Those Who Fear the Darkness (BloodRunes: Book 2)

By Laura R Cole

Tension mounts in the continuation of the BloodRunes Trilogy:

As Layna and Gryffon race to alert Treymayne about the impending danger of King Nathair's use of blood-magic, menacing evidence implies that the Sleeping God, Nuko, is waking. The two of them know that if he is awakened he will spread his dark curse upon the land and the outcome will be disastrous. But when they try to warn the council of these threats, controversy from a surprising foe hinders their efforts.

When shocking news of King Nathair's latest activities suddenly spurs the Treymayne council to heed their advice, it seems they might make some progress, but an attempted murder forces them to shift their focus to more personal issues and Gryffon finds that his allegiance is torn.

As the darkness grows stronger and the tense state of affairs between the two countries intensifies, Gryffon must abandon his efforts to stop the impending conflict to fight for something he values even more than his country...

...Layna's life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura R Cole
• Release date: Dec 1, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466028807

Laura R Cole

Laura was a native Vermonter whose love of reading developed into a love of writing. When not creating her own fantasy worlds, she enjoyed losing herself in RPGs like Dragon Age, Skyrim, and KOTOR and collecting and making items to make the real world a bit more magical. She also loved to be outdoors and dabble in nature photography.

Book preview

Those Who

Fear the Darkness

(BloodRunes: Book 2)

By Laura R Cole

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Laura R Cole

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

PROLOGUE

It all started out so innocently. Layna cleaned the rooms and did her chores as Lady Jezebel demanded. But she couldn’t help dream about the visiting Lord Gryffon’s handsome face, his winsome demeanor. So when he started requesting that she spend time with him she could hardly refuse. As a commoner, she was supposed to listen to the noble class after all.

Unfortunately, through her involvement with him she stumbled upon a secret about herself: The fact that she possessed a great talent to manipulate the power, a talent that had become a luxury of the rich in society. By law, she should have presented herself to the priests to be tested and then either be forced to pay for expensive classes to be trained, or if she couldn’t afford the steep price, pay back her gift from the gods by joining the Priesthood.

But Layna didn’t report herself, on the advice of a healer and her future mentor, Mila, she hid the fact that she had power and told only her noble friend, Lord Gryffon, her terrible secret. Together, they vowed to hatch a plan to train her discretely, but before they could do anything Layna’s mistress and Lord Gryffon’s hostess, Lady Jezebel, lashed out at the two of them in a jealous rage.

She dragged them through the court system, forcing Layna to become a fugitive rather than gamble her life on the whims of Lady Jezebel’s lapdog Devon, and in the process Gryffon’s own secret is exposed: He is actually a spy from Treymayne, the forgotten part of the country which was separated by a magical barrier after the reign of the Dark King.

The two of them flee the fury of Lady Jezebel, pursued also by an unseen force they later recognize to be their recently coronated King, King Nathair. A mark that has appeared on Layna’s neck turns out to be a symbol meant to let the descendants of the Dark King recognize each other for the supposed repopulation of the world of the superior race and it is this that has drawn the King to her. Layna becomes increasingly worried that the legacy of her bloodline will rule her future actions.

Though she and Gryffon are rescued by unknown forces from the clutches of the King within the Dark King’s tomb and the Lady Jezebel is torn apart by her own hellhounds, beasts created by pain and blood of an art that was supposed to have been left behind in the Dark Ages, they know that they have to warn Treymayne about the danger that the new King poses.

He is reinstating blood-magic, planning on starting a war, and seems to be repeating a history that everyone would like to forget…

CHAPTER 1

Karl took a seal out of his desk drawer and pressed it firmly on the soft wax. He held it there a moment longer than necessary, lost in his thoughts, before carefully lifting it off. It peeled away to reveal the imprint of two snakes intertwined around a cross. He rang a bell for a servant and one quickly scurried in. He spelled out his instructions slowly and clearly to the man so that his dull brain could comprehend.

This could be a problem, he thought to himself as the servant carried the letter out of the room. Jezebel had been missing for weeks now, and his attempts to contact her had thus far proved fruitless. Even that man Devon of hers denies having any information as to her whereabouts. He got up and started to pace, but his limping gate soon forced him back into the chair.

