Page 17 of Descended


  “But—” I began but a low curse from Kristoff cut me off.

  “It’s blocked,” he growled. “Someone has blocked the entrance to the Council Chamber.”

  “What does that mean? Do we have to go all the way back?” I hoped not. I’d never been claustrophobic before but here in this tight, narrow, lightless space, my heart was pounding and my palms were sweating.

  “No. Just back to the exit beside the official Council Chamber entrance,” he said. “I don’t like this.”

  “You think it was blocked on purpose?” I asked anxiously as he turned us around and led me down a twisting side corridor I hadn’t noticed before because I can’t see in the freaking dark.

  “Possibly. Or maybe someone on the housework staff who didn’t know any better put something across the entrance. Impossible to know—we’ll have to be even more cautious.”

  He kept a tight grip on my hand and soon we were standing in front of another wall—or I assumed we were since Kristoff stopped and started tapping and knocking again.

  This time, a doorway swung open, letting in some much needed light and fresh air. I wanted to get out of the corridor in the worst way—I felt grimy from being in the cramped, dusty space and my heart was pounding like crazy—but Kristoff made me wait until he looked.

  “All right,” he said at last in a low voice. “I don’t see anyone coming in either direction. We just have to go down the hall and turn right—the entrance to the Council Chamber will be right there. The guards will know me and let us enter. Come on.”

  He pulled me out into a large, golden hallway with colorful jewel-toned frescos on the walls and ceilings. There were fancy statues carved from some pure white stone with silver and gold streaks running through it and the floors were made of something black and shiny that might or might not have been marble.

  It was extremely intimidating, especially considering I was wearing scrubs that had been fresh two days ago and I was dusty and dirty from our trip through the secret passage. I doubted that anyone would think I looked like the new Empress. They were more likely to think I was a scullery maid escaped from the kitchen. Wait—did they have scullery maids here?

  My random thoughts were interrupted as we ran down the corridor and turned the corner. Ahead of us I could see two vast doors made of carved, dark wood, accented with gold handles.

  But standing between us and the doors was something that made my blood run cold.

  It was a Majoran male, probably an inch or two shorter than Kristoff and he was holding a knife in one hand—a bloody knife.

  Behind him were two crumpled figures in armor a little like Kristoff’s—they must have been the door guards but now they were obviously dead.

  “Hello, Captain Verrai.” The Majoran blocking us from the Council Chamber doors had a mad glint in his eyes, which were bright red. “What have you got there?” he asked, nodding at me. “Would that be the new Empress? She who is to carry on the male oppression in the Majoran system?”

  “Get away from the doors.” Kristoff pushed me behind him and reached for his sword, all in one swift movement.

  “Ah-ah-ah. I don’t think you should try anything, Captain.”

  I’d been so focused on the long, bloody knife in his right hand, I hadn’t noticed his left. Now he drew it out from behind his back and I saw he was holding a small, black sphere with two lights blinking on it—both of them green. As I watched, he lifted it over his head and pressed something on it. There was a click and one of the green lights turned red.

  Kristoff’s eyes widened.

  “No,” he said hoarsely. “You can’t!”

  “Oppressor! Oppressor of the males!” the bloody-handed Majoran shrieked at me. He pressed the sphere again and the second light turned red. Then he wound up like a baseball pitcher about to throw a curve ball.

  Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

  Kristoff dropped his sword and drew a dagger instead. With a flick of his wrist he cast it, almost casually, towards the would-be assassin. I saw it bury itself to the hilt in the other man’s throat. A gout of bright red, arterial blood spurted out, leaving a trail than ended just a few inches from my feet.

  Then I couldn’t see any more because Kristoff dropped to the floor, dragging me with him, and pinned me beneath his big body.

  Being pinned beneath him wasn’t cozy or comforting this time, as it had been during my bout with the Burning Blood. This time his molded breastplate dug into my back and I could hardly breathe with his huge, muscular weight on top of me, pressing me down against the hard, cold marble floor.

