Realms of Infamy - James Lowder [30]
"Sharven, thank you!" she exclaimed and kissed me.
Atera penned invitations all evening and sent the servants out with them in the morning. Most of the estates sent immediate acceptances.
While Atera worked with the seamstresses, the cooks, and the house servants, Raven and I read through our remaining books, preparing everything I needed for my revenge. Now we are prepared, and the party is at hand.
I have written what I can. Later, after I have dealt with my foes and my woes are over, I will finish this account.
* * * * *
It is difficult now to write, though the memories of my carefully orchestrated vengeance still burn clearly in my mind. And though it will take some time for me to capture all the events on paper, I will do so…
The pigs and fowl for our feast were turning slowly on their spits when I knocked on Raven's door. Inside his room, with its scrolls and ancient tomes, its vials of herbs and exotic incense, I claimed the magic he had prepared.
I pocketed the love potion for Atera, then held out my hand for the other, darker magic we had discussed. He gave me a tiny blood-red egg, so light it seemed hollow. I looked doubtfully at it. "Are you certain?"
"Swallow it whole, as I instructed," he said. "The shell will dissolve inside of you, and the creature will merge with your body."
Now that I was actually going to eat the thing, I found myself more concerned about its nature. "What precisely is it?" I asked.
"A dark spirit summoned here from the nether-realms to do exactly what you requested: destroy your worst enemy."
"A dark spirit." What little I knew about supernatural creatures made me less certain I should go through with this.
"Your victim will feel his life slowly drained by a force he cannot see."
Exactly the sort of end for Romul that I'd demanded! I swallowed the egg with great care, then sat and waited.
For some minutes I felt nothing. However just as I was about to voice my disappointment, something lurched deep within me, and the terrible power of the creature I had consumed exploded in my body. I bellowed in an inhuman voice, then lifted a massive oak chair with my weak arm and flung it against the wall. The wood splintered. The pieces scattered. My sight became keener, my hearing painfully acute. A rage such as I had never felt before took hold of me. I, and the monster within me, were ready for the kill.
The potency of the dark spirit made me uneasy. "If anyone in Espar detects sorcery, I will be an outcast in my own land," I reminded Raven, astonished at the force and strange hollowness of my voice.
"When the creature is released, it will be visible to you only. Even Lord Romul will not see it, though he will certainly feel its effects. He is an old man. If he dies during the duel, no one will think it odd. And you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you have indeed killed your greatest enemy."
With difficulty, I softened my tone to a hoarse whisper. "And if my greatest enemy is someone else?" I asked.
"Do you suspect anyone else?" he asked with some concern.
I shook my head.
"Then look at me."
I did as he asked. In a moment he began the final chant, ending with, "I charge the spirit that dwells within this man-when this human shell is cut and your host's blood is spilled, you will be released. Seek out Lord Sharven's worst enemy. Enter that body and drain its life, but do not destroy the spirit. Instead let the ghost of Lord Sharven's foe walk these halls forever, an impotent observer of all that happens here. When your task is finished, depart this place and return to your own nightmarish abode."
I listened to the words with great satisfaction, for they gave voice to the essence of my revenge. For the rest of our days, Lord Romul's ghost would watch Atera and me together. I could think of no more fitting end for his treachery.
Once Raven had finished his spell, I practiced walking with my new strength. When I thought it safe, I took the potion to Atera.
I had never seen her look so magnificent. Her long thick hair was braided with multicolor