Marie Harte - Aftershocks

“I can’t believe you three called me back for this.” Once again in Tanselm, Arim glared at his nephews, wondering if he’d regret temporarily turning them into stone for a few days of relative peace.

“You’re kidding.” Darius’ red eyes blazed with anger. “No ‘thank you’? Hell, Arim, we just found Cadmus for you. Ellie Markham.” He shook his head. “I worked with her for months. Right under my nose. I never would have guessed.”

Arim sighed and knew he had only himself to blame. “Cadmus has been staying with Ellie Markham, a Djinn. What I don’t know is where he’ll be when I return. He said he’d be at Ellie’s, but I know that hunted look when I see it. And then there was that unexpected conversation with Ellie’s father.”

“Ethim il Ruethe.” Aerolus nodded. “Alandra filled me in yesterday.”

“We’re really going to have work on your communication skills,” Marcus said coolly. “That’s the second time you’ve been holding out on us, Aerolus.”

“Yeah,” Darius added, his mouth grim. “I think you’re taking yourself a little too seriously. All that mage crap is turning you into a sanctimonious know-it-all, a little too much like…” He paused as everyone glanced at Arim. “Never mind.”

“You know, Uncle, it wouldn’t hurt for you to tell us what you know. That way we wouldn’t be stepping on your toes so often,” Marcus offered, his gaze sharp. “You look tired, and we’ll need you at full strength to withstand the next Netharat onslaught. It’s been too long since their last attack. Though I haven’t found anything to worry about, I can almost feel them readying to battle.”

Arim rubbed his eyes. He’d felt the same, that ‘Sin Garu and his minions were biding their time, waiting. Unfortunately, Arim had a bad feeling their wait had to do with Cadmus. So, yes, Arim worried. He was tired and troubled that his magic didn’t thrive as it should. Almost as if Ethim had cursed him, since their conversation, each time Arim reached out to Tanselm, the land pushed him away, back towards the between .

Now when he used his magic he felt spots of nothingness where Light had always flourished. In the past years, the spotty condition had been hit or miss, and the frequency of such anomalies within him used to be low. Now, however, he could feel Tanselm draining of her effervescence with his every call to power. In a pending battle against true evil, weakness could not be tolerated. What the hell had that damned Sarqua done? He swore the next time he saw Ethim il Ruethe, heads would roll.

Furious he still had no answers, he mentally searched for Cadmus but couldn’t find him on the mundane plane. Hell, knowing his stubborn nephew, Cadmus could be anywhere right now. The sex-starved fool had grown obsessed with Ellie Markham, so much so that even a possible return to Tanselm didn’t faze him.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Aerolus asked, his eyes bright, his voice deep, echoing within the stone walls. A haze of Shadow filtered through the air between them, seeking truth as it tried to infiltrate Arim’s Light.

Astonished, Arim quickly thrust his nephew to the far corner of his room. “You would seek to breech my safeguards? In my own home?” He glared at Aerolus, his festering frustration and worry coalescing into rage, obliterating his infamous control.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Darius growled at a now wide-eyed Aerolus.

“Arim,” Marcus said calmly. “Do you think we could ignore Aerolus for a minute and focus on Cadmus?”

“No, Marcus, I don’t,” Arim said coldly. Reaching out a long-fingered hand, he hauled Aerolus to him with a magical yank that had all three brothers eyeing him warily. Aerolus finally looked worried, and he had reason to be. Gripping his nephew’s collar in a tight fist, Arim shook him to make sure he had his full attention.

“Now, Arim—”

“Now, Aerolus,” Arim mocked, his emotions seething. “I don’t have time for this. Keep your Shadowy parlour tricks out of my mind and out of the castle. We still don’t know how vulnerable your mother is to a Netharat threat, and any use of Dark magic within the keep could summon ‘Sin Garu, whether we want him here or not.

“I’m fine,” he added with a snarl at his nephews until they dropped their gazes to the floor, one by one. “More than powerful enough to feed you three to the Next if you don’t stop acting like children instead of the princes you should be. I have too much to worry about without stroking your precious egos. You found Cadmus, great. Next time have Darius send it to me telepathically, and save me the time and energy of a return trip. Focus on protecting your mother, your affai and Tanselm. I’ll worry about our last missing Storm Lord.”

He could tell the negative power washing off of him made the three princes uncomfortable, but Arim did nothing to stem his displeasure. Aerolus actually thought to infiltrate his private thoughts? His nephews thought him too weak to withstand the minor sacrifices a warrior made when approaching battle? Lack of sleep and rigourous physical exertion were at times necessary to properly prepare. Nothing about this coming bout with ‘Sin Garu seemed out of the ordinary, or at least, it shouldn’t to the Storm Lords. They had no way of knowing Arim’s magic weakened every time Tanselm rejected his aid.

“Arim,” Aerolus began, trying to break from his uncle’s grip. But before he could say more, his face crumpled in a mask of pain.

Stunned, Arim watched as Darius and Marcus soon fell to their knees gasping for breath.

“Cadmus,” Aerolus whispered, shaking at the pain. “He needs us, now.”

Arim threw out every last breath of energy in his body to overcome the Djinn magic masking his absent nephew’s presence. For a heartbeat, he clearly saw Cadmus in the grip of extraordinary pain and under a Dark haze of power. Then the pain ceased as if it had never been.

Marcus and Darius shook off the hurt, and Aerolus sagged in his grip. Gently lowering Aerolus to a nearby chair, Arim tried again to fix on Cadmus but could not.

“He’s not dead,” Darius announced in a hoarse voice. “The pain’s gone, that’s all.”

“But what, by Light’s heart, could cause that kind of pain? And how the hell is it affecting us this hard?” Marcus wanted to know.

Arim grimaced, recalling all too well the wounds he’d once suffered at the hands of Dark Lords. His mind whirled at the possibilities, and the conclusions he drew made him sick with fear. That, coupled with Tanselm’s sudden need for him to leave her lands, told him more than he wanted to know.

“I’m going to find your brother. But I need the three of you to be strong here . Mark my words, ‘Sin Garu’s going to attack soon. He’s going to do it from within the grounds. I can feel it.”

“But how—” Marcus started.

“We’ll find the threat,” Darius promised, and Marcus slowly nodded.

Aerolus nodded as well, his gaze piercing as he stared at his uncle. “Mother and Tanselm will remain safe, but for how long, we can’t promise. You need to return as soon as you’re able. And you need to fill in those holes,” he added cryptically.

To fill those vulnerable voids in my magic. Well, well. So the whelp did sense Arim’s susceptibilities. Aerolus’ marriage to Alandra had yielded far more than love and Shadow magic, but an incredible insight as well.

“I will, thanks,” he added sarcastically, his mood lightening a fraction at the knowledge that the Storm Lords were indeed well-armed, even without him. “Don’t call me again unless it’s an emergency.”

They hastily murmured their agreement. Then suddenly, as one, they tensed.