It had been a nuisance when she had refused to give up the ridiculous council business, but Karl had hoped to turn the whole mess to his advantage when he'd discovered a new facet of mind control: Apparently bonds of blood were quite strong, and when you knew how, they could be manipulated to influence the thoughts of another sharing your blood. Hoping to regain control over his wayward daughter, he had bought the necessary charms to bind her and the knowledge of how to further influence her future actions. Armed with this information, and the news that Lord Carlon had added his support to her candidacy, Karl had decided that it would be best to support her as well. But when she disrupted the balance of power by naming herself First Advisor it turned into more of a problem, further compounded by the breaking of those bonds he had paid so handsomely to erect. And now, with her disappearance...Karl left the thought unfinished, growling deep in his throat. Her actions were slandering his good name. I should have carried through with the mission to cull her when I had the chance.

It truly was a shame that the compulsion had been broken. It had been the perfect plan to have her in such a powerful position once he had her under his control. It would have taken care of her and helped with the task of controlling the King. And it would have worked too, if the King hadn't somehow detected it and interfered! The thought of the King gave Karl another uncomfortable twinge.

Though their maneuvering to place a puppet on the throne had been initially successful, the man frustratingly had begun to pull his own strings. Karl had seen a canny gleam in the man's eyes, and he had the sneaking suspicion that the King may have his own agenda to follow. He may not be as easily swayed from it as the old King had been from his.

Furthermore, the ease with which the man had broken the bonds that Karl had placed upon Jezebel made it obvious that his talent was not as weak as he had first portrayed it to the council when petitioning for the kingship. That did not bode well for their plans. Hopefully Jezebel would be rational when she returned and they could find another way to use her to control the King. If not, it may be better just to get rid of her.

Her sister had done her duty and married off into a wealthy respectable family, but for some reason Jezebel had bigger plans in mind and was not smart enough to see that they were simply beyond her. Her pathetic squabbling for power was beginning to grate on his nerves. Karl shook his head clear of the unhappy thought. Things were spiraling out of control, and Karl hated being out of control.

He rose from his chair and walked as briskly as his aching joints would allow to the front door where his carriage awaited, and he climbed into it carefully. He wasn't as young as he used to be. He had recently wrenched his ankle, one of many unlucky happenings that seemed to be occurring quite frequently as of late. He had had a series of unfortunate events recently and was worried that the fortune teller he had read his cards had been correct in her prediction of impending doom.

The carriage ride was a short one, but it was long enough to make his old bones ache stiffly as he limped his way to the secret entrance. He made his way slowly down the steep stairs, his thoughts returning once more to Jezebel. It really was a shame that she had turned out how she had. He had had such high hopes in the beginning, especially after she showed a propensity for the talent, but that had only ended by causing him embarrassment.

He had reported her mark to his Brothers immediately, of course, and had been excited to set her up as a potential breeder. Upon inspection, however, the Order termed her unfit, and she consequently was put on the cull list. To blunt the sharp pain of humiliation that her failure had caused, Karl had volunteered to take the matter into his own hands. Inexplicably, an order had come in the nick of time to stave off the carrying out of his execution plan. He was curious just who had decided to give such an order, and why. Recent events that had come to light made him suspicious of the reasoning behind it.

Karl finally reached the bottom of the stairs and paused to catch his breath, checking his watch to make sure that he entered at exactly the right time. As the timepiece ticked into place, Karl lifted a mask to his face and secured it before stepping out onto the dais.

Thank you all for coming, Karl started from underneath his mask once the crowd quieted upon his arrival. I realize that a conference such as this is dangerous to us all and I'd like to assure you that the utmost secrecy and security is in place to protect us.

Each of the participants wore masks identical to the one that Karl himself had on and even he did not know the identities of all of them. Once he had their complete attention, Karl went on.

It has been brought to my attention, however, that our worst fears may indeed be true and we need to decide how to act, and quickly, so that we can avert this disaster before it happens. Reports have been confirmed that there is indeed a rogue specimen who has evaded our notice and worked his way into a most powerful position within the Order. Unfortunately, his identity still remains unknown to us, and therefore it is paramount that we identify him as soon as possible to prevent any havoc he may be intent upon wreaking. It is our belief that this man is working not towards our own humble goals, but rather towards the goal of eradicating all of the other's like himself, making him that much more powerful.

