem likely. More probable, I thought, was the
possibility that Kyla still had it in for Luke for the same reasons that had
prompted her on the night I had been infected with lycanthropy. Perplexed, I
asked, "What's your connection with Luke?"
Her eyebrows jumped up into a raised
position, then she looked thoughtful, as if considering whether or not she
should even bother answering me. "I do not have any such affiliations,
really."
"What? Surely, this thing
doesn't revolve around me?"
She laughed. "Of course not.
You were right in assuming that Luke of Amber was the primary concern of our
operation."
"Our operation?"
"Yes." She held a hand up
before her face, regarding her nails. "The man I work for is your
employer's enemy. His name is Merequist, and you will meet him shortly."
So that was it. Someone had it in
for Luke, and I was in the way. Perversely, I was almost disappointed. It made
me feel like a secondary character, or a supporting actor. Since Kyla was being
so open, I decided to ask another question. "Does this have anything to do
with the occasion during which we, ah, met?"
Her face assumed a more serious
expression. "We were very close at that point to actually finishing him
off, but you interfered, aiding him. He escaped, taking you along with him, and
was able to recover. Afterwards, alone, he staged a highly successful counter
attack, bringing our forces to ruin, and injuring Merequist badly. In fact, I am
almost positive that Luke thinks him dead. Now, though," her mouth formed a
sinister smile, "he will learn otherwise." Suddenly, she stopped, a
look of concentration spreading over her features. She mumbled something, and
extended a hand.
The shimmering apparition of a man,
presumably Merequist, appeared next to her, holding her hand at face level. When
he had gained total solidity, he kissed her knuckles lightly. In his other hand,
he held Kyla's Trump. Merequist turned to face me.
His most striking features, I noted,
were the tattoos covering every inch of exposed flesh on his body, including his
face. There were many designs visible, mostly done in reds and blues. The images
on his face were symmetrical, his left cheek being the mirror image of his
right. His hair had been shaved into a thick black mohawk, creating more space
for the designs spiralling along his skull. He stepped forward, releasing Kyla's
hand, and came to stand before me, an appraising look on his face.
"Hello." He smiled at me. The sleeves of his purple tunic ended just
above his elbows, and I could see more designs running along his arms. "You
are Nigel?"
I nodded.
"The trusted agent of the King
of Kashfa. I have no desire to sound impolite, but I will admit that I had hoped
Rinaldo, or Luke, if you will, would come after my men himself. That would have
moved him away from the place where he is most powerful."
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"Oh, do not fret, dear guest.
Even though things did not go perfectly, I will have him soon enough. Until
then," he said with a smirk, "you may enjoy my hospitality."
"I hardly think that I qualify
as a guest--this is not the most hospitable home I have ever been in,
either."
He gestured about him. "This is
not really one of the finer areas, I assure you. This place is dedicated to an
ongoing attempt to have my revenge against Rinaldo. I have spent years effecting
designs that will facilitate my vengeance."
"What could Luke possibly have
done to you that would cause you to go to such great lengths to achieve his
demise?"
His face became reflective, the
illustrations there moving when he relaxed the muscles in his cheeks and around
his mouth. "My grievance with Rinaldo is not a recent thing. It goes back
many years, to a time when we were young. You see, at one time, I was his
father's apprentice."
"You studied under
Brand?!"
He smiled at my look of shock.
"Oh, yes, for a number of years. Along with two other young sorcerers. One
of whom, like myself, hailed from Chaos," again he smiled, relishing my
surprise. "The third had originated in some odd realm that possessed a
power completely alien to either the Logrus or the Pattern. You see...there is
much that you do not know."
I watched him, surprised not only at
the things he was saying, but also at the simple fact that he was being so
talkative. There was a gloating manner about him, though, that seemed to prompt
such verbosity. Also, by his arrogance, I could see that he thought of me as
less than threatening. This was perhaps due to the fact that I was, in his eyes,
only a Shadow person. I decided to make every effort to surprise him.
"So what did Luke have to do
with any of that?" From what little he had told me about his father, I had
been left to infer that Brand was not even around that often. Which, considering
what I have heard others say about Brand, was probably a good thing for his son.
