Richelle Mead - Storm Born

I left their house without seeing my mother again. I hoped she wouldn’t take her feelings out on Roland, and I wondered how much it must suck to love someone who always walked into danger. I decided if I ever got married, I’d choose someone with a normal job whom I could expect to be home at normal hours. Like an electrician. Or an architect.

Or a veterinarian.

Ack.

As I got into my car to depart, I saw the strangest thing. A red fox watched me from the tree line on the far side of my parents’ house. More surprising than seeing it watch me so seriously was the fact that it was a red fox in the first place. They weren’t common in southern Arizona. You were more likely to see a gray fox or one of the silly-looking little desert kit foxes. I stared into this one’s yellow-brown eyes and shivered. Too many weird things were happening lately for me to feel comfortable with a studious fox, no matter how beautiful.

When I got back to my house, I knew it was time to solicit the “other help.” This was one of the areas where my path had split from Roland’s. He’d been my mentor and had years more experience, but we both knew I’d grown stronger. He could never have done what I was about to do. If he could, he might have understood why I relied on this sort of assistance.

I closed my bedroom door and then shut the curtains and blinds. Darkness fell, and I lit a candle, letting it be my only light source. I was strong enough to do a summoning without the stage tricks, just as I could cast out a spirit without divine help, but I didn’t want to waste the extra strength today.

I produced the wand and touched the smoky quartz crystal on it, strengthening my connection to the spirit world. Closing my eyes, I focused on the being I wanted and then recited the correct words. I often improvised words when I cast out creatures-hence my frequent use of expletives-but it didn’t usually matter, so long as my intent and meaning proved clear. For a summoning like this, however, I had to have everything right. I was essentially invoking a contract, and as any good lawyer knew, technicalities were everything.

The room grew freezing cold when I finished the incantation, a different kind of cold than the elemental had caused. A pressure sort of swirled around me, and then I knew I was no longer alone. I looked around and found him in the corner he usually appeared in, a black shape hidden among the shadows. Red eyes gleamed out at me from the darkness.

“I am here, mistress.”

I turned the light back on.

“Hey, Volusian, how’s it going?”

He stepped forward, blinking with annoyance at the light, just as I’d known he would. He was shorter than me, very solid and humanoid in shape, which indicated a fair amount of power. He had smooth, almost shiny black skin and those narrow red eyes that always unnerved me a little. His ears had a slight point to them.

“I am the same as always, mistress.”

“You know, you never ask how I am. That hurts.”

He answered my lazy smile with a long-suffering scowl. “That is because you are also always the same. You smell of life and blood and sex. And violets. You are a painful reminder of all the things I once was and all the things I will never be again.” He paused thoughtfully. “Actually, the scent of sex is stronger than usual. My mistress has been…busy.”

“Did you just make a joke?”

I said this partially to deflect the sex issue but also to keep teasing him. Volusian was about as damned as a soul could be. I didn’t know what he’d done when alive, but it had been evil enough that someone had cursed him from ever entering the world of the dead. His soul would never find any peace. So he had haunted my world and the Otherworld until I’d discovered him tormenting a suburban family.

He was so powerful, as was his curse, that I had not been strong enough to destroy him and send him on. The best I could have done was cast him to the Otherworld, but I had no guarantees he wouldn’t return. So I’d done the next best thing I could: I’d enslaved him. He was bound to me until I released him or lost control. This way, I dictated his actions. I usually kept him in the Otherworld until I needed him. Teasing him was a way to project confidence in my control, like I wasn’t worried at all. I couldn’t show any weakness with him. He had made it perfectly clear a number of times that he would kill me horrifically if he ever broke free.

He didn’t respond to my last comment. He simply stared. He was only obligated to answer direct questions.

“I need some advice.”

“I do as my mistress commands.” There was an implied until I can choke the breath from her body at the end of that seemingly subservient statement.

“I’m going to be crossing over into the Otherworld soon. Physically.”

That almost surprised him. Almost. “My mistress is foolish.”

“Thanks. I have to find a human girl that some horny gentry abducted.”

He reconsidered. “My mistress is brave and foolish.”

“She was taken by a guy named Aeson. Do you know him?”

“He is king of the Alder Land. Powerful. Very powerful.”

“Stronger than me?”

Volusian stayed silent, thinking. “Your powers do not diminish in the Otherworld, as some humans’ do. Even so, he will still be at his full strength. It would be a close battle. Were you to fight him in this world, there would be no contest. He would be weaker by far.”

“I don’t think I can manage that. What about you guys? I’m going to bring you along. Will it help?”

“I feared my mistress would say that. Yes, of course it will help. You know my binds force me to protect you, no matter how much angst it causes me.”

“Aw, don’t sound so glum. Think of it as job security.”

“Make no mistake, mistress. I may protect you now, but as soon as I have the chance, I will rip the flesh from your body and tear your bones apart. I will ensure you suffer so gravely that you will beg me for death. Yet, even then, your soul will not find relief. I will torture it for all eternity.”

He spoke in a flat tone, not as a threat, but simply as a statement of fact. Honestly, after my week of propositions, statements about my impending death were kind of a refreshing return to normality.

“Looking forward to it, Volusian.” I yawned and sat on the bed. “Anything else constructive you’ve got to offer? In rescuing the girl, I mean.”

“I suspect my mistress is too…set in her ways for my advice, but you could solicit help.”

“Solicit it from whom? I don’t have anyone else to go to.”

“Not in this world you don’t.”

It took me a moment to get what he was saying. “No. No way. I’m not going to some gentry or spirit for help. Not like they’d give it anyway.”

“I would not be so certain of that, mistress.”

Gentry were petty and dishonest. They had no regard for anyone but themselves. No way would I appeal to one. No way would I trust one.

Volusian watched me. When he saw I would not respond, he said: “It is as I thought. My mistress will not hear anything she doesn’t want to. She is too stubborn.”

“No, I’m not. I’m always open to things.”

“As you say, mistress.”

The look on his face somehow managed to be angelic and scream you fucking hypocrite all at the same time. “All right,” I said impatiently, “let’s hear it.”

“There is another king, Dorian, who rules the Oak Land. He and Aeson hate each other-in a polite-faced, political manner, of course.”

“No surprise there. I’m surprised they aren’t all turning on each other. That doesn’t mean he’d help me.”

“I believe Dorian would be very happy to see someone come and kill off Aeson. Especially if he did not have to actually do it himself. He might offer a great deal of assistance to see you do it.”