Master of Chains - Jess Lebow [14]
Liam felt a calmness wash through him. Somehow, Samira could forgive him for what he could not forgive himself. How could she do that? Samira was an angel. That must be it. No other creature on the plane could have such love in her heart. No other creature would be able to see through her grief and not condemn the brother who lived for the death of the one who did not.
Angeline stared at Samira for a long moment, seemingly piecing together the words she had just heard. Then she turned to her youngest son, now her only son.
"And what of the rest of us?" she asked, glaring at Liam. "Samira may forgive you for Ryder's death, but your foolish little game has now put us all at risk."
Liam shook his head. "How?"
"Do you think those guards are blind? Do you think Purdun is stupid?" Angeline threw her hands in the air. "As soon as he realizes even one of you got away, he'll send his men out looking." She stepped up right into Liam's face. "And when they come looking, they will be looking for you. And when they find you, we will all be in jeopardy."
Liam put his hands to his head, rubbing his temples. He hadn't thought of that. "What do you want me to do? You want me to march to Zerith Hold and turn myself in?"
Angeline opened her mouth, but Samira cut her off.
"No. Absolutely not." She stared at Angeline until the older woman looked away, then she turned to gaze at Liam. "We've lost enough of our family for one day, I think."
A tense silence filled the house, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
Liam watched his mother, not knowing what to say to her.
She watched him back, a stern look of disapproval on her face. Then the anger in her eyes faded, replaced by sadness, and she wrapped her arms around him. "You're right," she said, sobbing again. "I'm sorry, Liam. I'm sorry."
CHAPTER 3
Two hooded figures stood before the mausoleum in the ruins of the cemetery outside Dajaan. A jagged hole in the ground slowly closed, taking with it the eerie green glow, the thick wisps of fog, and the demon the two men had summoned. All that remained was an open archway and a dark passage leading deep into the stone structure.
One of the men removed his hood, revealing a young half-elf with graying hair, ashen skin, and a long scaly ridge running from the back of his head down his neck and into his heavy robe. He wore a golden torque with five large oval rubies laid into its surface-the traditional symbol of power for the baron of Impresk.
"I hope you're right about this," said the bejeweled man.
The still-hooded man nodded. "I assure you, Lord Tammsel, the tomb offers all that you desire and more." He bowed and held his open palm out, as if offering the baron the tomb's entrance as a gift.
The half-elf eyed the darkened opening to the mausoleum. Then, adjusting his grip on his axe, he stepped forward and into the darkness. As he crossed the threshold, a torch came to life, filling the entrance with a thin, flickering light.
The hooded man took the torch from its sconce. "This way, my lord," he said, indicating a flight of stairs leading down deeper into the tomb.
The two men followed the low light down the dusty stairway. At the bottom they stepped out into a large room filled wall to wall with stone sarcophagi. The lids on all of them were ajar.
Baron Tammsel stepped up to an empty sarcophagus. Not even the bones of the occupants remained.
"It looks as though we are too late," said the baron. "This tomb has already been raided."
"We are not petty thieves, my lord," assured the hooded man. He walked farther in, heading for a raised platform in the middle of the room. "We are here for a much greater purpose."
The half-elf wearily followed his companion to the center of the room. There, atop a stepped dais, sat a beautiful coffin carved in the shape of a human woman.
The hooded man took all of the steps in a single bound and lifted the torch, casting a weak circle of light over the entire coffin. The baron scanned the room, seemingly very uncomfortable in the bowels of the tomb.