"Lord Erland Morphis," our guide announced in a loud voice. "And guest," he added before moving away. Erland pulled me forward, although I was beginning to have second (and third) thoughts about all this.
The throne room (that's what it was, I discovered quickly) was magnificent. The value of the tile alone could have fed a Third World country on Earth for several years. Who had wealth such as this? I had no idea. Small knots of men and women stood here and there inside that throne room and they gazed upon us in curiosity as Erland steered me through them, heading toward the throne and the man who sat there. Flanked by two Warlocks in uniform, the man on the throne observed us with guarded interest as we approached.
When we reached the bottom step leading to the ornate chair and the man who sat upon it, Erland bowed low. He didn't ask me to bow with him, or kneel or curtsy (not that I would have). The man on the throne lifted an eyebrow at me when Erland straightened up from his bow. I already knew from the scent who he was.
"Explain why your guest does not bow, before I call my guards to imprison her," Wylend Arden asked Erland calmly.
"Even if she were not who she is, it would be foolish to attempt to imprison her," Erland talked in circles. One of King Wylend's eyebrows lifted higher.
"You bring me a puzzle to solve?" Wylend seemed quite happy at the prospect.
"If you wish it, my King," Erland flashed a dazzling smile.
"Let me see," Wylend stood and walked down the steps, the two Warlock guards remaining at his side as he descended. King Wylend Arden was beardless, wore only a simple gold band on his forehead, dressed richly in a silk shirt and trousers and wore a heavy gold chain that circled his neck. His eyes and his height were Griffin's—there was no mistaking them, as well as the brown color of his hair. Narissa had been shorter—very close to my height. Kyler and Cleo had gotten their beauty and rich auburn hair from her. I was staring at my grandfather. Had I ever thought to have one? My mother always said her parents were dead and Howard Graham's were deceased before I was born.
"Let's see," Wylend examined me carefully as he circled Erland and me. He stroked his chin lightly as he considered the conundrum I presented. "Do I get the standard three questions?" Wylend was still walking around me, much like a large cat might consider its prey.
"If you wish it, my King," Erland repeated, grinning wider, now.
"Very well. Is she human?"
"Not human," Erland was enjoying this. I wanted to elbow him in the stomach. Instead, I was forced to stand there and bear the King's scrutiny. Honestly, I had no idea what to do or how he might react when he learned he had a granddaughter (or great-granddaughters, for that matter). How was Griffin going to deal with this? He had a living father. I think he imagined his father was dead and merely wanted to know the name. Who knows—with his ability to bend time, he might have gone back and watched his father from afar. That wasn't necessary. His father was here and staring at me intently.
"Is she pregnant with your child?" Wylend asked his second question.
"I may hold hope in that direction, but no," Erland chuckled.
"I didn't think you'd switched allegiances again so quickly," Wylend said and came to stare into my eyes.
"I have not, my King, although I still have desires where this one is concerned." What had he meant by switching allegiances? I was going to have to do a little digging myself.
"Is this the new Queen of Le-Ath Veronis?" Wylend stood back, a look of triumph on his face.
"Yes, my King, but there is something else that you must know about her," Erland vibrated with excitement.
"I guessed correctly!" Wylend seemed quite happy with his skill at this game. "Welcome, Queen Lissa," he took my hand and kissed it.
"My King, may we retire to your study so I may give you the last part of my information in private?" Erland asked.
"Of course," Wylend pointed us toward a small doorway off to the side and the two uniformed guards led the way. Wylend strode before us and Erland and I followed at his heels.
The study was luxury itself, with priceless antique maps hanging on one wall while another wall held a huge painting of a seascape. It made me think of Edwin Church's depiction of Niagara Falls—the handling of the water was very similar. The painting was breathtaking; I wouldn't mind having something like it hanging on the walls of my suite.
Wylend sat and then asked us to sit in chairs before his huge, elaborately carved dark wood desk. "Now, Lord Morphis, what news do you bring to me?"
"Do you remember Narissa?" Erland asked. How had he gotten that name? I hadn't given it to him.
Wylend's face went dark with anger. "I remember. She was such a temptress when I met her."
"And then she turned into the biggest bitch ever," Erland nodded in agreement. He was acting as if he knew her—had met her, even. I was now staring at Erland in alarm.
