James Davis - Circle of Skulls

"I apologize, my dear," the voice said, changed and out of Jinn's mind, followed by the appearance of a bald, tottering old man with spotted hands clasped before him. Wide, almost manic eyes blinked in the light above a curving, white-toothed smile. "The whisperers were quite loud just then. Did you hear? Very interesting indeed! I feel I am close to discovering some sort of pattern in their-why, dear Quess! You look absolutely horrid! And who is your friend here?"

"Jinnaoth, this is Briar-," she began, but the old man raised a quick, long finger.

"Mister," he prompted.

"Mister Briarbones," she finished, but Jinn held back, suspicious, sword still in the hand he might have offered to shake in any other circumstance, but the old man did not offer either, a detail Jinn dismissed as his mind was still torn between the well-lit chamber and the undead sentinels in the dark at his back. "When I felt there was no more I could learn from the masters at the House of Wonder, I found old Briar here. He has been… supplementing… my studies for a few years now."

"Indeed, and an astute student she has been," Briarbones said with a wink as he turned to a tall cabinet and brew pot by the west wall.

"This is all very well and good," Jinn said, uncertain as to where to keep the point of his blade and still unsure if it shouldn't be kept on Quessahn. "But we are in a bit of-"

"Care for tea?" Briarbones said, ignoring him. "I, for one, can only barely tolerate the stuff, but for guests I do make exceptions."

"I am no guest," Jinn said, his patience drawing to an end as he glared at Quessahn. "And this is no time for idle chatter or cups of tea!"

"Jinn, please, we should make some time-," Quessahn replied but was cut off by the old man.

"Very well," Briarbones said. His voice changed again, becoming stronger, deeper, and far younger. His eyes danced with a strange light, shining slightly as he continued. "Jinnaoth Ir'Gadohn, an odd surname, not of this world and, unless my studies are mistaken, not of any natural world known, but of places between worlds, realms closer to that of raw creation than those of rock and water. But you keep the name anyway. Through each life and death, those gold eyes, the symbols on your skin, and that strange last name never change, do they? Yes, deva, I know of you." Briarbones edged closer, the veins in his eyes squirming beneath the clear, soft layer of lens over his light gray irises. "Now have I proven that I may be worth your time and patience? That is, should I choose to assist you at all."

"Briar, I'm sorry," Quessahn said, shooting Jinn an angry glance. "I've come about the recent murders that we spoke of some time ago, but Jinn has come for-"

"Sathariel," Briarbones finished, still staring at the deva. "The Devourer, the Winged Pit, the Hunger of Asmodeus, oh yes, the deva's vendetta is known to me, as are those of his previous incarnations. The whispering souls you hear in the angel's presence, deva? Some of them are your vengeful predecessors, a few of them having wielded the very same blade you choose to rudely bare in my home."

Jinn gave no indication of his interest in the old man's words, though his heart raced at the mention of Sathariel. He maintained the stare for several breaths, still as a stone and wondering what other secrets lay buried in the mind of Quessahn's strange friend. At length, he lowered his golden eyes and the point of his sword.

"I have misjudged the value of your time, sir," he said, sheathing his blade reluctantly. "I am sorry for my impatience."

"No need. In my experience, patience is often the first victim of passion, and it is nothing to apologize for, though it can make one very sorry in the end," the old man said, his voice returning to what one might expect from the frail frame and wizened eyes. "Now let us begin again. Would you care for some tea?"

Though the night had turned bitterly cold, Karras's blood was warm with wine and stronger spirits, such that he protested only a little as Lhaerra and her house guards had abruptly ended the Winterfirst celebration at Loethe Manor. He'd had his fill of drink and pursued much softer distractions to fill out the evening's remainder.

Rilyana's hips swayed rhythmically ahead of him, her elbow in the firm grip of her brother, Callak. She managed to keep an eye on Karras, a seductive, half-lidded gaze that forced him to keep a careful step lest his boots walk out from under him and leave him slumbering in the street until dawn. Her lascivious smile made promises that kept him all the warmer, though Callak's cold glare sought to extinguish the dim light of hope that kept Karras moving in the siblings' wake, a drunken promise to see them home.

Despite Callak's protective posturing, even he could not take away the stolen moments in Karras's mind. He still felt Rilyana's lips brushing next to his ear, her panting hot breath on his neck. His hands bore a memory of her body that her brother, his childhood friend, could never erase.

He rounded a comer, and the high walls of the Saerfynn Manor came into view, the mansion itself surrounded by a dark garden only barely held in check. Karras frowned at the sight of it, fearing Callak would have his way and keep him from Rilyana's attentions. He eyed the large mansion, the tall windows of more rooms than seemed necessary for two people, but he supposed wealth in Sea Ward was meant for little else than shows of grand excess.

At the gates the trio stopped, Karras stumbling forward then swaying back before righting himself, his eyes immediately meeting Callak's.

"We'll take our leave of you now, Karras," Callak growled, a strained smile on his square-jawed face as he pulled Rilyana behind him. "I'll see you tomorrow perhaps?"

"Of course, my friend!" Karras replied, dipping into a comic, sweeping bow. "I bid you the best of evenings!" He clapped Callak's broad shoulder but swiftly swept his other hand around to grasp Rilyana's delicate, gloved hand, planting a gentle kiss upon it. "An excellent evening to you and your fair sister."

Karras had time to see his breath steam upon Rilyana's jeweled bracelet and catch a last, lustful smile to send him home to bed before Callak opened the gate and pulled his sister along after him toward the mansion. Guards stood waiting to open the front doors, and the siblings disappeared inside. Karras leaned against the gate, drowsy and for the first time considering his long walk home. Squeezing the cold iron, he steeled himself to begin the journey as a window inside the Saerfynn house was lit by candlelight.

The silhouette of Rilyana came into view, and Karras lingered, admiring her curves, but was distracted as the shouting voice of Callak reached him from within the house. He could not make out the words, though he guessed it was none other than the eldest Saerfynn's usual tirade over his sister's wantonness. The argument did not last long, however, and soon Callak joined Rilyana at the window, leaning close to her, their silhouettes merging in an embrace that seemed beyond that of siblings. Karras's smile faded, his eyes narrowing as hands slid from shoulders to hips, faces pressed close together, turning in the window and obscuring the details that Karras could only imagine.

He pushed away from the gate, sliding toward the wall, wide eyed and suddenly feeling the effects of his long night of drinking. His breath caught in his throat, stomach turning at what he'd seen pass between brother and sister. The fine foods and wines that the Lady Lhaerra had provided for her guests quickly became a steaming stain at Karras's boots, his stomach emptying until he was left wheezing and teary eyed. Old rumors about the pair came back to him, haunting him as he stumbled away from the estate, shaking his head in disbelief and disgust.

He fell into the dark of a wide alley on the southern end of the manor wall, pulling himself around the comer as he attempted to still his spinning head and put his thoughts in order. He half sat, pressed against the wall, shivering as even the warmth of wine began to fade from his blood, and he recalled his private moments with Rilyana in a new light. His gut threatened to empty itself again as a soft green light flickered nearby and he straightened, expecting to find the glaring lanterns of a Watch patrol.