"There were brief periods when
the little brat was hanging around, constantly meddling in everything. It was
during such a time that he ruined a very important experiment of mine. In my
anger, I struck him, and might have actually have gone further, when--"
"Brand came along, eh?" I
chuckled, visualizing Luke, as a kid, harassing some egg-head mageling, screwing
up what probably amounted to the mystical equivalent of a school science
project. When I looked up, there was a very dark look on Merequist's face. I
stopped laughing, but smiled as I spoke. "So now I suppose you're going to
tell me that you've spent your entire life trying to get even."
He practically snarled his next
words. "And if that was indeed the case?"
I shook my head. "Then it
sounds like you've wasted a great deal of your life."
He slapped me then, backhanded, and
my mouth was immediately awash with the taste of blood. The force of the blow
was numbing.
"You are a fool for mocking me,
and when you have served your purpose, I will oversee your execution
personally." He turned and stormed away, heading for one of the room's
arched exits. "Watch him," he hissed to Kyla as he left.
I looked at the woman before me.
There was a merry twinkle in her eyes. "He has quite a temper, doesn't
he?"
"It would seem so," I
replied. I refrained from spitting blood upon the floor.
"He will make good on his
promise, too."
"Maybe. Seems I heard you say
something similar, though, a few years back."
Her expression of merriment faded.
"Understandable, given that you had just put a silver bullet through the
heart of my younger brother."
I sighed, wondering which deities I
had annoyed to invoke such rotten luck. "I didn't know, of course."
"No, you did not, and you were
acting to save your own life." Her face became wistful.
What was this? An emotional response
from a werewolf assassin? I wondered if I might, given enough time, be able to
exploit it, feeling only a few brief pangs of guilt as the thought entered my
head. "Tell me, how did you end up here, in this role?"
She looked up at me, her features
again sharpening. "The casting department was all out of fairy princess
parts."
I laughed. Then, considering her
remark, I asked, "Just how long did you live in the Earth Shadow?"
"For several years, while Luke
was in school."
"You were after him even
then?"
"No, mostly, at that time, I
was assigned to watch him. He had several protectors around."
I nodded, though I was not sure of
whom she was referring to. I decided to switch tracks. "So what does
Merequist have in store for him now?"
"That's privileged
information," she said flatly, derailing my line of inquiry.
I was quiet for a moment, and a
heavy silence hung between us. As if to fill the brief period of awkwardness,
she continued. "As Merequist indicated, we assumed that Luke would come
after his pendant personally. It was hoped that, once he caught the thieves and
discovered the Trump they carried, he would come through to this tower. It
seems, however, that the people of his little Shadow are more important to him
than we guessed, since he chose instead to stay and work out Kashfa's current
problems." She paused, studying me briefly.
Returning her gaze, I nodded slowly.
"I see."
"When he did not follow the
thieves, but sent you instead, an alternate plan was enacted. We sought to
capture one of his most useful agents--you--for use as bait. To speed this up,
Merequist had the thieves separate. One of them delivered the Trump directly to
you, hoping that you would use it immediately. You did not, of course, but ended
up here after a time, anyway. All that remains now is to wait for Luke. And he
will come to rescue you, don't you think?"
"We are friends..."
"Yes. Friends." For
several seconds, she stared hard at nothing in particular. Then, abruptly, she
looked up and spoke. "You could be here for quite some time. If, that is,
Luke, does not try to reach you soon. And until Merequist informs me otherwise,
you will remain rooted to that spot." She pointed a sharp red nail at my
feet. "However, I will partially free you so that you may eat. Are you
hungry?"
"Yes." Though my answer
was truthful, I would have said 'yes' even had I been stuffed from a recent
feast. Any small release from my current position, I knew, represented the
possibility of escape.
As if aware of my thoughts, Kyla smiled grimly. "I will return shortly." She mouthed a string of soft words, and, concurrently, I felt my neck stiffen again. Leaving me completely immobile, she turned ninety degrees, and walked off to the left, passing beyond my field of vision.