Run This City
Chapter 1

Dhemlan, Kaeleer

"Bitch," Taelvar snarled.

"Bastard," Aaliyah retorted, narrowing her eyes at him irritably.

"Mother Night, both of you shut up." Yas rubbed his forehead, looking over the papers that had collected over Aaliyah's desk in the last few weeks. They were meant to be kept secret from everyone who wasn't the young Dea al Mon Queen, but she didn't follow any rules she didn't set herself. "You're both bitches and bastards," he snapped when Taelvar and Aaliyah began to growl at each other. "Now be quiet."

"Papa!" Aaliyah bit back, turning her blue eyes to glare at him. "Taelvar started it."

"What are you, five?" Taelvar snarled at her. "You're a grown woman, Aaliyah. We're a bit too old to indulge in a pissing contest over nothing, aren't we?"

Yas groaned and watched the two bare their teeth at each other. It would be useless to try to make them leave each other alone. Even when she was a child Aaliyah always had a talent for riling Taelvar's temper. In turn, Taelvar spent years finding every trigger and button to push to bring out the worst in Aaliyah. Sometimes he thought it was a game to them because they certainly didn't mean to hurt each other, but when they were together in the same room for too long they began to scrape his temper.

"Where are you going, Yas?" Aaliyah asked when she was done spiting and hissing at Taelvar and realized he was clearing off her desk.

"To find a quieter room," he said.

"No, you can stay, Papa!" Aaliyah stood up and tugged the papers out of his hands, replacing them on her desk. "We'll be quiet, won't we Taelvar?"

Taelvar nodded.

"Thank you," he muttered and sat back down. "Aaliyah," he growled warningly when she glared at Taelvar again.

"I didn't say anything," she muttered.

Yas kept his eyes locked on her until she looked away uncomfortably. She was his daughter, adopted not long after her parent's death during the first Landen uprising only two months after her third birthday. A male family member brought her to Dhemlan to keep her safe. He didn't know her parents or what happened to that male after he left, but he'd taken her in honor of their memory. She was almost twenty now with long white-blonde hair she kept tied to the side and large blue eyes. Looking at her, he could almost imagine what her mother must have looked like and if it was anything like Aaliyah, she'd been beautiful.

"Yas?" Taelvar asked, raising his eyebrows in question. "I think you're making her uncomfortable."

Hearing the genuine concern in the Eyrien's voice, Yas nodded and turned his eyes back to the papers. When he glanced up, Taelvar was holding one of Aaliyah's pale hands in his own with his face turned toward her. She was smiling, her fingers curling around his in response. Sometimes it was hard to understand them. They spent so much time torturing and pushing each other to point of insanity but when everything came together, there were no better friends. It was easy to see how much they truly cared about each other when they didn't think anyone was looking.

Taelvar came from a particularly abusive and unstable background so for him to reach out to anyone impressed Yas. It was in the nature of a Warlord Prince to possess and protect the females they cared about, but it seemed as if it was Aaliyah who protected him. When Aaliyah came in to her power, and outranked them both it would be interesting to watch the way her court interacted.

"I'm sorry you're stuck with all that paperwork, Yas." Aaliyah was looking at him again, her hands folded in her lap. "I just don't understand the politics behind it."

"Which is a problem," Yas said absently. "What are the Landens trying to pull?"

"What is it?" Aaliyah asked.

"They're requesting our surrender without terms," Yas growled out. "I'll be damned if I let you sign these."

"If they thought we would sign these they're stupider than I thought," Taelvar said.

"No," Yas said. "These papers were meant for Aaliyah, not me. It's common knowledge she's not exactly…well-versed in court politics and the wording is meant to confuse anyone who doesn't read carefully or know the right terminology. I think they hoped she would sign them right away to avoid reading them a second time and without showing them to anyone."

"Why me?" Aaliyah asked. "Have they sent this request to every Queen, or just me?"

Taelvar shrugged.

