Caroline Spector - Worlds Without End

"But…"

"What can he do?" I asked in Theran. "He's a child."

"What better way to get your guard down?"

"Aithne would not sacrifice his son. Not to me."

Caimbeul shrugged, then gave Glasgian one last hard look before casually moving off toward his bedroom.

I slipped off my high-heeled shoes, giving a little sigh as I did so. Murderous things, high heels. Im- practical too. Who could run or defend herself in them? I stayed away from them as much as possible.

Ignoring Glasgian for the moment, I went to the portable^ bar. My feet sank into the thick carpeting and I wriggled my toes against it as I poured myself a healthy snifter of cognac. I didn't bother to ask Glasgian if he wanted any. He'd already helped him- self.

I was tired and didn't relish any more verbal wrangling. Lugh Surehand had worn out what little sociability I had in me. What I wanted right now was to be alone. The Council meeting would be held day after tomorrow, and I would need all my energy for that.

I turned and looked Glasgian over. Here, one on one, he seemed less cocksure and full of himself. For a moment, I felt a surge of protectiveness, but I pushed it aside. Those sorts of things were always messy, in my experience.

"What do you want?" I asked. It came out sharper than I'd intended. He looked a bit wounded.

"I… I was wondering… That is… uh…What are you to my father?" he blurted out.

I walked over to one of the large armchairs that flanked the couch and sat down. The polished cotton fabric was cool against my back.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because he hates you more than he loves my mother."

"They are separated now, are they not?"

He nodded and looked more like a child than the man he had just become.

"I am his past," I said. "And he would rather not remember it. I don't think anyone reaches a reason- able age without some regrets. Not if you're doing it right."

"But, were you in love? He won't say anything about it. Just that you are something awful. When I saw you, I couldn't believe you were the one he'd been talking about."

"What did you expect? Horns sprouting from my forehead and long fangs?"

"I guess I thought I'd see something that would explain, but all I see is you. And you don't look so terrifying."

I laughed. "I'm surprised you're allowed out on your own, Glasgian. You are refreshingly naive, but I fear you're a bit stupid as well."

He flushed deep red at that.

"Where did you get the rather peculiar idea that you could tell how dangerous someone is by their appearance? Good heavens, not from your father, I'm sure."

"I didn't come here to be insulted," he said.

"No, you came here to invade my privacy and your father's. Not terribly polite of you, if we're counting coup. If that is the reason you came, you'd better go now. I'm tired and I have no patience for indulging a child's curiosity."

I thought this would send him on his way in an in- dignant huff, but he surprised me. He got up and came toward me, sinking to his knees in front of me. Taking my free hand in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. Quite a workout that hand was getting tonight, I thought.

"Do you think you'll send me on my way with in- sults?" he asked.

"Yes, that was the idea."

"It won't work. I saw how you looked at me when you first saw me. Don't deny it, you wanted me."

I snatched my hand away from him. "Stop it," I said angrily. "This has really gone far enough. I was startled for a moment because you look like your father. For obvious reasons, I didn't want to encounter him."

"Yes, I do look like him," he said softly, lean- ing toward me until I could smell the whiskey and cinnamon on his breath. "You could pretend I am him. Imagine it, a way to go back and undo the past."

I stood up and stared down at him. How very like Aithne he looked at that moment. But he was only a simulacrum, a faint copy of his father. And twisted in such ways that I wondered at what had caused it.

"What sort of rotten plan do you have in mind?" I asked. "You thought you'd come here, seduce me, then run back to Aithne and throw it in his face. I can't imagine what your father may have done to make you angry enough at him to do such a thing."

Glasgian wrapped his arms around my legs and buried his face in the material of my skirt. "It's more than that," he said. "When I saw you tonight, something happened to me… I've never felt like this."

With a quick jerk, I put my knee to his chest. He toppled over, letting go of my dress. I danced away from him, putting several pieces of furniture be- tween us.

"It is only my respect for your father that keeps me from treating you as you deserve. This display was shameful and not worthy of either me or your father. Get out before I lose my temper."

He gave me a smug smile as he straightened his clothes. "It doesn't matter that nothing happened here tonight. I'll tell Aithne it did."

"You are an evil little shit," I said flatly.

He gave me a low bow, but before he could straighten, something caught my attention. Spinning about, I saw that the doors to the terrace had blown open. There, standing in the doorway was the Hor- ror, Ysrthgrathe.

He was as I remembered. Cloaked in deep brown, power radiating off him like a corona. Though his face was shadowed by his hood, I knew how it would appear: cadaverous, with the sienna flesh pulled taut against his skull. The collapsed nose, the yellowed teeth, the heavily muscled arms that burned my flesh as he held it. Under the cloak was his tail. Thick as a man's waist, with protruding bony ridges.

"Ah, I see I must again rescue you from those who would deprive me of my pleasure," Ysrthgrathe said. "You look quite faint, my dear. Is it such a shock to see me again after all this time? I'm wounded. I thought you would have expected me by now."

The air was gone. It felt as though everything was going black. I thought I heard Glasgian's panicked cry, but it seemed to come from some far-off place. I struggled to overcome my panic. In the seconds it took me to regroup, Ysrthgrathe had slid across the floor and grabbed Glasgian.

Backing away from me, he held Glasgian against his chest as a shield. Around Glasgian's neck were Ysrthgrathe's long fingers tipped by razor-sharp nails. Glasgian was making little hiccuping noises.

"Let him go," I said. "This doesn't concern him."

Ysrthgrathe threw back his head and laughed. It bounced off the walls and echoed inside me like a low-throbbing ache.

"Aina, it has indeed been too long. I've missed these little tete-a-tetes. Do you think I don't know who this child is? Come now, I'm not that much of a fool. The irony is almost too perfect. Is it not?" Then he gave a sigh of such perfect rapture that I felt as though a shaft of ice had been driven into my heart.

"How long have you denied me this most perfect of pleasures?" he asked. "I've been waiting for you patiently. You've denied me for far too long. And now you shall pay."

He began to draw his nails across Glasgian's neck. The blood welled up after a moment and trick- led down into the white shirt. Glasgian gave a moan, and a dark spot appeared on the front of his trousers and grew.

"Stop it," I shrieked.

Just then, there was a violent flash, a purple jolt of energy, behind Ysrthgrathe. The force of it lifted him and Glasgian off the floor and hurtled them to- ward me. I dropped to the floor, but still, my shoul- der was caught by one of them as they flew by. The force of the impact rolled me over and over until I came to rest against a table.

I looked up and saw Caimbeui standing just be- yond the door to his bedroom. There was a crackling of energy around him. Then I heard another sound 204

and turned my head to see what it was. Ysrthgrathe's robes burst into flame. With the briefest nod of the head, he extinguished the flames, and turned to Har- lequin with a smile. But he'd also let go of Glasgian, who was making whimpering noises and clutching his throat.