Chapter Eleven
A Familiar as Deadly as its Master
"I mean… so can you," she said, pulling away as she pressed one last kiss to his hand, dark eyes flashing at him.
Unfortunately, that was untrue.
Painfully untrue.
Otherwise, she would be in his grasp by now. Both of their needs being satiated, repeatedly.
Only his left hand was free of Elyon's spell, and the magic was twisting down his arm, reclaiming lost ground. Her spell was set to correct itself, if damaged. So he only had a few more minutes.
The fact the Keeper tore through the spell without even knowing was fascinating. The Heart was clearly fully awake, doing her bidding even if she didn't voice the command. He wondered, was the Earth Regent compelled to push her to forsake the Heart? As her closest confidant, he would have had the best chance at getting her to give up her status without trouble. Or was that boy really foolish enough on his own to try to tear the Keeper from that creature?
And the fact the nymph removed the spell for her mistress' pleasure, with such little care about who he was, showed it did not care about anything beyond the Keeper.
He made a mental note to stay on that creature's good side, as it was beyond the normal concepts of morality.
Phobos sighed, knowing it was time for them to part, and he stood, deciding to seize a different opportunity. "I believe it's time for you to find your companions. They will come looking for you soon, won't they?"
She deflated, looking disappointed, but nodded. "You're right. I promised them not to run off so much." Standing, she smiled weakly at him. "I'll see you later. Maybe try some of the food? The ice-cream is really good." And she turned and walked away.
Once she was gone, his bonds let him head to the beach. His guards were nearby, laughing with some servants. Phobos entered his tent and closed the flap. He looked around in his trunk and pulled out a hand mirror. Lifting the mirror over his wooden trunk, he dropped it, as his arm was still chained by magic and he couldn't do violent actions, like smashing it.
It cracked, loosening a large shard in the center that he grabbed. He looked around, frustrated not finding anything suitable.
With more hesitation than he liked, he removed the circlet. Kneeling on the ground, he sat the circlet down.
"To me, frog, I know you are near," he called.
There was a croak, and the frog crawled from under the lip of a nearby wall.
"Foolish thing. In the belly of the beast, you are," he chided.
It hopped over, sitting expectantly before him.
"But, we can escape this pit together," he offered, placing the circlet around the frog. "Let's finish this pact that you seek."
The frog croaked, glowing blue.
Phobos took the shard in his free hand and squeezed, pain blooming with blood. He lifted his hand over the frog, letting the blood hit it in thick drops.
"You seek a master," he said, his own magic seeping out with the blood, electric white sparks lighting the tent. "I accept this offer. I bind you to my blood, my magic, my life. You are my familiar, vessel of my power." The blood soaked into the frog's skin, not a single drop wasted. "Vessel of my knowledge." He moved and dripped blood on the circlet. "This shall link us, past space and realms." The black onyx soaked each drop as well. "You shall always hear my call, and I yours."
He dropped the shard aside and placed his bloodied palm before the frog. It hopped on his hand, soaking in both the blood and his magic, his life-force. The blue on its body changed to a blinding white.
"Name yourself, creature," he ordered. "Speak your first words."
The frog drew in a breath, body a blazing white.
"Achilles."
Phobos smirked, fitting, given everything.
"Do you accept me as your master?"
Another deep breath. "Yes."
And with that, the spell broke.
Quickly, he slid the circlet on his head as he ordered, "Away, to my chamber. You are too weak to be of use to me yet. I cannot risk you being caught. The magic I performed may draw her here."
The frog nodded, truly sentient, eyes understanding. It turned and hopped away, crawling under the lip of the tent and leaving.
"I told Elyon I would check it out," a female voice called.
"But why me, babe? I have some more waves to hit," another female voice answered.
"Because you were the closest and I'm not going in there myself!" snapped the first.
"Ugh, fine! Fine! Let's just make this quick. Knock! Knock! This is the magical police department, princy poo. We are coming in!"
"Really?" the other sighed as the flap opened.
"What? I mean, I'm fine with seeing him indecent, but are you? You know, you two would make a wicked power couple."
"Shut up!" the blond Earth Guardian snapped, holding the flap open for the shorter brunet Water Guardian. They were both in their swim attire with the Water one wet.
The brunet was still mid-laughter, turning her attention to Phobos, who was standing before them, hand still bleeding. Elyon's bindings had fully reclaimed him now as he waited for whatever the two wanted.
