Chapter 13 The Call of the King
Jon sat still, his mind being flooded with visions of Jonarad’s final moments.
“What do you see?” Gilly asked.
“They are talking. Jonarad is not her father, but her uncle. They are, among other things, lovers. She is on his lap, he tilts his head back to laugh and she cuts his throat.
Gag, I think I am going to puke. She plays in his blood and then she plays on top of him…she is delighted that he is still hard.”
“A necrophiliac,” and Ellen did gag.
“Not quite,” Jon responded. “He is still alive or I would not be seeing this. But she thinks he is dead so I guess she is a necro dancer. She tosses him into the fire. There is searing pain and then nothing…”
“Do you know where?” Gilly asked.
“I do not recognize it. But it is sumptuous. Jonarad is bandaged and resting in a chair. Must be his private quarters.”
“Can you get there?” Ellen asked. “I mean, like right now? Catch her while she is still there?”
“The most direct route is The King’s Bridge to The Portal at The Henge. Those, I have an excellent visual of. I do not remember Jonarad’s home.”
“Do your best,” Ellen smiled at him. “We will be here waiting.”
“Our time moves differently there, Ellen. One of your days is equal to about two and one half of ours. I do not like the idea of leaving you here with Joniad on the loose.”
Ellen looked at Gilly and Jody and then over at the three babies who were now napping.
“I would not put the babies at risk,” Ellen replied. “Or Jody or Gilly.”
“She will be coming this way,” Jon replied. “I am sure. Gilly, what say you?”
“Yes,” he nodded, “she won’t be able to help, herself. She sent all three of her children, here, hoping for madness and mayhem Jon, directed at you.”
Jon nodded in agreement. “Gilly, you and the family need to be somewhere else. I think that is just the safest. She will be carrying whatever Dragon’s Ash she has left. Perhaps looking to poison someone so that they carry the madness permanently, as in the rest of their days. Not just on the night of no moon.”
“Only thing to do,” Ellen said, “is to pull on the spider’s web and force her to come out.”
“So be it,” Jon nodded. “We bring her to us. I want this bitch to burn for an eternity. No resting among the stars for her.”
“Time to beat the bushes,” Gilly nodded. “Just a short trip back, Uncle. Let the locals know.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I’ll only be gone perhaps thirty minutes, but I want all three of you with a loaded pistol until I return.”
“I will make that happen,” Ellen ran her hand down his face.
“A kiss for luck,” he grinned at her, “then I am gone.”
When Jon landed in the center of The Portal, he felt his body contract and cool as he once more took human shape.
Bowing his head to The Rosy that glittered in the sky above him, he called out to the wild and the tame and the sociable and the hermits of The Old Country. He stood patiently, as lights began to appear. Soon, the hovering illuminations out shone the stars in the night sky.
Quietly he waited until each clan was represented. Their colors danced in front of him.
“Be fearful,” he began, his voice echoing through time and space. “For on The Portal stands the King of the Supernaturals who comes seeking evil and its end.” His vibration carried along with his voice. That was two for two. Steadying himself, he was preparing to throw out his will, churning the universe with the glorified triumvirate of the precise, lethal, fatal three.
The only thing that spoke to his human nature at this moment was his regard for the sanctity of life that walked a path that was lit with goodness. The light on that path was Ellen and she kept him in check. Everything else that radiated out of him, he was sure, spoke to the Twillard side of his nature.
All those present would remember the night of his crowning. His anger had roared through the air currents and shook the stars!
Right now, with the speech he was going to make, he was sure that perverted bitch would flee back to Earth to escape the angry villagers.
When he found her there, he was pulling her head off. As a Twillard, he knew she could appreciate that. Going that extra mile to make the perfect kill.
Keeping his voice calm, but filled with hatred and loathing, he spoke to the gathering crowd of her atrocities. And as he talked, his anger mounted! The heavens did nothing to calm him. As a child, he would gaze up at the night sky and find solace. When he lived with Drust, he found love and acceptance under those divine lights that pulsed the secrets of the universe.