  I didn’t have time to protest though—there was a deafening roar and a blinding flash that seemed to fill the whole world. I shrieked in fear but the explosion was so loud, I couldn’t even hear myself. I felt Kristoff stiffen on top of me, trying to cover me more, to protect me completely.

  Then my breath ran out and everything went fuzzy around the edges—I think I might have grayed out for a little while because I don’t remember what happened next.

  All I know is that I woke up to a very anxious Kristoff kneeling beside me and patting my cheeks.

  “My lady? Charlotte?” he was asking in a hoarse, worried voice. “Are you all right?”

  “Are you?” I asked, and coughed. “You were on top of me when…when it went off.”

  “Charlotte!” He pulled me to him, enveloping me in a hug so tight it was hard to breathe. “I thought I’d lost you,” he muttered, his deep voice thick with relief. “Oh, Goddess…”

  Then the double doors of the Council Chamber were thrown open with a bang and at the same time, the sound of booted feet running along the corridor came from the other direction.

  “Captain Verrai?” An anxious voice asked.

  Kristoff released me, making sure I could sit up on my own before he turned to the guard who was speaking.

  “T’zorin? What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “The sentries at the Council Room door didn’t answer voice checks. I started this way and then I heard what sounded like a shock grenade by the Council door. You all right?” the guard asked, wide-eyed.

  “Fine.” Kristoff picked himself up and held out a hand to me.

  As he pulled me up, I saw that the backs of his arms were speckled with tiny drops of blood. “No, you’re not fine—you’re hurt!” I exclaimed, reaching for him.

  “Just a few contact wounds. They’ll heal,” he said, pushing my hands away when I would have examined him.

  “Kristoff—” I began.

  “What is the meaning of all this?” a voice roared.

  Looking up, I saw a very old man with a long blue beard streaked with white standing in the center of the opened Council Room doors. He was wearing a black robe and a heavy gold chain encircled his neck. He was completely bald but his incredibly bushy blue eyebrows almost made up for his lack of hair.

  “What’s happening out here? Who dares disturb the Investiture of the True Incarnation?” he demanded in that same, loud and angry voice.

  “I do, Head Councilor Tannus .” Kristoff threw back his shoulders and took me by the hand. “Because you’re Investing the wrong female. This is the True Incarnation of the Goddess-Empress. This is Sundalla the 1000th!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Charlotte

  Have you ever had that dream? You know the one—where you’re at a job interview or a really important meeting at work where you want really badly to impress everyone. And then you look down and realize you’re completely naked?

  That was what I found myself going through when Kristoff dragged me into the extremely fancy Council Room to stand in front of a bunch of enormously important-looking people—only it wasn’t a dream.

  No, I wasn’t completely naked, but I wasn’t exactly dressed appropriately either. My scrubs were tattered and dirty—streaked with dust and grime from our run through the secret passage. My hands were bloody and when I walked, I felt a squishing in my right sneaker.

/>   Looking down, I saw that the would-be assassin’s blood had somehow found its way to my scrubs and shoe while I was pinned under Kristoff on the floor. From the knee down my right scrub-leg was a dripping mess of scarlet and so was my once-white tennis shoe. When I walked, I was leaving one bloody footprint everywhere I went on the pale gold, expensive looking rug.

  Had I thought I looked like a scullery maid before? Now I looked like a cross between a dumpster-diver and a refugee from a terrorist attack.

  My head was still ringing from the explosion and I felt fuzzy with shock. I was a complete mess and yet I had to stand there in front of the Council of Wisdom, which consisted of twelve old men, all dressed in long black robes and looking every bit as scary as the Head Councilor, and try to look royal while Kristoff told them who I was supposed to be.

  “I’m sorry, Captain Verrai.” The Head Councilor had resumed his seat, which was at the head of a large, horse shoe-shaped table that encircled half the room. It reminded me of those long, raised podiums they use during Congressional Hearings. “I’m sorry,” he continued. “But the True Incarnation has already been found and brought forward.”

