Page 113 of Ashborne Forged

Her gaze went cold. “I could kill you tonight,” she murmured. “Hell, I could kill you right now.”

Knives in my sleeves, and at my waist. More in my boots, and one at my back. I have six inches on you, easily. And at least fifty pounds. Not to mention my training. Just try me, Mother. Please, I beg of you. It isn’t murder if I slit your throat in self-defense.

“And never gain your legacy?” I asked casually. “If I don’t intervene, he’ll discover her pregnancy, then the babe is gone. He’ll kill it. We both know that.”

She didn’t respond for a time, so I pushed to my feet and crossed the space between us to stand at her toes.

“She’s old blood, Mother. Just what you always wanted for me. I humbled myself to come to you. I brought you the truth. And I found a way for it to benefit us both. That’s why I am here. But, I am not naïve enough to appeal to your mercy. So, be very clear: If you want to remain undetected, you’ll help me, then leave us alone forever, safe in the knowledge that your bloodline continues.”

“And what will stop you killing me after I secure the child for you?”

I smiled. “The goodness of my heart.” I took another sip, then clunked the tumbler down on the desk next to her, thrilled when she twitched. “I haven’t sold my soul, you see, Mother. Some good still exists in me.”

She arched one brow. “Are you certain?”

37. Unrest

SOUNDTRACK: In the Air Tonight by Sons of Legion

~ VOSKI ~

An hour later, after successfully shielding my soul from my mother’s claws, I bade her farewell and walked the empty halls to my rooms.

Traversing this grand, echoing house in the dark was the strangest tangle of emotions.

I didn’t have to think. I knew every inch of this place—including its secrets. It required no effort from me to navigate it. My feet automatically turned me toward the residential wing. I knew the length of paces, and the angle needed to cut the corner of the intersection with the main corridor without banging my shoulder against the wall. Though I had become broader since I left, and required a few more inches to clear it. I knew both its shadowy corners, and those guarded by light.

And I knew its specters.

While my feet walked familiar carpets and halls, my heart sank deeper and deeper in dread. In the corner of my vision, the shadows in the alcove on the second floor seemed to separate and slip away. The flickering light of the candle left burning in the main hallway formed wavering figures on the opposite wall as I passed.

My senses were heightened, my pulse banging in my ears. Fear twisted my guts, and the skin on the back of my neck crawled with the impending sense that, at any moment, eyes would follow me, or a cold hand would descend.

This place was poison, and fear, darkness, and death. Just as Mother intended.

When I finally turned the corner into the residential wing and drew close to my rooms, I picked up my pace, while keeping my posture casual, and only looking straight ahead, though my ears were perked to even the slightest noise.

The old house creaked as the wind picked up outside—an eerie howl that might have been wind in the eaves, or some creature of darkness, conjured by my mother.

Adrenaline shot through my veins and shallowed my breath.

A massive tapestry on the wall beside my door showed the family crest—a shield separated by the hilt, blade, and quillons of a sword. Each quadrant beautifully depicted apparently benign elements in surprising detail: A curved stalk with delicate leaves and small, white bell-shaped blooms in the upper left. A hare in flight on the right. A beautiful woman, her head tipped over a spinning wheel by the light of the moon on the bottom left. And a tree in full, spring growth on the right. Only those with the knowledge of the symbols of darkness would understand, or catch the fine details.

Lily of the Valley. A hare in flight. The witch’s toil. And a blighted branch.

Poison. Fear. Darkness. Death.

Cold skated down my spine. I knew those elements, their true meanings, and the ways they were embraced in this home.

Careful to take my time opening the room, I paused in the doorway as if to scan it for nostalgia’s sake. In truth, I stretched my senses, looking for an intruder. A trap.

Nothing.

Swallowing to wet my throat, I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, turning the key to lock it. Not that it would stop her, if she was determined.

The upright chair I braced under the knob would do a better job.

I spent several silent minutes checking every possible corner, lever, and hidden access that might have been installed in my absence. I knocked on walls to look for hollow spaces, checked paintings, bookshelves, even the fireplace, though it didn’t appear to have been worked upon since I’d lived here years earlier.