Now, with these shining souls as witness, he was going to find this evil that thought to stalk his family.
“Turn over every rock, look in every hole,” his voice carried on the night wind. “Check every nest and if need be, in the name of the your king, torch any dwelling where you are denied entrance. You find the evil that calls herself Joniad and you either terminate her or drive her out of our land. Start with Jonarad’s quarters. She has destroyed him and I have inherited his ways. His last vision was of her slitting his throat and throwing his yet living body into the fire.
I require proof of her death,” he said. “Bring me her body and your king shall reward you in a rich and grand manner. And your name shall live on in our histories and in our songs.
If she flees to the stars, I will be waiting for her there. Go, and do the will of you King!” he roared.
The crowd dispersed and left him standing, admiring the stars. Drust had held his heart, under this canopy of beautiful lights. Now Ellen owned his heart under a different magnitude of stars.
Ellen…there was a flutter of a smile about his lips. It was time to go home.
Jon knocked on their front door and when Ellen opened it she hugged him and said, “Thirty minutes, exactly.”
Holding her close he stepped in and closed it. With his chin resting on the top of her head he said, “Gilly, it is set in motion. You need to take your family home.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Jody, let’s gather up the babies.”
“Your house is in a mess,” she sighed. “If you’ll…”
“No,” Ellen shook her head. “You and the children are to be gone. Now. Everything is fine just the way it is.”
“Okay,” she nodded. “Gilly, I’ll grab the diaper bag and get Gretta.”
“I’ll get the other two,” he replied as he bent down to pick up his sleeping son and daughter, Ellen helping him to wrap them snugly in their lovies.
“Hand me the keys and I’ll start the van,” on Jon’s face was a set look. “I do not mean to hurry you, but let us hurry. I smell snow.”
The soapy bubbles that floated on top of the water were tainted red as Jonarad’s life force was sponged from her body.
The bath was very lovely and carried a swan motif. The fire irons in the fireplace were resplendent black swans in full flight. Their wings holding the logs.
Her uncle had exquisite taste in all things and shopped in only the most expensive of boutiques on Earth for his bathing products. There was nothing masculine about this bathing room. “I wonder if this is where he brought the high ranking women whose husbands’ had eyes every where to seduce them?”
And then she frowned. He had never brought her, here. She had not even been allowed a glance in his inner sanctum. There go-to fuck place was a cheap hotel in Vegas. Inside, the anger began to mount as she swatted at the water, sending water, blood and bubbles airborne and splattering against the floor and wall tiles.
“His cheap ass shall not interfere with my bath,” she smiled as she willed her anger back into place.
The water was warm and the soap was hand-milled, with the finest subtle fragrance, as she washed the blood languidly from her body and hair. All of her waking moments should be like this, calm and peaceful and full and rich. Especially rich.
Then something was wrong! Joniad felt the vibration of the King’s Call and then heard his voice carry on the wind.
Standing, she wrapped herself in silk. Damn, that had happened faster than she had anticipated! Leaving the bath, she dried off and dressed. “He must really be Jonarad’s heir…” she thought about that as she began to hurry. “And he is pissed. Torch anywhere you are denied entrance! Really! What the fuck, Jon? Maybe he was your father, but he was a selfish bastard. He would not have loved you if you had been a legitimate heir. I did you a favor. Can you not see that? He is gone, you inherit and get to rule forever. This is my gift to you.”
With her mouth open, she heard his next words. ‘You find the evil that calls herself Joniad and you either terminate her or drive her out of our land.’
“I gave you a gift!” she screeched. Fucking men and their fucked up loyalties!”
Well fuck, his true heir! Jon would know other things as well…Jonarad’s last vision would be what…her sitting on his lap…and then death…so, they would start here. Pity, she had hoped to hide behind these doors for several days.
Since she had limited wealth, she did not have boltholes all over The Old Country. It was easier to get lost on Earth, but then, there was the dirt that clung to you, the stench that could cause you to stricken, and the noise that constantly assailed your psyche.
Listening, the King’s purpose carried on the wind. They were coming here! It was time to haul ass.