A murmur spread over the crowd as they commented to each other at this news and he held up his hands for silence. He was given it almost immediately and he went on. Furthermore, it has become apparent that our secrets have been compromised, and therefore those of you who are secret keepers must be made aware that under no circumstances are the books to be revealed at this time and any attempt made to get to them should be reported and dealt with accordingly. We are unsure how the specimen has obtained the information that he has, but already several key figures have mysteriously disappeared lending us some clue. First credited to what the peasants called the 'back-alley killer', these murders are now thought to be caused by the specimen due to evidence and belief that these atrocious murders were done purposefully and methodically, not to mention that it is a fairly large leap for this serial killer to have jumped from murdering vagabonds and miscreants to assassinating members of the Order. As you know, we've been working towards steering the King towards a war with Treymayne to open the door for new blood into the line, but now it is our fear that rather than follow our prodding, he will be swayed by our yet unknown foe into another agenda altogether. We have no way of knowing how far this rogue’s influence has spread throughout our ranks. He paused once more and allowed the people to murmur amongst themselves whilst he gathered his thoughts.

How do you know that it's a rogue specimen doing all this? someone with a high-pitched voice asked.

Karl answered with as much patience as he could muster, recognizing the voice as belonging to a man he could hardly stand. Because the killings that were performed, as I said, were methodical. When I say methodical I mean that blood-magic was used, and in a degree that only one touched with the mark would be able to do. There also seems to be evidence that he is using these killings to further the research that the Dark King was dabbling in at the time of his death. Since none in our program save those with special leave to further our own research are allowed to use blood-magic, it must be one which has inexplicably escaped our supervision.

Do we have any leads as to how he obtained such forbidden information and infiltrated into the organization? another asked.

As I said, some key figures have disappeared who may have been instrumental in the specimen obtaining the information, but since the entire nature of our organization requires secrecy even from each other, it is difficult to know exactly what he may have gained from it.

Karl glanced down at his notes in front of him while the group spoke in low whispered voices amongst themselves.

What if he's one of us? a man in the back suggested ominously.

Karl strained to think of whose voice it was, but it frustratingly eluded him.

The conference room buzzed with excited activity once more and Karl did not bother to quiet them to answer the man. What if it was indeed.

*

Images swam before Nat as he struggled to see above the surface of the murky water. A dark blob floated before him, standing out in stark contrast to the bright light behind it. The blurred outline of a woman's face rippled into view. Nat increased his struggling as his focus started to falter and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. Just as he was sure that his lungs were going to burst, a pressure let up.

The hand released its hold on him and he surfaced, spitting out water as he gasped desperately for air. Five minutes, the woman purred. That's your best yet. You certainly have been accelerating your progress. She pulled him all the way out of the water and stepped back. He stood dripping on the edge of the stream, shivering with cold. The woman watched him, an odd look on her face.

The image blurred again and Nathair opened his eyes in his bathing room, the warm water lapping at his chin as he dozed in the comfy bath. He raised his hands to the sides of the tub and lifted himself out easily. He ran a self-conscious finger over a long white scar that ran across the length of his cheek, and took a deep breath to regain his sense of the present. He redirected his thoughts out of the past and concentrated on this afternoon's meeting. The Order really is quite a pitiful little organization, he mused. Oh, they survived and even flourished for some time, but their strict rules and precautions allow for no evolving with the time. I'd say most of them have no clue as to the real purpose behind their careful plans.

It worked well for him though.

Once he had figured out the patterns to their actions, it was easy to penetrate their inner workings and redirect their plans to instead accommodate his own humble goals. The Order was like a bee-hive, hundreds of drones set to the task they were given by their queen with no further concept of what they were working for other than the direct purpose they had drilled into their heads. Their grandeur ideas of secrecy prevented each other from obtaining any more knowledge than their superiors cared to give them, but it did not protect against the likes of him. When all he had to do was pluck the information out of their minds as he drained their life power from them, it was really quite easy. The only hard part was distinguishing which lies that the drones had been told had any real basis in truth and then piecing those truths together to form the big picture.

'Specimen' such as himself were not supposed to be able to rise any higher than the lowliest of servants in the Order to prevent them from realizing just what was being done to them. He had a momentary twinge of annoyance that they would assume to think that they were better than those like himself, but he shook it off. It is pointless to waste anger on such sad excuses for human beings. He chuckled, remembering the dissension he had caused in the secret meeting with his question implying that perhaps one of them could in fact be the one they were speaking of. Not that they had any idea what he was really up to. Why in the world would he want to kill other high talents? He laughed out loud.

