“I’m going to need a PowerPoint after all of this,” I said after about two dozen encounters. My head was swimming with information.
Then came the panicborn, beings who could influence the emotions of individuals and crowds, known to cause mass hysteria or subdue an army to their opponent’s advantage.
“Careful around them,” you said as one approached us. I felt the tendrils of their influence reaching out to me like a soft caress. It was similar to Mater’s seduction, though hers was limited to individuals.
“Shadowborn,” you said once the panicborn had passed and the next tribe was approaching. They were severe in their appearance, all angles and sharp lines, slender to the point of looking starved, and dressed in silver and white. “Avoid them at all costs.”
I froze as I saw a face that I recognized. Orcus, the same shadowborn I’d questioned only a couple of months before. His eyes still had a rheumatic look about him, but his wounds had mostly healed, and he was able to walk unassisted. The elder man nodded at me in acknowledgement, then directed his gaze at you.
“We meet again, Henri,” he said in a low, guttural rasp as though his vocal cords had been shredded. Similar to the interrogation room, there was an unsettling energy emanating from him, desperation or hunger, and I worried for the humans in our midst.
“Orcus,” you said shortly.
The shadowborn smiled, showing off his rotted teeth. “Your mother went to great lengths to have me here. Why do you think that is?”
“Surely not for your hygiene,” Lucian quipped.
“I’d imagine it’s for your prophetic abilities,” you said and shot Lucian a look of reprimand.
“My visions seldom err.” Orcus turned to grip my hand in both of his skeletal ones with surprising strength. Like the handshake of death itself. “You are a clever one. Did you find my guidance useful?”
“Yes,” I said soberly. “I owe you one for sure.”
“Perhaps we are on good enough terms that you can convince your protector not to embed his knife in my stomach?”
“I will certainly try,” I assured him, but the murderous glare you cast at Orcus was not very promising. “For your information, we don’t drain humans here. The punishment for that crime is exile.”
“Your mother warned me you were dangerously soft-hearted,” Orcus said. “Perhaps too human to rule over a divine empire.”
“Or maybe I’m just human enough.”
You gestured to where our mother was pretending not to eavesdrop on our conversation. “I wouldn’t keep your benefactor waiting.”
The shadowborn leaned in close enough to kiss me, and I forced myself not to shy away. I could smell his putrid breath, like maggots on rotting meat.
“Bibere venenum in auro,” he whispered.Drink poison from a cup of gold.
Then he drifted away, leaving me with chills all over and a shuddery feeling in my gut. Was that an order or a warning?
“What did he say to you?” you asked, fear and anger hardening your face.
“Nothing,” I lied.
“How do you know him?”
“I interrogated him.” I didn’t go into any more detail and was relieved to see that the beastborn were up next. The dozen burly men and women could have been body builders or professional athletes judging from their physiques. I almost didn’t recognize Ashur in the mix because he’d shaved off his beard and trimmed his hair. I rushed forward to greet him, but before we could embrace, he dropped down to one knee and bowed his head reverently. The other beastborn quickly followed suit, so I stood there in awkward silence as everyone in the room turned to watch.
“I’m sorry that I failed you, master,” Ashur said in a somber tone. He must have been referring to what happened in the mine.
“Ashur, stand up,” I said and when he did, I threw my arms around him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It’s because of me you were taken.”
“No, it’s because of Azrael I was taken.” And my mother as well, though I didn’t mention it. Ashur hated her enough already.
“I gave your father a royal burial in keeping with the sunborn custom. I’ll take you to his tomb someday, if you’d like.”
“I’d like that very much.” I wanted to learn more of what Ashur knew about sunborn rituals. “Look at you. You’re practically chatty now.”