“Well, best to live on earth…that would be better than having my body beset by the king crazed mob,” she reasoned, as she was out the doors and off the balcony and getting her bearings to the nearest portal. As she approached it, she realized her mistake.
“I should have doubled back,” she hissed. “So very fucking late for that brilliant thought now. Of course I am heading to the portal closest to Jonarad’s.”
“That’s her! She’s running!” she heard someone shout. That bastard, it sounded like Seaview!
“I’ll be back for your guts,” she turned and screamed to the crowd as she dashed through the rocks, felt The Portal accept her and she began to spin and started her trek to the stars.
Star hopping left her with time to consider her options. And she knew she did not have many.
This was not good, not good at all. She needed money if she was going to spend any time at all on Earth. And she needed a few other things as well.
She would have to risk it. Return to The Realm.
Would there be someone at her home, yes. Would there be someone waiting for her at Jonarad’s? Probably not. His palace was huge and because he was such a cheap bastard, his staff was small.
And he liked to flaunt his wealth. There were jewels just sitting in a bowl on his desk. Along with a few other easily pilfered items that would be useful. Those small bits of nothing would buy her time on Earth. But she would have to be careful about where she pawned those small trifles.
Because of her wrongdoing, word would be passed at an alarming rate. London was off limits!
L.A….just fuck and fall backwards in it! The last time she was there she was a drug lord, pimping the stuff of the realm and rolling in money…then she became a much sought after drug lord…seems her stuff was so good the other low lifes were coming after her wanting to know who supplied her with the killer magic before they tortured and killed her.
New York was out as well. Family flocked there in the winter, desperate for the ballet and Broadway shows. She did not understand this and just always smiled and nodded in agreement when everyone commented on how much better the sound quality was in the winter. That the air was not as thick like it was in the other seasons. At times, the relatives just made her brain hurt.
Oh good, she was inbound.
Silently and with her lights dampened, she landed on top of a portal. The moment of truth would be when she stepped through in her bodily form, but all seemed good so far.
Walking through the towering, pulsating rocks, there was no one waiting for her on this side. Good. Carefully and sure of foot, she would make her way back to Jonarad’s. Once there, she would help herself to what was needed and then haul ass to…to…someplace to dispose of the goods. It would have to be Vegas. This would allow her to live comfortably for a few days, get her thoughts together and maybe make a few more dollars at the tables. Fingering the pendant around her neck, she thought about the better days to come. Lovingly, she caressed the jewel and smiled. All she had to do was break it open and Dragon’s Ash would redefine someone’s world, in a nightmarish, hellish way.
It was quiet at Jonarad’s. No one in the yard, no one screaming for her blood…that was a plus and she took it as a sign. The balcony doors were still open. Good. She was headed there. Landing sure of foot on the upper tier and with only a whisper of a breeze, she became one with the night, her essence absorbed by the shadows around here. Stepping out from her cover, she looked in. Nothing appeared to be out of place. With a bit more confidence, she stepped in. The fire was still huge and roaring, she could smell the soap and the faint undertone of blood. Carefully she scouted the area…the bed had been turned back…what the fuck was that about?
A part of her mind started screaming at her to run…but it was too late. The collar was around her neck, her feet had been knocked out from under her and she was being pulled along.
“How many of my sons have your fucked?” she heard the voice and blinked.
“Grandfather…” she began.
“Answer my question,” he shoved her to the ground with his foot. Sitting down in his son’s chair, he felt the heat of the fire and now the heat in his loins. Jonarad kept a mistress in the palace. When he was bloodied with this one, she would be called into service to clean him.
“All of them except my father Hurst,” she simpered, cowering before him. “All of them studly, well hung, all of them a supreme fuck in their own way.
Keep small, show fear, cower,” she kept repeating to herself as she formulated her plan. “Tell him what he wants to hear!”
“Hurst is your father?” the old man chuckled in surprise. “And he told me he did not like women. Well at least he like one woman well enough…good for him.
