Blood Reunion

"I w-watched Friesianna die," Parlethis groveled before me. "After we killed Narissa, someone came. I cannot describe this person, they forbade it, and I cannot break that command. This person stood over Narissa's dismembered torso, and then gazed angrily at Queen Friesianna. 'A swift killing is one thing,' this one said. They were quite angry, we could tell. 'Torture is something I will not tolerate,' this one added. And then, Friesianna and all her guards except me disintegrated. I was left alive and ordered to explain to you that Friesianna and her bullies are no more. They—and your grandmother—are dead."



Parlethis giggled, then, and it was a crazed sound. I could see that he was terrified. Terrified that whoever had killed Friesianna would return for him. I had three guesses who'd done this, and two of them didn't count. Only a Larentii or someone with a greater power could accomplish this kind of feat. The same one who'd healed the core had likely done this deed. I stared at the cowering Elemaiya and shook my head. If this member of the Mighty kept it up, he (or she) would draw the attention of our enemies very soon. I sighed and nodded to Aurelius, who folded the prisoner away.



"Cara mia?" Gavin stole inside my study.



"Honey?" I lifted an eyebrow at him.



"Aurelius sent mindspeech. He said you might need comfort."



"Your sire is worth the weight of Le-Ath Veronis in gold," I sighed. "Narissa's dead."



"He told me that, too," Gavin was beside me quickly, lifting me and settling me against him. "My love, tell me that she did not deserve death."



"She did," I nodded. "But she was tortured by Friesianna first. Friesianna has apparently met her demise because of it," I added.



"One of hers did this?" Gavin sounded puzzled, but he placed a kiss on my forehead anyway.



"No. Somebody else showed up. Gavin, this is beginning to worry me. If the Mighty tip their hand before all three are together, we could be destroyed."



"I know we cannot speak of this with any of the others, except perhaps Kiarra, Adam and Merrill. I have the idea that Belen has approached Kiarra at least, and now those three are worried, too. I have not the notion where this might end. Are they playing a longer game than we know?" I looked up into Gavin's dark eyes as he spoke—he was deeply troubled by this.



"I don't know." I buried my face against Gavin's shoulder.



"Love, do not worry so. We will face these troubles if they come. Meanwhile, we must trust that things will come out right in the end."



"Yeah. Can we go to the kitchen? I want ice cream." I didn't add that I also wanted to forget the whole, sorry mess. That likely wouldn't happen for a while.



* * *



"Narissa's dead." Griffin had asked to speak with Cleo and Kyler at Merrill's old manor in Kent. Griffin sat behind Merrill's desk in his study, recalling that Lissa's lessons from Merrill had occurred there. Merrill hadn't changed much inside his study over the years, and the letter opener, which resembled a Roman sword, still held a place of honor on Merrill's desk.



Cleo and Kyler sat in Merrill's guest chairs, staring at their grandfather. They resembled their now-deceased grandmother greatly, with long, auburn hair and nearly gold eyes.



"Em-pah, we knew it would come," Kyler admitted. "We just didn't know when, exactly."



"She is dead, as is Friesianna and her guards. Except one," Leather creaked as Griffin leaned back in Merrill's chair. "Friesianna had Narissa tortured and dismembered. Someone took offense at that act and separated Friesianna's particles. I was wondering if either of you had a hand in that."



"As a healer for the Saa Thalarr, I can't," Cleo pointed out.



"I was elsewhere when it happened, and wouldn't have interfered anyway," Kyler muttered. "I don't argue with Narissa's death, I just have a problem with how it was accomplished."



"Those responsible for it are dead." Griffin stood and turned to stare out the window behind the desk.



"Do we have any guesses who killed Friesianna?" Kyler asked.



"No. Kiarra may suspect and I hear that Belen has spoken with her, but as I am retired, I am no longer privy to that information."



"Maybe we'll find out someday," Cleo offered. "Did you talk to Conner about it, Em-pah?"



"Conner won't talk to me. Not since I fucked up with Toff and Trell."



Cleo and Kyler exchanged worried glances.



* * *



"When will we see Nissa and Trik again?" Toff asked. He, Ry and Tory were spending the day in the Queen's library, doing research for an assignment. Rain was falling on an off-day. They'd planned a trip to the light side for a picnic and some rock skipping on a pond, but the rain had spoiled their plans.



"Uncle Shadow said he'd bring them tomorrow—Trik needs more shoes, so we're going shopping. Sissy said he spilled some of the spelled resin they use to make the gray jewels on two pairs of boots," Ry said.



