Page 42 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
Mils looked her over like she was the worst secret Zarathos had ever kept.
“And you see to his needs?” Aryana asked.
“We are fulfilling an agreement Zarathos made with Kingdom Inferna.”
“Ernon.” Mils rounded on him in anger.
“What? She is under a bargain with him as well, and this chamber is the only place we can speak freely.”
“That doesn’t mean we need to tell her everyone’s business.”
“Ah, come on, Mils, you know you want to.” Ernon glanced back at Aryana. “Mimps are notorious gossips. It kills us to have to keep his majesty’s secrets, but it is the terms of the bargain.”
“And if you break them, you’ll die,” Aryana said.
Ernon frowned. “Not just me or Mils. All of us.”
“All of whom?”
Mils sighed, dipping the cloth in the bucket of water and wringing it out, before attacking the puddle of blood. “All miniature imps. The leader of Inferna was exterminating us, as if we were nothing but rats to be slaughtered. We went to His Majesty, the demon arch king, and struck a bargain. He would get Baalzebub, our leader, to stop the slaughter, and in return, we’d serve the arch king. He made the deal with our ruler that if the killing of our kind ceased, then he’d provide protection against Kingdom Spiritu Malignos who have been encroaching in our kingdom for over a century.”
“They’re searching for our spirits. They want to set them free on the land,” Ernon said. “Expand their numbers and take over the other kingdoms.”
“And Zarathos only gets two servants out of it?”
“What do you mean only?” Mils said, offended. “Without us, his life would fall apart.”
“I suppose keeping Kingdom Spiritu in check is reason enough to make the bargain,” Aryana mused to herself.
Mils harrumphed.
Aryana left the tower, allowing the little imps to get their work done, though she still heard them arguing as she descended the steps. Zarathos said a bargain may prove helpful or detrimental. But why make such a lopsided agreement? Keeping Kingdom Spiritu Malignos in check made sense. If they got a hold of the spirits in the underworld, they’d gain so much power they might threaten the arch king’s position on the throne. But why would he protect creatures such as Ernon and Mils? Why would he demand only two small servants out of it?
She sat on Zarathos’s bed and looked around the room. In this world of demons and ruthlessness, there were no fairy godmothers like in the stories the humans told. Stories whispered to Aryana as a child. Tales from a mother who had been turned, not born a vampire as Aryana was.
The old human woman, Enela, who served her mother as her giver, came to mind. She’d known the stories too, and she spoke of them as if they were real, expanding on them, telling Aryana about the magic fairy with the beans, secretly in search of her lostlove, and helping other young mortal women while on her quest. She wondered what circumstances had compelled Enela to allow her mother to take her blood as a giver for the past few years. How desperate must one be to risk willingly giving one’s life force to someone who has the power to take it all at any time?
The fairy godmother was supposed to make dreams come true, and save you with her magic beans in your worst moments while asking nothing in return. Aryana almost laughed at that thought. Enela certainly could have used a person like that. And as for Aryana, she didn’t even have a mother who did that. Instead of protecting her from her uncle, her mother had exposed Aryana to his cold, manipulating ways and let her fare the best she could.
No, in this world, there was only Zarathos. And heaven knew, he was no fairy godmother.
She lay on the demon arch king’s bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince herself to relax. For the next few hours she dozed fitfully, part of her always on alert in this strange new environment.
The doors to the bedchamber swung open, and Zarathos stalked in, visibly unsettled. She noticed that someone had pulled the heavy satin curtains on the window to block out the encroaching light of day. That must have been done by Ernon or Mils.
“What now?” she asked, tensing at his dark expression.
He shut the door. “The opening ceremony will be tomorrow night. We cannot go for the scepter before then. We need to be present for it. But in the meantime, we should ensure we are prepared to get the scepter.”
“You want me to describe the obstacles to getting it?”
“Something a bit less abstract than that.”
He crossed the room to his desk and opened a drawer, retrieving what appeared to be a clear sphere and a miniature square stand. Aryana eyed the orb.
“And what is that?”
He smiled as he set the orb on its stand. “It’s a crystal ball. Since we’re past the whole ‘spinning straw into gold’ routine, this is how I’ll look into your mind. Or rather, it lets us link our minds just for a while. I want a tour of your castle.”
