“Of course.”
“Has the creature returned?”
Styx had checked with Jagr only minutes before. “No.”
“I believe I will call the Commission into session.” Siljar headed toward the opening of the cavern, her pace surprisingly swift for such a tiny demon. “It should prove interesting to see who is here.”
“Or not here,” Styx added.
“Precisely.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brandel hurried through the secret tunnel, still struggling to hold his corporal shape.
Goddamn that stupid witch. She’d ruined everything despite his clever plan.
After the previous fiasco he’d realized he couldn’t just charge in and grab the box.
He’d spent hours creating the perfect poison and loading it in the dart, then more time devoted to tracing the ancient magic to locate the box. Time well spent he’d assured himself as he caught sight of his prey trying to escape.
He released his dart and attacked, knowing that the poison would swiftly weaken the vampire to leave the witch unprotected.
Of course he wasn’t an idiot.
A powerful witch was never truly helpless.
But he’d been prepared to battle against spells of aggression, not a simple disguise spell that attacked him on his most fundamental level.
Wanting to roar in fury, Brandel instead muffled his emotions and kept to the shadows as he weaved his way through the various passageways that led to his private rooms.
Not only did he want to avoid attracting the attention of his fellow Oracles, but he also couldn’t risk his anger warning Raith that he’d failed yet again.
He had just turned into the inner cavern that he’d claimed as his own when a slender Kapre demon appeared behind him.
“There you are, Oracle.”
The Kapres were tall, slender creatures with moss green skin that was completely hairless. They were also a passive race with few powers who often hired themselves as servants to more powerful demons.
This particular Kapre was a valet to Recise, a Zalez demon who was one of the most powerful of the Oracles. The position gave the prissy, overly formal twit a sense of superiority over other demons.
Fiercely reminding himself that he was posing as a mild-tempered Miera, Brandel turned, concentrating on holding his form.
“Not now,” he said, his tone carefully bland. “I’m busy.”
The creature sniffed, his black eyes filled with a malicious amusement.
“What you are is late.”
“Late?” Brandel frowned. “Late for what?”
“The Commission has been called into session.”
Brandel was forced to turn away, knowing his eyes would reveal his true nature as he struggled against a surge of fear.
“Why?” he asked, pretending to straighten the pillows arranged on a flat outcropping that served as a sofa.
Another sniff. “It’s not my place to understand the workings of the Oracles.”
He continued to arrange the pillows, barely containing the pulses of vibrations that would destroy the Kapre. He needed information. Unfortunately, the servant was the only one who could give it to him.
“Perhaps not, but I’m sure your position as Recise’s most loyal servant has given you access to highly sensitive information.” He forced himself to stroke the bloated ego of the Kapre.
He could almost feel the creature preening behind him. “Certainly I am trusted, but my master is quite discreet.”
Hmm. Clearly it was going to take more than flattery. Brandel reached behind a pillow to pull out a small bag filled with precious gems. He extracted a small emerald before turning to hold it in his open palm, pretending to study it in the candlelight.
“Not everyone is so discreet, are they?”
“True.” The servant licked his thin lips, his gaze locked on the emerald with blatant greed. “I did hear a rumor that the body of a dead fairy was found in the lower caves.”
No. It was impossible. He’d hidden the body where it couldn’t be found, hadn’t he?
“Was he very ill?” he asked with the pretense of innocence.
The servant shrugged with obvious indifference. “No one knows for certain what happened, but Siljar is determined to have a full investigation.”
Brandel forced his lips into a stiff smile. Meddlesome bitch.
“Of course she is.”
“Can you imagine any demon foolish enough to try to kill beneath the noses of the Oracles?” The Kapre inched forward, his gaze never wavering from the emerald. “The demon would have to be suicidal.”
“Obviously.” With a flick of his wrist, Brandel sent the emerald flying through the opening to land in the passage outside his chamber. “I must change before I can join the others. Please inform Siljar I will only be a few minutes.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” The servant scrambled toward the small gem, unaware of the invisible barrier that Brandel placed over the opening.
Once assured there would be no further interruptions, Brandel headed into the back chamber allowing his shape to dissipate into mist as he considered his limited options.
He could rush and try to join the Commission with the excuse he’d been out for a stroll. Or even remain in these private rooms and send word that he was sick and unable to attend the council.
But neither would halt Siljar’s quest to discover who killed the fairy.
If he remained, there was a very good chance he was going to end up in the Oracles’ secret dungeons.
A place where demons went and never left.
Ever.
“Damn,” he muttered, knowing he had no choice but to disappear.
Raith would be furious to lose their eyes and ears on the Commission. It’d always been essential to have early warning if the Chatri decided to make a return to the world. And, of course, to halt if the fey approached the Oracles with complaints their people were disappearing.
Still, it was easy for Raith to toss out commands when he remained in the safety of their world.
It was Brandel who was forced to take all the risks, with very few rewards.
Well, no more, he abruptly decided.
He was leaving behind the Oracles and tracking down the witch.
Once he had the box, no one would be giving him orders.
Styx stood at the back of the large cave that had once been the receiving room for the previous Anasso.
Not much had changed in the past months. At least not as far as the scenery.
The dark stone of the floor and walls had been polished smooth over the ages and a shallow stream of water ran through the back of the cavern. Torches were set in brackets along the walls that shimmered in the crystals that had been exposed in the lofted ceiling.