31. Caspian

CHAPTER 31

Caspian

S ome games require a long-term strategy in order to win. How did I come across that phrase? I remember it from somewhere. Once upon a time, someone said it to me.

"A long-term strategy, Collin," they insisted. "For that is the ultimate weapon sure to win any war: patience. Incredible, steely patience. You are too impulsive. Too strayed by the whims of your temper. Trust me in this and you will learn soon enough. No other weapon comes close to the strategy of patience..."

Altaris--only his voice was different then. Softer then, less wistful. His brand of charm was the same: over the top and overbearing. Yet, his tone seemed lighter, lacking the heaviness that has crept into that baritone sense. Years…no, centuries, have made him an entirely different person.

One whose sadness laces every word spoken. No longer can he hide his shame or guilt behind pretty words.

"Well, this is quite a dilemma," he says, but there is a lack of passion in those words. "Dinara, please explain again in detail. What the hell did you see?"

"Her mind is a jumble," the woman explains, her voice faint, as if she's on the verge of passing out. Or perhaps diving through the now broken window behind her, as Niamh did. She sways and braces her hand against the nearby desk for balance. "Such a confusing swirl of recollections. So very intriguing. Oh, Altaris, you were right. I should have accepted any price. Any. She is very intriguing indeed."

"Nice to know," the vamryre, snaps. "Care to tell me why she might have gone leaping out of the building?" He sounds strained, grunting with effort, as though he is grappling with something heavy.

Not that I care. My eyes are on the space where Niamh stood. Where she jumped through a wall of glass. Where she sprouted wings and took off through the sky, a beautiful mass of ebony and ivory.

"Dinara, my dear, I know scrying is tiring, but if you could explain?—"

"Oh yes! She thinks you are her sire, and that you sent one of your little toys after her. But, of course, that is not true. Something is toying with her. Luring her. They knew she would be scried, and they planted seeds to sow doubt. They want her isolated. I can't explain it all just yet—but I feel it in my bones. There is chaos brewing. Oh, my dear, Altaris, what a fascinating mess."

"Damn." The vamryre hisses, and real concern breaks through his facade. For once he sounds tired—exhausted, and every bit his incalculable age. "How interesting indeed—Really, Caspian! Can you be still?"

Because I'm straining to reach that goddamn window despite the weight of what feels like a million iron chains fighting to restrain me.

"She thinks you sent him to control her," the grimoirer adds with a delicate laugh. "How devious. What on earth have you gotten up to now?"

"A lie," Altaris says. "Caspian, if you do not calm yourself, we will not be able to devote our attention to finding your?—"

"You lied to her." I whirl on him and realize that the ‘chains' holding me back were his arms. He watches me, his suit wrinkled, eyes more shrouded than ever. Niamh's thoughts are sealed off once again but one realization is crystal clear. "A monster told her I am your pet on a leash. So, was it you? Were you the one who gave me to Cassius?"

"Not quite," he says in a hard, flat tone. "Honestly, Caspian, now really isn't the time to?—"

"Tell me! Were you the one who coaxed me into this life? Was I your pet?"

"Of course not," he says, his fangs bared. "Caspian, you were the only person in this world to ever trust me with something truly valuable. Something I have worked like hell to maintain."

"What?"

"Your soul," he says. "And though I wanted to refuse, I have upheld my end of the bargain. For I was not the one who sold you to Cassius. And you went through great pains to ensure that, no matter what, I couldn't intervene."

"Lies," I snap. Nothing would be worth choosing this cursed existence. Nothing.

"I believed so as well," he says, as if plucking the thought from my head. "But you were adamant. Insisted. You sacrificed your soul to pursue this path. I played no part in that aspect, I can assure you."

"Why?"

"I won't say," he says. "It isn't my truth to tell. I can only offer you this: you chose this path, knowing the risks. The dangers. You alone made that decision. All I can do, is all I have ever done for you: assist in any way I can, for we have a contract to maintain, and there is no time for this."

"Why not?" His tone conveys more than some ethical aversion alone. He's hiding something.

A cocked eyebrow and wince on his part confirms it. "Because," he says, "it seems that council has decided to forgo politics. They want you back. Badly enough to send their own spies here to do so. We need to find your wayward friend, before they do first. I doubt I need to explain why."

"No," I hiss.

If I don't track her down in time, Niamh's life will be on the line.

And, if Cassius has his way, far more…