"Hey there…" her smile vanished, seeing blood flow from his hand and seep down his white robe. "Holy shit! What that hell happened to you?" She rushed over, trying to grab his hand, but he moved back.
"Do not touch me," he said, coldly, distrustful of their intentions.
"You're bleeding!" she countered, blue eyes wide as she looked around, spotting the shattered mirror. "Shit, you cut yourself bad. We need to stop the bleeding."
"Leave me be," he hissed as she advanced.
He could bind the wound himself. He didn't need her help.
The Earth Guardian stepped forward. "I'll just heal him so we can leave," she said, eyes glowing.
A vine shot from the ground, ripping through the carpet, grabbing his arm and holding his hand out.
Rage filled him.
Was his body not his own anymore? Just a doll to be flung around?
"Release me," he yelled, face twisted as he struggled against the plant.
The Earth Guardian rolled her eyes as she scoffed. "This will only take a second. Otherwise Elyon has to come deal with you, and she needs a break from your shit."
"Cornelia!" the Water one yelled, pushing her back, away from him. "Have you lost your mind?"
Earth glared as she answered, "What? He's being a baby and I'm sorry if I don't have time for it. But he's bleeding a lot."
The brunet swung her arm at him, using the water on her body to slice through the roots. He shook them off and retreated to the far end of the tent.
"Irma, what the hell-"
"Get out!" Water yelled, pointing to the tent flap.
"What?" Earth asked, dumbfounded.
"You are making shit worse! Messing up everything!"
"What are you talking about?"
Water pointed to the flap again and said, voice calmer, more dangerous, "Get out before I make you get out."
The Earth Guardian turned red, glancing at Phobos before leaving in a huff.
Once gone, the Water Guardian let out a long sigh. "She just pisses me off sometimes."
She turned to him, locking eyes, before turning to sit on his trunk.
"Sorry about her," she said, crossing her legs. "She's just so use to walking over everybody. Except for me, of course," she ended with a wink.
Phobos scowled at her, wanting her gone.
"I can't heal like her, but I can stop the bleeding, let it clot, so we can wrap it," she explained. "I'm not going to force you. I just want you to know your options. I know some blood loss isn't going to kill you, but it might worry people, seeing you like this."
Phobos snorted, "Pray tell, my sister?"
"Yes," she said. Then she pointed to his crown, where the circlet rested. "But I was thinking about a certain new friend you've made."
He froze, not expecting this turn.
"If you go out there oozing blood, she's going to freak."
"Why would that matter to me," he challenged, not liking the implication.
She shrugged. "I don't know. Why keep her company? Why listen to her bitch about her breakup, which is all she mopes about now? Why accept her gift? 'Why' is a very open-ended question. Maybe you're lonely? Trapped here, bound by Elyon's magic. Maybe you're bored? Nothing to do but read and read. Or maybe you can see that she's a good person, and that… means something? I don't think you can care like us mere mortals," she joked, rising to her feet, slowly walking towards him. "Hell, we'll be long dead before you see a gray hair."
She was inching closer as she flashed a smile. "But I think you can care, in your own way."
She reached out and took his bleeding hand. He didn't pull away, and she lifted it up, clear water encasing it. The throbbing of his hand lessened as the cool water seeped into his skin and veins.
She pulled away, releasing him, and smiled. "See, no more blood fountain."
The wound had dried blood clotting it. It wasn't closed, but it was clean and now easy to bandage.
"And I'm Irma Lair, by the way. Pretty sure we never had a formal introduction before, Prince Phobos," she said, folding her arms and still smiling.
He nodded, not sure what else she wanted.
"I would offer to bandage it, but I'm gonna leave on a high note, before you start yelling again. See ya!" she said as she turned. She left with a wave of her arm without looking back.
The sun had fully set, so there was nothing to see off the black coast other than the glowing moon and weak sprinkle of some stars. But he still stared, sitting on a cropping of rocks, out at nothing. He had discarded the ruined robe, using strips of it to bandage himself. He had left the mess for his staff to clean and returned to this spot.
As two guardians were still at odds with each other, openly fighting with his name often overheard. While always happy to be the source of discontent, he didn't want to be around when the Keeper arrived to stop their bickering. Or add to it, depending on her mood.
But he knew it was a matter of time before she sought him out. It was like clockwork at this point.
She showed up, wearing her green dress, feet still bare.