"Tell me what happened when she left, Wylend." Erland coaxed. I had no idea what was going on between these two. Erland was behaving as if he and Wylend were close—closer than I imagined. I was trying to sort that out without Looking—I felt it would be rude if I tried.
"That bitch was pregnant with my child," Wylend was even angrier, now. "I know what her kind do with their quarter-blood children. She was half; I determined that for myself. She took my child away, Erland. I cursed her for it, but she took it anyway, out of spite. I had no way to find it, they gate so often, and the Elemaiya are generally beyond even our skills to track. My child is dead now and I have not been able to produce another." Wylend was acting as if he truly cared about that. It made the breath catch in my throat.
"I have information for you, my King," Erland left his seat and knelt ceremoniously before Wylend's desk. "Your child is not dead," he announced. "I was not able to bring him immediately," Erland lifted his head and gazed up at Wylend. "But your granddaughter sits before you now."
I always knew Erland had a flair for the dramatic. He certainly pulled out all the stops for this announcement.
"Erland Morphis, get up from there this instant!" I smacked his shoulder, causing Wylend to roar with laughter.
"Where is Lissa?" Amara asked Gardevik, who'd come back inside the suite.
"Erland Morphis came and squirreled her away," Gardevik didn't know how he felt about that. Griffin still looked pale but Cleo was tending him and he was better than before.
"He took her to Karathia," Griffin leaned on his granddaughters as he stood. "If Cleo hadn't already handed out a sentence to my mother, I might be tempted to do something myself," Griffin heaved a weary sigh.
"Em-pah, this is no different from Lissa finding out she had a father," Cleo rubbed his back affectionately. "Or Kyler and I when we found out our father was still alive. We love Daddy and we wouldn't trade him for anything."
"I hope my father enjoys a good laugh," Griffin muttered. "His son, older than he is."
"How can that be?" Gardevik was curious, now.
"The ones who approached me with an invitation to become the first Saa Thalarr came forward in time, when I was dying. I was taken back to the time when the Ra'Ak began to take the worlds of light, over a hundred thousand years ago. My father, Wylend Arden, is King of Karathia and twenty-seven thousand years old. I am nearly four times his age." Griffin snorted at the irony.
"Did you ever have the abilities the Warlocks have?" Gardevik asked.
"They have a rite, similar to that of any other Wizard clan. The ability must be wakened by an elder. Ask my granddaughters—they have both been through the ritual for the Grey House Wizards. This is so any stray children will not cause chaos if they are reared away from the family of Wizards or Warlocks." Griffin rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. "It also wakes the near immortality. Otherwise, they live a normal life span and die. No wonder Lissa exceeded all expectations," he muttered. "She was a quarter Bright Elemaiya and a quarter Karathian Witch."
"You are truly my granddaughter?" Wylend had moved Erland away and now sat in the chair next to mine, holding my hands in his.
"It looks that way," I said. "Griffin went into shock, I think, when Narissa admitted who his father is."
"How is he still alive?" Wylend asked.
"He was the first Saa Thalarr," I said, gazing into eyes that were so much like my father's, sprinkled with gold flecks.
"My child became the first Saa Thalarr?" Wylend sounded proud.
"He is now called the Oracle," I said. "Because he has foresight that none of the others have. He was a King Vampire before he was made Saa Thalarr."
"And you became the Queen Vampire of Le-Ath Veronis," Wylend nodded. Erland sat casually on the corner of Wylend's desk, swinging a foot leisurely as he listened to Wylend's conversation with me.
"Yeah. That's me, all right." I couldn't keep the sarcasm from my voice. I was thankful Gabron had cleared my calendar. The day was becoming more complicated than I'd anticipated.
"Can you set up a meeting with your father for me?" Wylend was almost begging. Here he was, King of Karathia and perhaps the most powerful Warlock on the planet, begging for a meeting with his son. I felt dizzy, for a moment. Things were turned upside down and inside out for a few fleeting seconds. Narissa, my grandmother, should have been the loving soul and the Warlock should have been the cold and indifferent parent. Exactly the opposite was true.
"Child, you look pale," Wylend said, his voice coming from far away.
"She's fainting," Erland's voice was even farther away and hands were reaching out to keep me from hitting the thick, expensive rug in Wylend's study.
"Did you think I wouldn't know how to treat my Queen?" Erland's voice was soft and his hands were gentle. "Just because I am in a female cycle doesn't mean I wouldn't want you, or wouldn't treat you properly."
