Feral Mage Book 2: Chapter 31

Thea tossed and turned in her bed. She wasn’t sure how late into the night it was, but she knew she had woken several times already. The nightmares were becoming more frequent and more gruesome. The last one was of her dining with the Redpine family. A meal of laughter and joy, only for her to turn into her monster self and start slaughtering them. She felt bile rise in her mouth at the memory of her eating their corpses. Even though it was a dream, she knew what their flesh tasted like.

She left her bed for her wash basin in the corner of the room, hoping the coolness would help settle her stomach. Then she heard the scream. It was muffled, and she doubted anyone else in the castle would have heard, at least not this late at night, but she did. Quickly, she dressed, covering her disfigured body with the cloak and veil, then rushed from her room.

Her guards called out to her, but she kept moving, knowing time was of the essence. The screams were coming from outside, and she hurried to the nearest door to the garden. As she drew close, she smelled blood, faint at first, but it grew more and more, the sick iron scent.

The garden appeared deserted this late at night, or so she thought, until she spotted the glow of torches in the hedge maze. Thea entered following the smell of blood as she navigated through the walls of vegetation. She turned a corner of the maze, only for the scene to unfold before her.

“Stay back!” Baroness Julia cried out, her voice quivering with fear.

The Baroness was stark naked, blood covering her chest from a deep cut. Around her stood several Volpin soldiers as well as Count Gerland and her uncle. She was backed into a dead end of the maze, holding a pair of hedge shears up as a weapon.

“Quickly, get her back to the wine cellar,” her uncle commanded the soldiers.

Lord Gerland was the first to spot Thea. The nobleman turned and bowed to her with a warm smile on his face.

“Good evening, Lady Volpin. Are you enjoying the hedge maze?” he asked.

She was taken aback for a second. The man’s entire demeanor was out of place with what was happening around him. His posture and smile were welcoming, even though clearly something horrible was about to happen to Baroness Julia.

“Thea, dear. You shouldn’t be out here,” her uncle said, his tone simmering with anger. “Baroness Julia is unwell. She had some bad wine with dinner and injured herself. The Count and I are merely here to bring her to a healer.”

Her uncle smiled at her, but Thea’s gaze drifted to the object he held in his hand, a wooden ball with runes carved into it. The object looked like a mere child’s toy, but Thea felt her skin crawl at the sight of it.

“I said, stay back!” Baroness Julia yelled as a soldier tried to approach her again.

She lashed out with the shears, the blades closing on the soldier’s neck, cutting deep. Thea gasped as blood poured down his body and his head tilted to the side, but he kept moving. No screams escaped the soldier, not that he could with his throat completely slit. He displayed no signs of pain as his nearly decapitated head flopped on the bit of flesh and bone still holding it. Thea knew he should be dead, but he kept moving toward the Baroness.

He’s not human!

Thea’s wings spread out, casting the cloak off her back as she threw off the heavy gloves. Before her uncle or the Count could react, she launched herself straight into the air, coming down on the nearly headless soldier with her claws. She had aimed for his heart, figuring if that didn’t kill the creature, she would just have to dismember it. Her claw struck something hard under the flesh and closed around it before she ripped it free from his chest.

“Now, dear,” her uncle said. “I can explain this.”

She heard him. She heard Baroness Julia scream as the soldier’s body fell to the ground before her. Thea, though, just stared at the blood-covered wooden ball in her hand. She turned and looked in the direction of her uncle. The Count still wore his warm smile, the soldiers still stood at attention, all despite Thea no longer hiding her appearance. There was no reaction to her or the man she had just killed. Only her uncle displayed any emotions with a scowl.

“What are they?” Thea asked.

Her gaze went to the wooden ball in her uncle’s hands, one very similar to the object she just tore out of the soldier’s chest.

Her uncle smiled warmly.

“Puppets, dear. Just puppets.”

Thea watched as he lifted his hand out in front of him, his fingers moving as if pulling invisible strings.

“No different than my marionettes. Remember when you were a young girl, how you loved for me to put on a show. You would spend half the day laughing and clapping as I made them dance.”