But I think,” his voice became soft, “that that is bad for me. For lying before me is the product of Hurst’s lying and cheating ways. He was a scoundrel of the finest sort. A true robber baron. Reginald was just a shallow pool compared to the deep depths of lusting want that Hurst burned with. That you are his daughter, I can see that now.
Pity I did not know that earlier,” the old man was lost in thought. “Oh the things that could have been. Best not to linger there,” he sighed and then fixed his sight on her once more.
“I told Jonarad he should have collared your mother before he bedded her. I had heard that she was loose in her ways and her glance was filled with lewdness. And then the moment you pushed out and took your first breath, a collar and chain to keep you at home and your chastity valued.
No one listens to me…” he huffed. “Not even my heir. He married the loosest slut of the day, despite my advice, produced his heir under a Wish Granting star shower and told me to fuck off. This is what happens when you do not listen to your elders,” he grumbled. “The family is made a mockery. We produce a Halfling for a king and I have a granddaughter who shunned a good marriage and fucks her relatives.
Which begs the question,” his voice was serious, “I thought we had an agreement…you and I…did we not? I thought you knew that I would not look favorably on these types of antics. That at all times, you were to be low key, so that there would be no suspicious looks cast my way when my oldest son died.
You assured me that was possible.
Instead, The King comes calling personally and lights up the entire realm looking for you with his fierce eyes and sharp fangs being cast my way.
The King, looking my way…” his voice was angry. “I cannot very well sit in front of my fire and do nothing,” he said in disgust. “So here I am, sitting in front of Jonarad’s fire, hoping that you have bathed in enough blood so that I can just offer you as the sacrifice and beg the King’s forgiveness. I no longer believe that you are going to be capable of killing Jon, or even maiming him. With me dragging your body as an offering, I shall be the one to get close enough to him to do it.
Then, with all of my magic returned to me,” his voice carried the note of a dreamer, “I shall be more that any other house,” he laughed softly “and be able to declare myself king…” he said with arrogance, “and put an end to this insanity of having to pass a test,” he raised his arms and shouted out to the heavens! “Just what the fuck! Either you are born to greatness,” he stood and stretched his arms outward, “or you are not. Being smart has nothing to do with it…” he jumped up on the ottoman, his head thrown back, his voice raging, “it is all skill and showmanship!”
“Just does not get any fucking easier than this,” she grinned. Lunging upward with her knife, his blood went everywhere as his guts spilled out onto her.
Jubilations sang in her blood!
Twice in one day! A Twillard died at her hands with her knife, their blood nourishing her skin. This, this is what living should be like! Death! Death to Twillard men, wherever their corrupt souls might be!
Pausing in her celebration of self, she had a defining moment and remarked with wonder in her voice, “Wherever Jon is, he has just inherited the mother-load.
Which means he will be back. I need a quick jump in the tub, grab a robe and jewels and be gone!”
Passing by Jonarad’s desk, she stopped to finger the bag that Grandfather had started to fill with wealth and then had been distracted by the whiskey. It was the good stuff he had located, Jonarad’s private stock…the very good stuff…ah-h-h-h-h. Tipping up the bottle, she shivered all over as she sat it down, patted it like she would a lover and with a song in her heart headed for the bath.
Jon was in a chair by the fire, with Ellen on his lap discussing the day when he felt the magic surge through him.
“What,” Ellen asked, “I can feel it. You are…effervescenting…I can feel it though your skin.”
“Grandfather Gladwell Twillard is dead. Just now. Joniad must have slipped back in. Grandfather was at Jonarad’s. Helping himself to his not yet cold son’s things. She gutted him.”
“Her favorite method,” Ellen commented, her eyes on her husband. “I’ll pour more bullets.
Jon smiled at her and kissed her. “I have seen you shoot. You will only need one.
Sister dear will definitely be coming this way, she has no choice in the matter, now. She understands in her head, that if she kills me, she will not inherit the magic because she is not a legal heir. But in her heart, she wants it…she wants it all. And believes it can all be hers.”
“What do we do?” she laid her forehead against his.
“We wait,” he kissed her on the lips. When she kissed him back, he carried her off to bed.