  “She cannot have been,” Kristoff said angrily. “This female has the rainbow aura of the Goddess-Empress.” He nodded at me. “She and no other is Sundalla the 1000th.”

  “So you’d have us believe.” The Head Councilor frowned. “But as I said, we already have the True Incarnation.”

  “Whoever claims this is lying.” Kristoff’s eyes flashed. “Who ‘found’ her and brought her forward?”

  “Why, I did, my good Captain Verrai.”

  A tall, thin Majoran with angular features and sharp, cat-like eyes came forward. He had a long, curling, blue-black mustache that made me think of a pirate in an old movie and his hair was neatly coiffed into an elaborate swirl on top of his head.

  “Morbain,” Kristoff growled, glaring at the other man. “I might have known it was you. Was it you behind the three failed assassination attempts on the True Incarnation? The last one right before the doors of the Council Room?”

  “That’s Prince Morbain to you, commoner,” the man with the pirate mustache snarled. “And I don’t know anything about any assassination attempts. Why would I bother trying to get rid of your little…well, whatever this is…” He looked me up and down and sniffed derisively. “When I have found the True Incarnation and brought her forward myself?”

  “And who did you find?” Kristoff demanded. “Let me guess—a female from your own household who you’ve had complete sway over since birth.”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, yes,” Morbain said mildly. “But you know how it is—sometimes the sweetest blossom grows right at your very feet. You have only to bend over to notice it. So it was with my lovely Eucilla. Come forward, my dear.”

  He beckoned to a figure standing in the shadows at the corner of the room. She stepped forward, into the light, and what I saw made my heart drop straight down to my bloody sneakers.

  She was absolutely gorgeous.

  Long waterfalls of platinum blonde hair reached almost down to her knees and framed a pair of vivid green eyes. She was tall—six feet at least, which made me feel like a runt. And she had a perfect figure—all long and lean and willowy—seriously, she could have been a super-model back on Earth.

  She was wearing a jewel-toned turquoise gown that wrapped around her size-two body tightly and flowed down her non-existent hips like ocean waves. A little gold and diamond tiara pinned on top of her perfect hair completed the look.

  And I had thought I felt grubby before.

  “This is the True Incarnation of the Goddess-Empress.” Prince Morbain extended his hands as if to show off the girl’s perfect beauty. “I think it’s rather obvious when you look at them together that your female must be an imposter,” Verrai.”

  “No, it is not obvious.” Kristoff seemed to be hanging onto his temper with both hands. “Because I have the Vision. This female…” He gestured at the tall, perfect girl who was looking down her nose at me disdainfully. “Cannot be Sundalla the 1000th because she has no rainbow aura. In fact, she has no aura at all—she is not even a La-ti-zal.”

  “So you say.” Morbain’s eyes flashed an angry red. “But I say differently—I too have the Vision. And I have seen the truth. Eucilla here is the new Empress.”

  “You have no Vision except for your own greed for power!” Kristoff snapped.

  “You dare not speak so to me! I am a Prince of the Blood!” thundered Morbain but Kristoff ignored him.

  Turning, he addressed the Council of Wisdom instead.

  “Are you really prepared to believe this male?” he demanded. “After all the assassination attempts he plotted against his mother? After all his treachery and lies? His mother forgave him his duplicity and the attempts on her life, but I cannot and neither should you!”

  I sucked in a breath at that—I couldn’t help it. Suddenly Dr. Churika’s words came back to me—something about how the old Empress had never had daughters, only sons and none of them were any good? Was this Prince Morbain really the son of Sundalla the 999th? And had he actually tried to have his own mother killed? How awful! It was like something out of The Tudors or maybe Game of Thrones.

  “How dare you?” Morbain was spluttering with rage. “How dare you make such accusations? My mother is not here to protect you any more, Verrai! I’ll have you strung up by your own guts for such treasonous talk!”