Phobos had untied his hair, letting it splay around him, shining like spun silk from the moon against the black rocks. He had a leg up, leaning on his knee as he turned the black circlet, watching it catch the moonlight. A strange feeling in his chest as he look at it. The memory of the Keeper placing it on his head vivid alongside the image of his blood seeping into it.
Why did it matter where this came from? Only that he was a step closer to freedom.
She moved closer, eyes drawn to the black onyx. He could hear music playing along the beach, drifting around them in the warm night air.
"I am afraid I will be dull company tonight," he said, voice low, gaze now back on the dark ocean.
"I won't stay long," she assured. "I just wanted to bring you some ice-cream before the fireworks. No day at the beach is complete without it."
He looked at her, surprised, and saw she was carrying two items.
"You are free to do as you please," he pointed out, voice flat, not wanting to send her away, but also wanting solitude.
She walked over and sat next to him, handing him one. He hesitated, but took it. For a long moment, he stared at it before her eyes grew wide.
"Have you ever had ice-cream?"
He scoffed, glaring at her question. "Of course. Just not like this."
"Oh," she said, mouth dropping open in shocked amusement. "It's edible, the cone," she explained. "No need for spoons, just lick and go."
He sighed, feeling her eyes on him, not liking that intent look. He had lost a good deal of blood and his mood was low from it.
"Are you okay?" she asked, as he only stared at the dripping ice-cream, some of it staining his makeshift bandage. "Irma told me what happened. I'm… sorry Cornelia was so pushy. She means well."
He scoffed. "I must disagree there. If someone forced you to submit, no matter their intent, would you be pleased?"
She didn't answer, just licked her food, eyes downcast.
"You let Irma help you," she gently pointed out. "So that's good, right?"
Phobos looked away at the moon, still wondering why he let her help him when it didn't matter in the long run. "She… asked."
She hummed, sliding closer, gently brushing his hair aside. "Like she should. Like all of us should. You have a voice, in all of this too."
Ah, by the stars, she really believed that.
Such a naïve, pure heart.
No wonder the nymph chose her. Her goodness was incorruptible.
Such a beautiful fool.
He had used her after accusing her of trying to use him.
Used the gift she placed on his head.
Used the moment of freedom she gave him to embrace her.
In his freedom, they would all ridicule her.
Tell her she was nothing but a pawn to him.
And, before, they would have been right. Yet, now…
Now he didn't know.
He would have his freedom but leave her behind. Or stay shackled and be tortured by her presence. It would probably take a while for Achilles to grow strong enough to remove Elyon's bonds.
Maybe the entire summer.
Why was that such a wishful thought?
"You dropped a little," she said, soothing voice breaking his musings.
A large chunk had slid down the cone, almost making it to the bandage. She reached out and scooped it up on a delicate finger.
Huh. Interesting.
He forced himself to focus on the ice-cream, as he had always taken food from her with no issue, even if his hands touched hers. His bonds didn't stop him as he leaned forward, his tongue reaching out, and collected the ice-cream, ghosting her flesh.
Her mood shifted as she swallowed, unable to look away as he clean her fingers, breathing increasing, her legs clenching.
An explosion in the sky made her jump away on her feet, looking around in panic.
The fireworks had started.
"I'm sorry!" the Keeper blurted out, looking at him staring, his eyes dangerously dark as he yearned for another taste of her. She swallowed again. "I didn't realize it was so late! I have to go meet the girls. Ah, enjoy your ice cream," she said, lingering, eyes still locked with his.
Finally, she ran away.
Tomorrow was the last day of the beach outing. Achilles' first night with full awareness started uneventful. The frog stayed quiet, sitting on the window ledge, staring at the moon, glowing a soft blue. Eventually it hopped away, spending its last night at its home under the moon. Phobos left it alone to contemplate its existence and went to bed with the window open.
Or, at least tried too, as his guards burst into his room, clearly drunk, with a wench hanging on each.
"There," the half-breed slurred, annoyed. "You've seen it. Now lets have fun."
The woman hanging on him, an escanor, laughed trying to push her way into his room.
Phobos narrowed his eyes, wary of what was taking place.
The guard pulled her back, warning, "Can't fuck with it too much. It's Lady Wilhelmina's toy now," he slurred, saying her name with a trace of respect. "She visits it multiple times a day."
The other guard slammed a hand on the wall, face hard to make out from the light at his back. "Can we fucking go?"