"You, I'd guess. They're going Territory at a time. You're going to be Queen of Ebon Askavi," Yas said. "Don't give me that look, Aaliyah. When you make your Offering, you'll walk away with the Black. The Blood still rule the Realms, despite what the Landens may think. If you can get the Territory Queens to surrender their land to you, it may be enough to quell the fighting."

"And if it's not?" Taelvar asked.

Yas was silent for a long time, considering the question. A long time ago, Jaenelle Angelline purged the Realms of the tainted Blood. To do the same with the Landens who slaughtered the Blood wouldn't be as dangerous but he wasn't sure he was willing to risk Aaliyah's safety that way. Unless someone else purged the Realms while she and Taelvar shielded those who remembered what the Blood were.

"I have an idea," he said. "If it comes to that, we'll need a Black Widow to weave the trap."

"Allegra," Aaliyah suggested.

"If she ever gets out of Dejaal's bed," Taelvar snorted.

Yas rolled his eyes. The sex lives of their housemates weren't something he wanted to know about or discuss. Gathering the papers, he stacked them neatly in the center of the desk and pushed away from it.

"When are these expected to be returned to the Landens?" he asked.

"A messenger is coming to get them tomorrow," Aaliyah said. She tucked the longest strands of her bangs behind her ear. "What are you planning, Papa?"

"I'll meet him with you," Yas said. "Taelvar will come as well."

"I will?" Taelvar lifted his head curiously.

"Yes," Yas said. "Is that a problem?"

Taelvar shook his head.

"Good." Glancing at the clock, he noted the time. "Go to bed, Aaliyah."

Aaliyah frowned. "You're still allowed to tell me when to go to bed?" Grumbling, she crossed her arms over her chest and stood up. "We'll see if you still do that when I outrank you," she muttered as she left the room.

Taelvar grinned and moved to follow her. "I'll make sure she gets there."

"That's all you'll do," Yas said, hoping Taelvar would appreciate the threat beneath the words.

There was no male he trusted more than Taelvar when it came to Aaliyah's safety, but when it came to her bed that trust faltered. He couldn't deny the attraction between them and while it was true Aaliyah hadn't had her virgin night yet, her first time couldn't be spontaneous. Too much depended on that night to leave it to chance.

Taelvar nodded and slipped out of the room.

Yas left Aaliyah's study a few minutes later and locked the door behind him. With Aaliyah tucked into bed and Taelvar presumably with her, he stepped into his own room and found his sheets wrapped snugly around the body of Raquel, an often-temperamental Dhemlan witch. She was fast asleep on the side of the bed he usually occupied, but it wasn't often she came to his bed so he wasn't inclined to complain.

Undressing, he tugged the sheets out of her hands and crawled in beside her. As he was falling asleep, he felt her roll over and readjust, draping an arm over his abdomen. The touch, unconscious as it was, was a comfort—and reminder.

They couldn't surrender.

--

Dharo, Kaeleer

Kane yawned and rubbed his eyes.

The inn he was staying at with Julian and Johanna was luxurious compared to the one they stayed in while in Askavi, and the owner, a sweet older woman, prided herself on cleanliness and it was clean, but something about it felt dirty. He was uncomfortable and it wasn't likely he'd be able to sleep, but they were already there and it was one of the few inns that still accepted Blood occupants.

The smell of cinnamon hung heavy in the air and distantly, he could hear the sound of a wooden flute being played, a lullaby that his mother always sang to him when he was a child and refused to close his eyes at bedtime. Right now, the song was anything but soothing. It formed an inconstant wall of sound that prickled at his temper for reasons he couldn't understand.

"You feel it too?" Julian asked from his spot on his bed.

Kane looked at him. He was propped up on an elbow, running his fingers through Johanna's light red hair while she slept, curled into him. It wasn't just his prejudices that made their relationship make him uncomfortable, it was Johanna. For all the years he'd known her, and it had been many, he didn't trust her. And she had Julian wrapped around her finger, but as far as he was concerned, she would never be good enough for him. Telling him that would be a mistake he wanted to avoid.

"Yeah," he said tiredly. "Are you sure we should have brought Johanna with us, Julian?"

