The possession also allowed the host to harness and use the limited technology of the gods. Although not as powerful as an incarnated angel in his prime, his dying avatar wouldn’t stand a chance in battle against the Nekrums’ host.
The night grew late; the candles had burned out.
Montague left in a hurry. He needed to speak to Olivia about what he had found and it didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night. If she was asleep, he would wake her. When he pulled the library door closed, he felt an eerie presence, but continued to turn the key to lock it.
“By Gabriel! You scared me.” Montague’s heart skipped. Demitri was standing nearly underneath him, quietly, with his arms folded behind his back. Montague felt nervous, carefully watching Demitri’s every tick.
“I wanted to make sure you made it back all right. You were stumbling a bit on the way out of the party and your staircase isn’t the easiest to climb, especially at our age. Too much wine?” Demitri asked.
“Maybe not enough. Thank you for your concern. That’s very kind of you.” Montague needed to remain calm and act natural. He said what he probably would have said on any normal occasion. If Demitri noticed Montague sneaking out of the ballroom, he was obviously watching him. There were a million questions streaming through Montague’s mind: Why is Demitri really here? Does he know I suspect him? Montague couldn’t help it and glanced down at Demitri’s bandage and noticed that it was freshly wrapped. “Is there something I can help you with, headmaster?”
“The council awaits your presence,” Demitri said.
“A council meeting? At such an hour?” Montague thought it might be a trick. The council never met this late.
“An emergency session. There was a man arrested.”
“The dungeons have plenty of room. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” Montague asked. The new kingdom had set new rules for law breakers—without banishment. The kingdom leaders felt that by exiling criminals, they were simply creating soldiers for the enemy. The builders of Ikarus constructed a secure confinement to temporarily house offenders, depending on the crime. Death was now the price one paid for committing murder.
“The accused may be the one responsible for the recently missing children. The queen is on her way, Mr. Speaker.” Demitri bowed.
Even though Demitri, the new headmaster of science, was also expected to attend all kinds of council meetings, Montague refused to walk with him but rather dashed ahead, as Demitri stepped aside.
Outside, the air was crisp and the clouds reflected purple light reaching across the horizon like fingers yearning for another’s touch. A group of night watchmen, wearing chainmail suits and black undercoats, nodded to Montague as he approached.
“Where did they catch the offender?”
“In the southern village near the gates, my lord,” the guard said.
Montague was still not inured to being addressed as ‘lord’. It felt surreal.
A dark mist scurrying from the southern plains began to breathe. Flocks of birds frantically raced northward as fast as they could, not once looking back to the place from which they’d come. They were fleeing from something, fighting with the wind to get ahead of each other.
He looked off into the distance. From the height of Ikarus Mountain, he had a stereoscopic visual of the land. Even the islands off the southern coast a hundred miles away were visible. But they looked back with eyes of flame and smoke: one bright light blinking from the western border and another from the east. At first Montague didn’t know what he was seeing until the watchtower at the tip of the plateau suddenly lit up.
A watchman barked, “Fires! On the islands! Fires!” he shouted. “Faux Tower is lit!” Night guards took out their horns of hollowed antler and joined the alarm.
“Alert your men! Search and secure the entire kingdom!” Montague commanded. He glanced one last time at the flames raging across the islands of Grale and Mern. It reminded him of the fire that he had walked through at Illyrium.
When Montague arrived at the council room, it was empty, damp, and the candles fought a heavy draft. The long, bowing table curved down the room on both sides, and the ruler of Men would sit in the middle, at its peak. Montague was the first to arrive. Even though he was slow to climb the steps, he was the closest to the room.
Queen Olivia Volpi appeared at the tip of Montague’s shadow with Lord Alexandal Duncan, her betrothed and general of the armed forces, escorting her.
The queen had fallen in love only a month after settling in Ikarus, and married on her twenty-fourth birthday. Although Alexandal had gained significant power, his authority was still much less than that of a king. He didn’t have Volpi blood and was still considered merely a lord. If he and the queen had a son, then the boy would become the next king of Men.
Moments later, the representatives of Mern and Grale arrived and scurried to their seats, eager to discuss the urgent matter. Not only was a captive man awaiting judgment, they were dealing with another attack on the civilized community. The people of Ikarus, Grale, and Mern were all emigrants of Illyrium and were considered one human family. If one were attacked, the other two would intervene.
The door behind the seated council creaked as it opened. A young scribe entered, holding a much anticipated letter. The present council members were starving for an update.
Montague read the first few lines to himself, and then stood up to address the anxious council. “This message is from the Fins of Mern. Both Grale and Mern are being attacked.” There, he paused. “Count Arland Cole is dead.”
“What of our maiden?” An ambassador of Mern frantically interrupted.
“It says nothing of the royals’ wellbeing,” Montague said. He swallowed hard and continued. “Women and men in black gowns are taking children and setting fires everywhere.” Montague hesitated. There was one last sentence on the backside of the letter, written in different, anxious writing;