In hindsight, he mayhap would not have enlightened them to the possibility that he was still in their midst, as very obviously from their outbreak none of them had had the wits to think of it themselves. Not that it would matter. The very basis of their society was to end any action and feign ignorance if any doubt was cast upon a situation therefore suspicious behavior would be expected and the very things meant to protect their secrets would actually protect him from their prying. Not only that, but he had gotten several leads as to who might be in possession of the books just by their reaction to Karl’s assertion that they would have to hide them.

This was the first time that he had had his guess regarding the reasons for invading Treymayne confirmed. The supposed goal of the Order was to breed those of his kind into the ‘perfect specimen’, at which time their beloved Sleeping God would return to them. However, Nathair knew that their real goal was to breed them for their own uses, not for the re-population of the world by this superior being as his own great King had planned. He had found no evidence of it yet, but he had no doubt that while they were breeding those marked into the perfect specimen they were also figuring out a way to control that specimen once it was created. And although he could appreciate their dedication to the continuance of the Master Race, they were too bold in their presumption that they should control it.

Nathair knew what the Dark King had planned for those like himself and he intended to fulfill his destiny. The Dark King had risen to power ages ago through an ingenious mix of force, fear, and persuasion and had unlocked the key to human advancement into godhood. Nathair had read the true histories, and they had fascinated him so much so that it had become a lifelong obsession. When he had realized that he was marked as a descendant of such a god, he had become convinced that it was his destiny to pick up where the Dark King had left off. In the histories, it told of how once in power the great King had proscribed a vast cleansing of humanity, wiping out the unworthy, and in his unshakable authority managed to cleanse a large portion of the population before he was overthrown by those too dull to comprehend the greater goal.

The histories ignorantly claimed that the purpose of this had been to further promote his perverted sense of self-importance which slowly grew into a belief that he was a god and therefore should father the new human race to repopulate once the wicked were cleansed. Nathair knew that despite the historians ridiculing of these notions of obtaining godhood, it was the truth. Having tasted the power that ran in his blood and realizing that it was only a tiny portion of the power actually available to him, the Dark King must surely have been a god in his own right.

The Dark King, once realizing that his blood was indeed godlike, recognized the need to propagate. So he used his own elite guardsmen, the Bloodguard, to carry out his master plan of engineering himself as close to perfection as possible and then ingraining into his blood a mark that would appear behind the right ear of his descendants so that they could recognize one another and continue his destiny. With the Bloodguard’s help, he started spreading his seed throughout the populace, charging it to them to carry out his mission.

In his devotion to this noble cause, the King had unfortunately ignored the plight of his people, and failed to recognize the building threat of revolt from the enslaved unworthy populace. As his attention was elsewhere, he failed to properly dispense the needed propaganda, and though the nobles were mostly happy to enjoy the free slaves and continue their bickering amongst themselves, using the guise of unworthy to unseat their rivals, there was much unrest. The common people were not carefully enough watched and they rose in a bloody revolt which ended with the death of the great King.

In the official histories, it is told that he was a crazed monarch who caused a Dark Age with much bloodshed, but was soon forgotten. But Nathair knew that not everyone forgot him. The Bloodguard did not forget, and neither did they forget their duty to the mark. Those who survived worked to preserve the information gathered, and in the Wordless Book they secretly tracked the marked individuals to reach the ultimate goal of the perfect specimen. Like most things, over the years this goal was evolved from the perfect specimen, to the perfect specimen for manipulative control. Nathair believed that the Order originally descended from this Bloodguard, eventually over time twisting and convoluting their true purpose to a false goal of breeding those marked for their own use, betraying their knowledge of those marked and ignoring their god's will.

Nathair planned to disabuse them of this notion when he carried out his destiny and became the god himself. He had yet to encounter one truly worthy foe within the Order. For the most part, he held them all in contempt. Even Jezebel, who upon first glance he had thought had perhaps more ambition than most had ended up disappointing him. It had been easy allowing them to think that they manipulated him onto the throne, when in fact he had known all along their plan and used it against them. And now, he would again use them to gain the forgotten knowledge and make himself into the form that his ancient King and God had intended for him.

He stood stark naked in front of the mirror and admired himself. Years of research had paid off, allowing him to sculpt his body into the perfection that it was now.

He stepped closer and frowned. A freckle had appeared on his left shoulder right below where the bone showed. He whisked a robe from the stand beside the mirror and hastily donned it; perhaps he'd go pay his guest a little visit.

*

Layna led Fly carefully across the gravel that lined the edge of the stream, looking for a good place to cross. Though it was into summer and the water was warm, Layna was still wary of the rushing current after her incident on the ice. She shuddered at the memory.

She'd much