  “It’s only treason if it’s not true,” Kristoff growled.

  He turned back to the Council.

  “So Morbain finds a weak female he can bend to his will, dresses her up and brings her to Court. And you’re set to crown her Empress without so much as putting her through the Trials of Ascendancy?”

  “But Captain Verrai,” the Head Councilor said, frowning, his bushy brows pulled low. “She has passed the Trials.”

  “What?” Kristoff looked at him in disbelief. “All three?”

  “Well…no.” For the first time, the Head of the Council looked a little uncomfortable. “But she passed the most important one—the Orb and Scepter. They flew directly to her hands and as Prince Morbain pointed out, there is no clearer indication of the True Incarnation than the affinity of the Royal objects for the Goddess-Empress.”

  “Prince Morbain pointed it out and you decided to go along with it?” Kristoff growled. “Which of you are on his payroll, Councilor Tannus? Answer me that! How much did he pay to have you vote to skip the other two Trials and move on to the Investiture?”

  “Why…you…how dare you accuse us of accepting bribes?” spluttered the Head of the Council and many of the other Councilors started shouting too. But one on the end—a younger Majoran with mahogany skin and thoughtful brown eyes—stood up and banged the podium table they were sitting at for silence.

  “Councilors—Councilors!” he shouted. When they were quiet, he turned to face them. “Captain Verrai has made some accusations here today,” he said. “Accusations which cannot go unanswered.”

  “They most certainly can go unanswered,” exclaimed Head Councilor Tannus. “We can send Verrai to the deepest cell in the dungeon and throw his grubby little imposter out on her ear!”

  “Careful, Head Councilor,” Kristoff growled, stepping in front of me. “Anyone who lays a finger on my Lady will have it cut off. And as for ‘throwing her out on her ear,’ well, she’ll be in the right position to do that exact thing to you when she’s proved to be the new Empress.”

  “You seem very sure of your choice, Captain,” the younger Councilor with brown eyes said.

  “I am.” Kristoff lifted his chin. “I would stake my life on it. She has the rainbow aura—no other does.” He cast a contemptuous glance at the tall, gorgeous blonde girl who was standing beside Prince Morbain.

  “Very well,” the young Councilor said. “I submit to this Council that the word of Captain Verrai cannot be taken lightly. He served our past Empress, Sundalla the 999th faithfull
y for ten cycles and she never had cause to doubt him. Can we do less than to listen to him now?”

  “Why should you listen to him—because he served my mother?” Morbain demanded. “She was half mad by the time he came into her service. Old and blind and crazy as a—”

  But he didn’t get to finish because Kristoff was suddenly right in front of him, a dagger blade at the other male’s throat.

  “You will not speak so of my old mistress,” he growled, his eyes blazing with fury. I had never seen him so angry. “She was wisdom and dignity and beauty personified and she deserved a hell of a lot better than a miscreant like you for a son!”

  “Get your hands off me, commoner!” Morbain demanded, but I thought his voice sounded shaky.

  “I’m not touching you—my blade is,” Kristoff said, his deep voice cold. “And I’ll ask you to remember that speaking ill of the Goddess-Empress—even one who has Ascended to the Heavens—is an offense punishable by public flogging or even death.”

  “Enough!” the Head Councilor snapped, motioning at Kristoff. “You’ve made your point, Captain Verrai. It is the judgment of this Council that both your, uh, candidate…” He motioned at me with distaste. “And Prince Morbain’s candidate shall both undergo all three Trials of Ascendancy tomorrow.”

  “All three? Tomorrow?” Morbain looked aghast. “But we’ll have no time to prepare!”

  I sort of felt the same way myself. What were these Trials, anyway? Were they anything like the MCAT—the Medical College Admission Test? If so, I would need a hell of a lot more than one night to get ready.

  But Kristoff was shaking his head and glaring at Morbain.

  “If your female is all that you claim, she will need no preparation,” he growled. “Charlotte needs none.”