Promise of Blood

All of this was for naught if Julene manages to summon Kresimir.

“I can’t find Nikslaus,” Olem said.

Tamas turned. The soldier had not even attended to his own wounds. He stood straight as he could, trying to meet Tamas’s eyes. He did not hide his pain well, which meant there was a lot of it. He fumbled in his shirt jacket for rolling paper and tobacco. They almost slipped out of his blood-slick fingers. Tamas took them from him and rolled Olem a cigarette, then lit it with a match from Olem’s breast pocket. Olem took a puff and smiled gratefully.

“Attend to the wounded,” Tamas said. “Nikslaus is not a threat anymore. Attend to yourself first. You did well, my friend.”

“But Nikslaus…” Olem said.

“My vengeance will be that he continues to live,” Tamas said. He smiled, and he knew it was tinted with cruelty. “That will be enough.”

Chapter 40

Only aftepr climbing stairs for what seemed like hours did Taniel realize the full scope of Kresimir’s palace. It was, as Del said, a husk—the giant shell of what must have once been thousands upon thousands of rooms and halls and galleries. Only the volcanic outer crust remained, along with the enormous staircase that spiraled up along the inner wall. The ash thinned as they ascended. Their footfalls began to echo, and Taniel soon realized that the pinpricks of light above were windows. He forced himself to climb hard, fast, not caring if Del kept up or not.

In the near-utter silence Taniel felt as if time were suspended. He thought he saw pale colors flicker in the shadows, like ghostly auras of long-dead magic. Every now and then, puffs of ash rose like phantoms. As they neared the top, he saw windows, yes, but they were too high above the staircase to shoot from, and there was nothing to climb to reach them. He kept going. The walls closed in around them and the staircase narrowed. They reached a platform, bathed in light, blackened by soot, and as wide as a ballroom. Taniel saw the roof arch above them and the slits of windows high up the walls.

Taniel slumped against the wall and waited for Del to catch up.

“Where?” Taniel asked when the monk arrived, panting. He lurched forward and grabbed Del by the hem of his robes. “Where? You said I could shoot from up here. Point me to some damn windows!” He shook the monk hard.

“There!” Del wailed. He closed his eyes and flung a hand over Taniel’s shoulder.

Taniel let go of Del and turned around. A chill crept over him as he reevaluated the room. A cold hand seemed to touch his heart.

This was Kresimir’s throne room. A dais lay at the end of the hall, thirteen steps up to a place where sat a blackened chair. He saw light behind that chair.

Taniel hurried up the dais steps. He passed the empty throne and found a doorless archway. He gathered his courage and entered.

The room beyond brought him to a sudden stop. He gasped, mind overcome. The room was well lit, fully furnished. Tapestries hung on the walls. There was glass in the windows, and a four-poster bed in the center of the room. Velvet-cushioned chairs and gold-rimmed tables. He’d tracked soot onto a white rug. Taniel might as well have stepped from a cave into Skyline Palace. He stumbled.

“You left Bo behind?” a female voice said.

Taniel felt faint. Julene stepped in from a balcony.

“Yes, ma’am.” Del appeared at Taniel’s shoulder.

“And the girl?” Julene said, a sneer on her lips.

“Guarding Bo.” Del stood straight, his head held high. He no longer shook. He no longer even looked like Del. The youth of his face faded, leaving wrinkles behind, and as Taniel watched, the false monk pulled a pair of Privileged’s gloves from his pocket and tugged them on.

Julene strode to Taniel. She put one finger under his chin and lifted up his head to look into his eyes. He felt ill. Dead inside.

“I had a feeling you might chase me up here,” she said. “Glad I left Jekel behind. What was his plan?” she asked the Privileged.

“Shoot enough of us to keep you from summoning Kresimir,” Jekel said.

“That might have worked,” Julene admitted. “It takes a lot of sorcery to pull Kresimir between the Nether that separates worlds.”

Taniel felt himself sway. He longed to snatch for a pistol. He might be able to at least kill the false monk. His fingers didn’t want to obey. He was defeated. He knew it.

“Why?” Taniel asked. He took a couple of breaths, trying to find the words.

“Summon Kresimir?” Julene rolled her eyes.

“No. Why this dog? Why the ruse? He could have just as easily waited and killed us all. Why not kill me now?”

Julene shrugged. “If your father manages to survive the coming pitfire, I will keep you as some leverage. He’s not resourceful, but he is stubborn.”

Taniel tried to come to terms with what she was saying. “Just kill me now,” he said.

She tapped his neck with long nails. “I will if I need to.” She raised one hand. Taniel closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them, only to receive an open-handed slap. He felt her nails rake at his skin.