Disclaimer: I do not own any for the works mentioned or characters used therein. They are the property of the author Anne Bishop and as of such, I do not seek to profit by her property, or to gain acclaim from them.
Why was I requisitioned again? Oh yes, because I am in the service of the High Lord of Hell. Yeah, the High Lord of Hell is my boss. Sounds exciting doesn't it? It's not. Saetan is mopping in his stupid study and has been doing so for the past thousand years or so. Can my job be any more boring? I mean I like being a butler, but I believe I am supposed to do something besides bringing yarbarah, the blood wine, to Saetan when he won't consume anything solid. Is it my fault he married that bitch Heketah? Is it my fault Dorthea stole his sons Daemon and Lucivar through her corruption of the Blood code of honor? Absolutely not.
So why am I the one witnessing his little temper tantrum when Char refuses to give him information? You would never know Saetan is having a temper tantrum. Really, the man appears collected, but when you got Heketah sniffing around his realm like the damn bitch she is you know there is trouble to be had. And that trouble would be Saetan's temper. It starts out cold as the winter ice that cover's Askavi's mountains and travels down your spine as he talks or should I say purrs with a sibilant hiss. It is a cold caress that freezes your marrow and makes your stomach churn. How Char is dealing with this I do not know. Brave little Warlord that Char. Soon it will go deeper and turn into the anger of the Blood Jewels and you can bet that Char will be sent back to the darkness from whence all the Blood come.
"Who makes the butterflies, Char?" It's starting. Oh boy…
"She's ours!" Whoa, quite the response to the High Lord little boy. Nicely done, but I think you are dead.
I stand there as still as a statue in hopes it will save my own life. I barely breathe. "Who makes the butterflies, Char?"
I can see Saetan is loosing it. I think the High Lord might actually be interested in this mysterious butterfly maker or else I think Char would be gone. Is he finally coming out of his shell? Prothvar, Adulvar and Memphis stand behind Char's chair blocking his exit. Suddenly all the defiance disappears from the little Warlord. "She wants to meet you," he says with a heavy sigh.
Thank the darkness. No blood will be shed tonight. "Bring her to the Hall tomorrow, Warlord," Saetan purrs.
Ah, maybe this is the beginning of something new. Maybe Saetan is leaving the land of the dead to come to the world of the living. If this is so there might be a chance that the reign of Dorthea and her kind will end. At least I hope so. If he does maybe he will reclaim his place in society as the only Warlord Prince besides his son who rules and wields the Black. Maybe the territory of Dhemelan in Taerelle will be freed from the corruption of the poison Dorthea spreads. Maybe even my own Hallaway will know peace. I am not sure any of this is possible. All I know is that something is coming. I can feel it in the deep psychic abyss where my power lies and tangles with the rest of my kind. I can sense a song of rage, joy, pain, hope and sorrow. The howling in the deep is growing. I know everyone in this room can sense it. I am not alone. I know not what this howling song is. But the butterfly maker is the catalyst. That much I can tell.
