Demon’s King (High Demon #3)(23)
Author: Connie Suttle

"Will I ever see them again?" My lower lip trembled—I couldn’t control it.

"I’ll do my best to make it happen, baby." Teeg crushed me against him. I wanted to ask him if I’d see Gavril again too, but that would truly make me cry. He just held me tighter and rocked me gently, muttering nonsense into my hair.

* * *

"Well, well. Look what we have here." Erland walked around the two prisoners he held inside a powerlight cage. Erland Morphis was one of three warlocks who possessed the ability to form a powerlight cage. These two would not escape. King Wylend and Erland’s son Ry, were the other two strong enough to do it.

Wylend was reading the note that arrived with the two rogue warlocks. Teeg San Gerxon had sent them as a gesture of goodwill. Wylend had been searching for these, but they’d had power-seeker abilities, eluding all of Wylend’s special forces. How Teeg San Gerxon had managed to capture them was a mystery. Wylend wasn’t going to argue with the results—these two were a part of the small army of rogues Zellar had trained before getting killed.

"Which cores did you drain before you were captured?" Erland demanded of the two. They shrank back from Erland, although the cage provided some protection. They’d thought a powerlight cage was only myth and rumor. They were learning better, now.

"We didn’t drain anything—we did pull power away from a few," the shorter one grudgingly admitted. They weren’t going to get away from the King of Karathia or his right hand, Erland Morphis.

"Did you not realize that anything pulled from the core will upset a fragile balance? Did Zellar not explain that to you? Of course not." Erland tossed up a hand. "You’ve killed millions, more than likely, unless they start the exodus now. The climate will fail, plants and animals will die and then the people. Is that what you wanted when you decided to play your little power games?" Erland was dangerously angry.

"Zellar said it wouldn’t hurt if you took what you needed occasionally," the taller one snapped.

"There," Erland hissed, "is a reason that this is forbidden spellwork. It kills the planet from the very first tapping. It may take a while to die, but you’ve opened the drain. All life on those worlds will run out that drain now. It would take more power than you can possibly imagine to make it right again. Tell me the names of those worlds, so we may pass along the information. Do it now."

"What can provide that power?" The shorter rogue asked.

"The Larentii might do it, but as you know, they do not interfere. They will not lift their hands to save what you have destroyed."

"Why wouldn’t they save a planet?" The taller one huffed. He’d never seen one of the blue giants, but their abilities were legendary.

"They have made a vow of noninterference, you imbecile. Give us the names of the worlds you have destroyed with your greed and foolishness, and your deaths will be swift and painless. Failure to do so will force me to call my blood warlocks." Wylend examined his fingernails. The two rogues stared at one another inside their cage.

"Roorthi," the shorter one said. "Xordthe. Shillverr."

* * *

"What’s this?" Tory accepted the envelope from his mother, Queen Lissa.

"Something that came with my other mail—ever since they learned I like paper messages, I get swamped with the stuff. You should hear Grant and Heathe grumble about it." Lissa shoved her strawberry blonde hair behind an ear and went back to sorting through other messages she’d received. All of them had been carefully checked before they were handed to her assistants. One had come addressed to Torevik Rath, Le-Ath Veronis.

"How did they get my name and why would they be writing to me instead of you?" Tory’s face bore a puzzled frown as he settled on a chair in front of his mother’s desk.

"No idea." Lissa sat down, too—she’d been through a lengthy Council meeting already—Aurelius was grieving over Reah’s disappearance and Lissa didn’t want to put him through the stress of the Council meetings. Aryn had volunteered, but she’d told him that she’d handle the meetings for the next month. She needed to get a better grip on a few items anyway. Lissa watched as Tory ripped up the flap of the old-fashioned envelope, pulling out the contents. Tory drew in an audible breath as he examined what had been sent.

"What is it?" Lissa was around the desk and beside her son in record time—even for a vampire. Tory turned the paper so his mother could see, causing Lissa to draw in a breath. Two photographs printed on paper. Taken separately and at different locations. One was Reah, standing next to a pool in what appeared to be exercise clothing. The other, with very little surrounding him other than a white wall, was Gavril.

"They are safe," the enclosed note read. "They will be returned to you, if you will agree to a meeting in the future. You will be contacted with a time and place." No name was signed on the message. As soon as Lissa regained her voice, she was shouting mentally and physically for Gavin, Norian, Aurelius and anyone else who might be listening. Tory, though, touched both faces with a finger. "I love you," he whispered softly.

Chapter 6

"There isn’t anything. It’s like a robot prepared the message and then sealed the envelope." Norian had gotten his team of experts to work on the envelope and the enclosed photographs and message. No fingerprints, no body oils, no residual anything. For all Norian knew, it had been created in a vacuum. It had been a wrench for Tory and Aurelius to hand over the photographs. Lissa, too, wanted the one of Gavril back—he looked to be all right and much the same as he had when he’d left Le-Ath Veronis, heading for the private school he’d attended.

"Could you tell anything from Reah’s surroundings?" Aurelius asked. He was grasping at straws—even the Saa Thalarr said something was blocking their ability to Look for her and the Larentii had said the Wise Ones had issued a noninterference policy on the whole thing.

"That could be any pool anywhere," Norian grumped. "Perhaps a hotel pool, for all we know." Lendill walked in—Norian had sent a message to his Vice-Director, saying they’d gotten something on Reah and Gavril.

"I didn’t get anything from Hild Marolla—he’s hit a dead end too," Lendill sighed. Lendill had hopes that the journalist might open doors that would be closed to anyone bearing an ASD badge.

"Did you tell him that if he comes across Denevik, that Jayd wants to know immediately?" Lissa asked Lendill.

"Yes. I told him that the Kifirini King wants his subject to come home—all is forgiven," Lendill muttered, holding the photographs of Reah and Gavril in his hands. Lendill had even contacted his father, hoping Kaldill might be able to do something. Kaldill didn’t refuse outright, but then elves seldom did that. Kaldill had merely stated that things would likely work out. Lendill had been even more frustrated after speaking with his father.