Four days ago, they'd gone through one of the thirteen gates connecting the Realms of Terreille, Kaeleer and Hell. They'd left behind family and friends, hadn't told them they were going until they were actually ready to leave. It hadn't been hard to go until he watched their childhood friend Karma start to cry. She'd hugged him, kissed him, but she hadn't asked him to stay. Would it have made a difference if she had?

"I couldn't have left her," Julian admitted with a gentle smile. His golden eyes set on Johanna, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. "I saw Karma when she found out we were going, and…I don't think I could ever put Johanna through that."

"Right," Kane said slowly, narrowing his eyes at her sleeping form briefly. "It's not easy. There were so many things I wanted to say to her that I couldn't because if I had, I don't think I could have left."

Julian nodded. "Where are we going?"

"I have a cousin who lives in Dhemlan, just past Halaway. He works with what's essentially a refugee 'resistance' type organization run by a Dea al Mon Queen and an Eyrien Warlord Prince, Aaliyah and Yas."

"Yas isn't an Eyrien name," Julian said.

"It's short for something." He lay down and pressed his head back against the light feather pillow at the head of the bed. "I asked Taelvar but he doesn't know."

"Taelvar?" Julian raised an eyebrow. "That's your cousin's name?"

Kane nodded.

"He's Eyrien?" Julian sputtered, looking thoroughly shocked. "I knew you had family here, but you never told me you had an Eyrien cousin."

"We're not exactly on the best of terms," Kane murmured.

He didn't remember when he and Taelvar had began to dislike each other, or even why. But they were family and when they needed to, they helped each other out. There were too few Blood left to risk losing another over petty differences. They indulged in competition with one another, trying to outdo the other whenever a chance presented itself. It wasn't a friendly rivalry by any means, but any confrontation was broken up before it escalated to violence.

"If you two don't get along, are you sure we should be doing this?"

"He's the one who suggested I come," Kane said. "Although, I doubt he predicted I'd be brining a Landen with me."

"What's he like?" Julian asked.

Kane pressed his lips together and shook his head. "If you take a regular Eyrien's arrogance and temper, add the protective instinct and violence that comes with a Warlord Prince and times that a thousand and you have Taelvar."

"O-oh," Julian stammered. "I look forward to meeting him."

Kane snickered. "No you don't."

The lights went out and Julian lay down, wrapping an arm around Johanna.

The room was silent, but Kane lay awake for a long while after that, considering the reasons Taelvar called him to Kaeleer. He hadn't said anything out right, but for Taelvar to reach out to him of all peopel, something was wrong.

Two days, he told himself. He'd know in two days.

--

Glacia, Kaeleer

"What was her name?" Annaleigh, the Territory Queen from Glacia asked as she gazed down at the body sprawled across the bed. Sorrowfully, she knelt down and closed the dead woman's eyes out of respect.

"Kalia, she was a witch from Scelt," said old innkeeper. His voice was a deep timbre behind her where he was standing in the doorway, unable to make the commitment of fully stepping into the room. "She and her husband came seeking refuge five days ago. Seemed happy enough."

"What of her husband?"

The innkeeper shrugged uncomfortably. "There was nothing outstanding about him. He left and came back around noon, started such a fuss that the rest of us came running." He nodded toward the body. "He found her like that."

"I see," Annaleigh said. She tucked the woman's arm, which hung limply over the side, to her body. Pulling the sheets up and over the body, she stood back up and observed in a dispassionate way, how the sheets rose to cover her mid-section. "They baby is no more." She reached for the scrap of paper that was found with the body. "Poison, was it?"

"Witchblood mixed with tea," he replied promptly, refusing to meet her gaze. "A quick death, I would think."

Then the fool didn't know how Witchblood worked.

"I doubt it that the death was any less painless for its quickness," she said sadly.

"I suppose you're right," the innkeeper said. "It's all very strange, we never get any trouble around here, so we thought to call you. We hoped you may have some answers."

Annaleigh unfolded the note and read the messy scrawl.

The burden was too great; Darkness forgive me. I was not strong enough.

She looked back down at the sheet-covered body.

"Mother Night," she whispered, "Mother Night."