"I wish I had mindspeech," Toff grumped, tapping the end of a paragraph on his comp-vid with more emphasis than it deserved. He wanted to contact Nissa whenever he felt like it. Ry and Tory didn't realize what a gift they had.



"Maybe Mom can give it to you. After the baby comes," Tory responded with a grin.



"She can do that?" Toff asked, his eyes wide.



"Mom can do a lot of things," Ry snickered. "When she isn't pregnant."



* * *



"They didn't yell that much and I get new shoes," Trik gloated as he accepted a newly created protection jewel from Nissa.



"I'm glad it was enough to make three protection jewels. It was easy to pull the resin off your shoes, but that stuff discolors. Dad already saw that." Nissa's eyes danced mischievously. "I just want you and Toff to have protection, and I wanted to replace my jewel, too," Nissa proclaimed as she pulled a second protection jewel necklace over her head. It would be keyed to Toff when she saw him the following day. "You'll be able to protect yourself before long, but this will help until then." Nissa brushed back curly, light-brown hair and leaned against the wall with a happy sigh.



She and Trik had met inside Trik's new bedroom—Shadow had cleared a space for Trik inside his and Nissa's spacious suite. They'd settled on the floor at the far side of Trik's bed, in case Shadow walked in. Again, Nissa had made the protection jewels without her father's knowledge.



"I know what these are worth," Trik brushed fingers over the dark gray, faceted jewel that Nissa had fashioned from spelled resin. "My grandfather was always angry about these," he added. "The Belancours couldn't do anything close to this kind of work."



"You'll learn how to do it yourself," Nissa vowed. "I think Daddy is more than happy with the power you have."



"You think so?" Trik's eyes held a gleam of hope in them.



"Yeah. Daddy's happier than I've seen him in a while," Nissa nodded.



* * *



Lissa's Journal



"I can see you've already heard we're going shopping," I lifted an eyebrow at Ry and Tory, who were handing me expectant looks.



"But we haven't heard where," Ry wheedled. I swear, that child was going to be just as handsome as his father, and could wrap anyone around his nimble fingers already. Erland said that Ry had a future as an ambassador for Karathia—if that's what he wanted. Wylend, my grandfather, was already hatching a plot to send him to a private school on Wyyld when he was eighteen. That school trained the children of Kings, Queens, presidents, prime ministers and anybody else in charge of anything. It also cost a fortune to attend, and Wylend was prepared to pay.



My only problem with that idea is that I knew Tory would want to go with his brother and Garde was holding back—he didn't want to send Tory if Tory couldn't turn Thifilathi. Any position Tory might hold on Kifirin required that he be High Demon in most respects, and that included the ability to become Thifilathi. I assumed Garde also meant that Tory wouldn't be considered High Demon if he couldn't blow smoke whenever he got his underwear in a knot.



It made me angry every time I thought about it, and Garde and I had an argument when Garde first brought it up. Most High Demon males turned by the age of twelve. Tory hadn't. I accused my High Demon mate of being prejudiced against his son because he was only half High Demon; Garde hadn't defended himself very well against that charge and ended up blowing clouds of smoke before skipping away. It was still a sore spot between us.



"Where are we going, Mom?" Tory was now begging.



"If you must know, we're going to Hraede again. It's safe there and Rigo is going with us. Drake and Drew are folding us in and out, but they have training to do tomorrow so they can't stay with us." I moved forward to hug my High Demon child. He was so tall, I could only put my arms around his waist. "Shadow only gave us tomorrow afternoon to spend with Nissa and Trik, after their lessons in the morning."



"So we have to hurry to make the most of our day," Ry nodded as I pulled away from Tory.



"We'll have to hurry if we make more than two or three shops," I agreed. "If either of you need shoes or clothing, now is the time to make a list."



"I guess you haven't changed your mind on tattoos," Tory teased.



"Look," I poked him in the chest with a finger, "If you're twenty and can't seem to stop yourself, I won't stop you either. But if you want good ones, like Drake and Drew's, then you need to go to Falchan and take your uncles with you."



"All right," Tory high-fived Ry over my head. Rolling my eyes, I walked away from both my tattoo-crazed sons.



* * *



"Do you think I depend upon you for all my information?" Tandias gazed angrily at Zellar. "I managed to place an obsession on one of the Queen's palace employees. She and her children will be visiting Hraede tomorrow, with only one vampire attending her. We will attack her there. It will be much simpler than taking you past the shield around Le-Ath Veronis. Once the Queen is dead, our goals will be accomplished, wouldn't you say?"