Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames

Author:Nicholas Eames
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Fantasy / Epic, Fiction / Action & Adventure
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2017-02-20T16:00:00+00:00

Kallorek was in a mood when they got back. Matrick had him tied to a chair and was seated opposite, sipping something that wasn’t wine from a wineglass and smiling placidly as the booker raged.

“I’ll pop your fucking eyes out and eat them with cheese! I’ll have you flayed and salted! I’ll turn your skin to jerky and feed it to dogs. I’ll feed it to rotters and feed them to dogs!”

Matrick raised his glass as the others entered. “Welcome back. Kal and I were just catching up.” He took one look at Ganelon, still beset by an irrepressible fit of high-pitched giggles, and his jaw dropped. He immediately looked to Moog. “What did you do to him?”

“He got a lungful of Jackal’s Jest,” the wizard explained. “Things got a little hairy in Conthas.”

“You’re a wanted man, by the way,” Clay said to Matrick.

The king paled a shade or two. “Lilith knows I’m alive?”

“If she didn’t before we wrecked the Maxithon, she does now,” Clay told him. “She’s hired a bounty hunter. A woman named—”

“Larkspur.”

Clay blinked. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s … bad news,” he concluded.

Matrick nodded. “Oh, she’s bad news, all right. I was afraid Lilith might resort to this. We hired Larkspur a few years back to track down a servant who’d stolen some of Lilith’s jewellery. She found him right quick, cut his hands off, and carved thief onto his forehead with a knife. It was almost a mercy when Lilith had him executed.”

Ganelon sniggered as if Matrick had told a bawdy joke.

“Moog.” Gabe tilted his head at the warrior. “Would you mind …?”

“Ah, sure.” The wizard took Ganelon by the shoulder and steered him toward the hallway. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go up top and get some air.”

When they’d left Clay turned to Matrick. “So what is she, exactly?”

The old rogue shrugged, perplexed.

“She’s a daeva,” said Kit.

“Which is …?” Gabe prompted.

The revenant shrugged, which set something—a rib, perhaps—rattling inside him. “Just that. Daevas are daevas. I have no idea where they come from, but aside from their wings—”

“Wait, she has wings?” asked Gabriel, but then raised his hand. “Never mind. You were saying?”

“Yes, well, aside from their wings, the daeva also possess a certain … charisma. Compulsion, I think, would be a better term for it.”

“You mean they can control people?” Clay inquired, relieved to know there’d been a justifiable reason behind his curious infatuation with the woman in the bar.

“Essentially, yes,” said Kit. “Their mere presence, or so I’ve heard, is enough to induce a mild fascination. Should one of them make a real effort to charm you … I suppose a strong mind might resist, of course, but a weak one …” He scratched at a bloodless gash across his throat. “I’ve heard of daevas commanding small armies of besotted thralls, ready and willing to carry out their bidding.”

“So what about our daeva?” Gabe wanted to know. “Larkspur, was it?”

Kallorek grunted a laugh, but a glare from Matrick settled him quick.

“Larkspur, yes. Although she once went by the name of Sabbatha,” Kit told them.

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