Tayshren, his second-in command, met his king’s inquiry with a calm gaze. “While we have not witnessed their arrival in Aron-Lyr, we made a curious observation.” He exchanged a swift glance with Dhustan. “The air in the places where they gather carries a distinct scent. The scent of Chaos and magic. We have only encountered such a smell where the Veil between realms is thin, as if the Other is just within reach.” His words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
“The Other,” Zamani said, her violet gaze shifting to me. “Didn’t you and Belekoroz explore that mysterious realm together?”
“We did.” Lost in thought, I paused, attempting to remember if Belekoroz and I had ever encountered anything resembling the creatures that had attacked the villages. “But we never saw anything remotely like those beasts. Life is scarce in the Other, and nothing we found there was as horrifying as them.”
Sha’am shook his head, his discontent evident. “Nevertheless, Belekoroz’s knowledge would surely help solve this mystery.” He turned toward the king, his voice growing more agitated. “Once more, he has denied us assistance without reason. Will you let that stand, my king?”
A low growl of thunder betrayed Aramaz’s irritation at being questioned. Sensing another futile discussion brewing, I intervened before he could give the Warrior a harsh answer.
“It might be best if I talk with Belekoroz.” My eyes met the king’s. “I have a feeling he might listen to me.”
“Thank you, my queen,” Sha’am said with a respectful nod. “Let us hope you can instill some sense in him.”
Night had fallen when I arrived at Belekoroz’s tower. Unlike the other Aurea, he did not reside close to the King’s Hall. The Lord of Darkness had built his home out of black stone, its sharp silhouette cutting through the green hills surrounding Lyrheim like a knife. Rising high above the surrounding trees, the tower loomed over me like a menacing shadow as I approached its entrance under the waning moonlight. Though I had passed it countless times, I had never entered—never been permitted to enter—and mycuriosity was undeniable.
“I know why you are here.”
The smooth voice ringing out did not surprise me. As I stopped in front of the tower, a dark whisper had gently brushed against my skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through me. The shadows seemed to deepen around me, as if the very darkness were alive and aware of my presence.
I looked up in the direction of the voice.
Belekoroz sat on the balustrade above the imposing wooden door, leaning against the stone wall, completely at ease. Eating an apple. His sharp teeth gleamed under the moonlight as he took another bite. His skin was even paler, his hair flowing like midnight around his shoulders, blending with his dark tunic.
“Now, my queen,” he said, licking a trace of juice from the corner of his mouth. “Be a good little messenger, say your piece, and then leave.”
I ignored his insolence, keeping my expression pleasant. Had he purposely chosen this position to make me look up at him, knowing I hated it? Undoubtedly.
“There have been attacks on the Elvish villages around Lyrheim. The creatures that did it—”
“Reek of the Other,” Belekoroz interrupted with a huff, his dark eyes fixed on me as he leaned forward on his perch, the apple still balanced in his hand. “Which probably means they came from there, as you have surely deduced already.”
I narrowed my eyes, determined not to let him provoke me. “So, you know something about it?”
The apple crunched between his teeth as he took another bite. “And if I did?”
I bared my own teeth at him. “I would have to chastise you for not helping us.”
That got his attention. Straightening up, he tossed the apple into the air, where it dissolved in a burst of dark fire. Without warning, he leaped down to me, the air tightening with his power. Not stepping back cost me, but I managed, his presence suddenly all too close as he landed right in front of me. A shame that he would only tease me if I remade my physical body a few inches taller to better glare at him. Sometimes I was terribly tempted.
“And how would you do that?” The question filled the small space between us as much as the overwhelming force of his dark magic. Before I could answer, he tilted his head, taking me in—the supple leather armor hugging my body, the thick braid of my fiery hair. A slight smile played on his lips. “You don’t look hurt. I’m sure half a dozen gods and their Anima were enough to deal with this threat.”
“People died today,” I said softly, not averting my gaze.
It only drove a mocking laugh from him as he stepped around me, still hovering close. “They are mortal,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s what they do. And then they are reborn.”
I thought of the anguished screams of the young Elvish mother tearing through my heart as Namtaz and I failed to save her little son. The sight of her cradling her lifeless child, her desolate sobs echoing in the chaos, was seared into my memory. I doubted that the promise of their loved ones returning to the light of the Allfather and entering the circle of life anew would console those left behind.
A sudden sharpness entered Belekoroz’s tone, his eyes locking onto mine. “I hear you and Aramaz made your little Elves quite long-living. Are you too tender-hearted to let them die, or do you regard them as more deserving than other mortal creatures?”
I watched him over my shoulder, a familiar annoyance at his taunts stirring awake within me. “It was the Allfather’s wish.”
“Of course.”
A hiss behind me. The darkness closed around me in the blink of an eye as he moved so swiftly that I had no chance to escape. Keeping the force of my own Light from flaring up instinctively was a challenge.
“And we would never do anything against his wishes, would we?” Belekoroz murmured against the sensitive skin of my nape, his warmth seeping through my leathers.
I had learned that the best way to handle his constant provocations was to respond in kind. I would never back down or submit to him.
