Children of Wrath

Aejys watched the bradae ritually secure the seven sa'necari to the stakes, and remove the spellcords. Once the priests had finished and withdrawn, soldiers doused the necromancers with oil and set the faggots blazing. When the fires reached the sa'necari, the screaming started — they screamed a long time. The nibari keened and shrieked in anguish as their masters burned, several falling prostrate on the ground to curl up in balls of suffering. Aejys' expression remained as impassive as stone, standing there with her arms casually folded across her chest. This would not give her back her child or her mates, but these; at least, would take no one else's loved ones. They would shatter no more souls. Her lips curled in grim satisfaction as flesh on their faces began to melt, the greasy layers of fat separating from the meat and bone, filling the air with a scent reminiscent of roasted pork.

The King of Rowanhart did not look like the other Sharani beyond her height. Magic had changed her. She had wings that were azure feathered with crimson tips. Her once bronze skin was now an iridescent black, sapphire hued. Her smoky black hair had turned white with a fringe of black and flame around her face. Only her features themselves had remained unchanged by the magic — except the ears, which were now pointed. Her deceptively young face — Aejys was a mere forty — was just a little too squared at the jaw and too wide at the cheekbones to be called oval, and too rounded and long to be called square.

"Aejys!" Anaria shouted.

She turned at her name, seeing first the Regent, and then Bryngaryn with Josiah in her arms. All other thoughts went out of her head. "Josiah."

Aejys had a brief flash of their flight from the shifters go through her mind. Her hands and body had still been crippled, for she had not yet reached the blade she carried, the sacred blade called Spiritdancer. Josiah had been guarding her back as she fled. He was yelling at her to run. He had his blades out, killing them and then he fell. They swarmed over him.

She had thought him dead and committed an act of blasphemy in her despair, accepting the blood of Hoon in hopes of rising undead to seek her vengeance after they captured her. The image and the knowledge of what she had done haunted her dreams and waking. It was the source of her anger at Laurelyanne earlier and her contempt for the nibari. And it grew out of the depths of her sense of guilt, for her liege-god had forsaken her. Although Spiritdancer had cleansed her of the taint, she still felt as if she would never be clean. The nibari's filthy devotion to their masters sickened her, craving the touch of their fangs and bodies. Only the fact that nibari counted as human made her spare them. They would not get their freedom from this: the Regent's Sharani would sell them into slavery. Nibari could never be trusted with freedom.

"Josiah." Aejys pressed her face to his, getting no response, and then she looked to Laurelyanne.

"They hurt him very bad, Aejys. And he's overtaxed himself. We should take him to Norendel where I can care for him better."

"That's what I've come about, Aejys," Anaria said. "I've three requests for you to pull back to Norendel. Your settlers are en route to Norendel and should arrive within two or three weeks. Also, that High Priest of Willodarus, Tehmistoclus, wishes to conference with you, and so does Carliff, something about your owing him a debt."

Aejys was silent for a long time. There was nothing here that she wished to deal with. This may have once been a valley of her ancestors, but like the Rowan Mar'ajanate, which had been given over to the Wrak Clan by the Sharani saer'ajan, she had no desire to own it. She had Rowanhart, a kingdom she had established out of the virgin wilderness of the Northwest Coast. Her Sharani settlers would have farms and land there. She had many duties to others, although her heart was no longer in it as strongly as last winter.

"I can more than handle matters here, Aejys," Anaria assured her. "Go on, my friend, get your new life firmly planted, tend your orchards like your little gardener used to. You've babies coming I hear."

Aejys brightened. Her half-Valdren lover, Tamlestari carried her twins in the Sharani fashion, sired by her slain mate Brendorn, Laurelyanne's son. Aejys has passed the children to Tamlestari in the Valley of St. Tarmus with the brilliant magical energy of the kyndi flaring hot between them. Sharani required three parents to produce viable offspring: sire, bloodmother and wombmother. That necessity made their marriages triadic when they chose to marry. "Yes. That would be best. Laelyn, find your ma'aram and tell her to get our people packed up. We're getting out of here."

"If Hoon or Mephistis escaped through Danae, I'll catch them," Anaria promised. "They killed my daughter and I'll catch them."

"There's no chance they might find the heir?"

"None," Anaria responded grimly. "I've hidden my niece where the Hellgod himself could not find her. Teakamon, Shepherd of the Wilds, defends her. Reynan is safer than the saer'ajan herself."

That satisfied Aejys. "Godspeed, Anaria. Fair winds to you, Gryphon of Danae."

"Healing to your lover, my friend."

"Thank you."

Aejys started to turn away and then paused. "I have met some Euzadi. It may be that, if your sister still lives, I can find word of her."

Anaria's tired face dropped years. "If you could get me the smallest certain clues to finding her, I would force the Saer'ajan to allow me to go after her. Zaren never intended this exile to be permanent. That's why she told her to wait in Doronar. But the Lionhawk was always so damned stiff-necked. Yes, see what you can find out. I would be grateful."

GODWAR CENTRAL

Children of Wrath