On the Edge (The Edge #1)(66)
Author: Ilona Andrews

"I think we all could use something to drink," Adele said.

ONCE iced tea had been distributed, the mood in the room lightened and Rose breathed easier.

"Why would Casshorn do it?" Adele asked, sipping her tea.

"Why is good, but I want to know how come the beasts aren’t killing him," Grandma said.

Declan drained half his glass. "It’s difficult to understand Casshorn. He’s mad, but he has flashes of genius. He’s amoral, but he takes pains to be polite. He’s failed at everything he ever tried. Casshorn expressed the desire to be a duke like his father. Centuries ago titles used to be hereditary. Now titles are administrative posts that carry a great deal of civil and military responsibility. One can’t inherit a title. One must earn it and pass the requisite examinations proving his or her competency in order to claim it. The higher the rank, the more stringent are the requirements. Sons and daughters of nobles often receive very specialized education from birth in anticipation of trying to assume the title. They have an advantage, because they watch and learn as their parents govern, in the same sense as the baker’s son knows about baking bread from watching his father make it. But no matter how good their test scores are, nobody, not even an heir to the throne of Adrianglia, can assume a title without first providing service to the realm. Some choose civil, some military, but all have to serve. The mandatory period of service is seven years in the military and ten for the civil service."

"Military for you, I take it?" Tom Buckwell asked.

Declan nodded. "Casshorn passed the examinations at fifteen. Did spectacularly well, in fact. All that remained was the period of service. Casshorn attempted the Airforce, because it is considered the most cerebral of all military occupations."

"Airforce like planes?" Lee Stearns asked.

"Airforce like flying beasts," Declan said. "Wyverns, man ticores, and so on. Within a year Casshorn was booted from the Airforce Academy for plotting to kill one of his instructors. That effectively barred him from any military branch except for the Red Legion, who will take anyone. Whether you’re a wanted criminal or a certified lunatic – they don’t care. They can take an average person and in two years turn him or her into a mass murderer. Just deploying them often causes panic in the enemy. The Red Legion discharged Casshorn in six months, deeming him completely unsuited to military service."

"To screw up like that takes talent." Tom Buckwell shook his head. "He must be special."

Declan grimaced. "He certainly thinks so. With the military crossed off his list, Casshorn attempted the civil service. He was fired from Elizabethian University for plagiarism, having served a little over twenty months. Two days later, someone set the campus on fire. Then Casshorn took a sabbatical for three years. Then he attempted manufacturing research. To make a long story short, in the meantime Casshorn’s younger brother, Ortes, finished his seven years, serving in the Andrianglian Navy with distinction, and Casshorn hadn’t even managed to pass a half mark. Their test scores were tied. Because they were siblings, Ortes had the option of signing a waiver to give his brother five years to complete the service requirement. A peer title can’t remain vacant for long. All peers have duties, and someone has to fulfill them."

"So what happened?" Rose asked.

"Ortes was willing to sign the waiver, if his father wished to give Casshorn another chance. The Duke decided he needed to think some more on the matter and invited his sons to Yule Dinner at the ducal manor. Most of the nobles and their families were present at the celebration. I was eight, and I remember it vividly. Casshorn’s demeanor was bizarre. He seemed not to know where he was. Midway through the evening he stood up and started talking. He ranted like a lunatic and attacked Ortes’s wife, calling her a whore and blaming her for a number of odd and illogical things. Apparently, years earlier, when Ortes and Jane were affianced, Casshorn had made some advances toward her and she turned him down, but to hear him tell it, the incident had happened earlier in the evening, not nearly a decade ago. Obviously, no waiver was signed, and Ortes became Duke shortly after his father retired. Casshorn later claimed that someone had added a narcotic to his drink, but by then it was too late, and he seemed to accept it. Apparently, he found a new way of obtaining the power he always wanted."

Jeremiah frowned. "Why the Edge? Why our small neck of the woods?"

Declan rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. "The Edge has no strong police or military force. Any resistance he encounters will be fragmented, since nobody but Edgers care what happens between the worlds. As to what his purpose is, I don’t know. I think he may have started with some idea of conquering the Edge, building up an army of hounds, and avenging himself on all the people who wronged him in Adrianglia. However, whatever he has done to earn immunity from the hounds is changing him. I’m not sure how much of his humanity remains."

"I think his conquering plans bit the dust," Rose said. "He simply wants to absorb magic and eat us now. He kept his face hidden, but his hands looked like paws. He has claws instead of nails. If he conquers the Edge, it will be so he can feed."

"He can’t be reasoned with," Tom Buckwell said.

Lee turned to him. "How do you know?"

Tom’s bushy beard moved around a bit. His face looked sour. "Fred Simoen sent Brad Dillon up to him with gifts."

"He what?" Grandma drew from the table in shock.

"I told him not to do it," Tom growled. "I said from the get-go that it was a lousy idea and it wouldn’t end well, but there was no reasoning with him. Fred thinks he can buy the world."

Rose thought of Casshorn raving on about the delicious man he had received as a gift. Nausea squirmed through her. "Casshorn ate Brad, didn’t he?"

"He sure did," Tom said. "At least that’s what Fred said, before he and the whole clan peeled out of the Edge like their arses were on fire."

Rose rubbed her face. Brad was slime, but to die like this . . . Nobody deserved that. She thought of the boys being eaten and had to clench her hands under the table.

Declan’s large hand settled on her fist. He rubbed her hand with his dry warm fingers. "So you do know where Casshorn is?"

Silence fell around the table.

"He’s in Moss Ravine," Adele said. "The Wood started dying there about six days ago."

Lee threw his hands in the air. "And he needs to know that why?"

"It’s his mess," Emily creaked. "Let him clean it up."