A gasp of horror escaped Thea as Count Gerland and the soldiers began to move, their bodies stiff. She recognized it as a mimicry of the movements her uncle’s puppets would make during those plays.

“This is all I’m doing, Thea. Your dear uncle Harold is just putting on one of the grandest plays ever seen. A play that will shape the future of the continent and House Volson. Won’t you join me for this performance?”

Thea took a step back, staring in horror at the man she had called her uncle. Strange things she didn’t understand were starting to make sense. How quickly her uncle befriended Count Gerland, and the ease with which the Northern Alliance was created.

A knot formed in her stomach as she recalled how odd she thought it was that her father had arranged a marriage between her and the Prince of the Red Pine Kingdom. She felt numb as she asked the question.

“Is Father a puppet?”

Harold frowned as he dropped his hand, and the puppets lunged at her. Thea turned and ran into the dead end. Her clawed arms scooped up Baroness Julia before she drew a deep breath and used the power of her Fire Bull Aspect. Flames erupted from her mouth as she burned through the back of the hedge maze, her wings flapping as she flew over the embers that once were the wall of vegetation. Baroness Julia clung tightly to her, sobbing as Thea did her best to keep her claws from cutting into the older woman’s skin. She heard Harold yelling for her to come back, but Thea flew into the night sky, her heart racing.

Harold

“Thea! Come back!” Harold yelled.

He watched as his niece flew over the burning hedge, cursing himself. He should have told her his plan sooner. Let her adjust to the scope of it. Thea was an intelligent girl. She would understand. The endless wars over scraps of land along the kingdoms’ borders. Old grudges that never healed, only festered like a poisonous wound, slowly killing the body. He was ending it all.

“Thea! I’m sorry, dear!” his voice going hoarse. “Come Back!”

The Kingdoms of Deathridge and Graystone had each declared war on the Kingdom of Volpin within the last fifty years, feuds held by their families over land and deaths. Now they were their allies. Thea would see that.

Just a few years of keeping their Kings dancing on his strings as he guided and built toward stability. Then he would cut the strings. The Alliance, no longer a puppet, but a real body of power that looks to the Kingdom of Volpin for guidance.

Thea would understand if she listened to him explain. His beloved niece would stay and even aid him in this task. Together, they would build toward the future and give him time, the time he needed to finish her puppet.

Even if the monsters took his niece, he would have her back. Even if she died, he would have her back. He would fill her puppet with all the memories the two of them shared, only the happy ones. He would deny her the pain of what happened in the Red Pine Kingdom. Once again, his niece would laugh and clap as he put on a play for her.

“What’s going on?” a voice called out.

Harold frowned.

“The maze is on fire!”

The clamoring of voices grew as more and more left the castle to gawk at the flames in the garden. Harold just stared in the distance, seeing his beloved niece fly away from him. His heart ached knowing that without his help, the monsters would soon take over her. How many days did Thea have until she would be lost forever?

“Is that a monster?” someone yelled.

Gasps went up from the growing crowd, and the insistent noise grew from them as they began to speak to one another. They reminded Harold of a chicken coop, the hens clucking mindlessly.

He gritted his teeth as he overheard the first person suggest they send soldiers to kill Thea. The monster, as they referred to her. Others joined in, and Harold turned to leave the maze, his puppets following him. He saw the crowd that had formed when he exited. Many were nobles, the sons and daughters of nearby Barons and Counts. Those of any importance were already dancing on strings, those that were left… he had no use for…

“Kill them,” Harold commanded.

His puppet soldiers rush forward into the crowd. Screaming replaced the people’s annoying clucking as they were cut down. Harold rolled the wooden heart in his hand. His mind was considering what to do. Thea and Baroness Julia were minor hiccups in this grand plan. He doubted anything they could do would change the fate of the Brook Kingdom. Everything was already in motion.

Any protests or warnings the Baroness sent to the King would be drowned out by the praise others have been sending. He could even have his puppets send some letters to King Bradford, stating the Baroness was suffering from mental decline.

Still, it was best to err on the side of caution, he thought, as he moved back toward the castle. He needed to get to his puppets and send instructions to the commander of the Red-Shield Company. Perhaps they could even find Thea and return her to him.