The girl in his grip laughed, and he recognized the voice as she spoke. It was the maid from this morning, the one who brushed against him. "Come on, let's invite him for some fun. I just have to know what so great that she keeps coming back for more."
While the other woman just gave a non-committal laugh, the second guard, the Galhot, slammed another hand to the wall, this time with a fist, making a hole.
"Disgusting," he growled, leaving his companion and storming over to him.
Damn, most late night visitors came with swords that they sunk into his flesh while he slept. This was an unpredictable danger.
"He made us slaves for years, and now people drool over him?" he slurred, reaching him and yanking him up by his hair.
Elyon's bonds were choking him, numbing his words, stopping his movement. His sister was such a fool. He could never walk among these savages. They needed be collared, not him. They needed a powerful master, and his sister was not it.
How many guards has she fired? How many maids and butlers? All because their want to harm him was stronger than their respect for her? They just learned to hide it better now. And as they bound him to not speak of his treatment, something meant to stop gossip, it only insured he suffered silently. Because as long as Elyon didn't notice and didn't directly ask him, she didn't know. And what was the chance Phobos would even bother trying to tell her?
He was already humiliated. He would not crawl to his sister for protection. Every drop of blood he lost was a sign of her failure as a ruler. And he knew it cut her deep, knowing he rather bleed out in his sleep than seek help from her.
Phobos just expected fist or sword to his gut, as they roughly pulled him to his feet, neck painfully snapping back from the force.
"Let's make pretty boy less pretty," he slurred, the smell of mead thick on his breath. There was an audible sound of a sword being unsheathed, and they brought it to his neck. Steel cold.
Of all the things he expected, he didn't expect the sudden weightlessness of his body as he stumbled back. The guard's face was visible in the moonlight now, smirking, his hand still holding a long braid.
Phobos stumbled back, hand landing behind him on something cold. He felt a surge of magic from it.
"No!" The maid whined. "Not his hair! Bullocks! You are too cruel!"
The half-breed was sobering quickly as he rushed to his fellow guard. "Shit! You fucking idiot! We are fired after this!"
"I don't give a fucking rat's ass anymore! I'm sick of this pompous asshole! The queen is weak for not striking him down."
"Fucking hell, at least rough him up, make it look like another failed kill. Your stupid frog plan and now this? Fucking moron."
"Can we go?" the first woman said, looking bored with the events. "This isn't what I planned on doing tonight."
"Shut your mouth and wait a damn minute," he snapped at his wench. She huffed and stormed away. The second girl ran after her.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" the half-breed yelled, turning and punching Phobos in the gut before pacing the room. "You fucked up my lay."
"I believe," Phobos bit out, quelling the rage in him. "Your charming personality handled that."
That earned him another hit to the gut.
"Such devoted guards," he gasped, ribs breaking. They weren't holding back tonight.
The Galhot waved his cut hair at him. "Tell me, what does the High Witch fancy about you? What else can I cut off?" he barked, sliding the tip of the sword down his chest, drawing blood, eyes crazed.
There was a flash of red as a ball of light hurled past him and hit the Galhot on his face. He yelled in shock, reaching out to grab the light, only to freeze. His companion, mostly from reflexes and not knowing what he was reaching for, grabbed the orb, only to freeze as well.
They had no access to external magic, so the frog turned white, draining their life-force. They collapsed, the half-breed falling away into a heap, unconscious, but alive. The Galhot gurgled, breath slowing, and finally stopping after a few minutes.
Phobos couldn't order it to finish the other, but Achilles did so of his own free will. Hooping over and draining the rest of his life-force.
The light faded, and it turned to Phobos and asked, "Safe, now?"
Phobos laughed, proud of the creature. "Yes, Achilles. Well done, little one."
The frog croaked, jumping on to Phobos' chest.
"Hurt?" he asked as Phobos flinched.
"I'm fine," he said, scooping the frog up. "But I'm afraid tomorrow shall be tricky. Do not speak unless I command it. Stay hidden best you can. Defend yourself as needed. I have plans for you. "
Many plans, in fact, seeing how fast the toxin worked on the magical-less.
As Phobos was compelled to stay in his room at night, he just kicked at the bodies, not wanting to touch them. He left his hair in the corpse's grip, not ready to deal with that at the moment. The wound on his chest was shallow and stopped bleeding fairly quick. It would heal fast and, as infection wasn't a concerned, he just left it.
In the morning, there was noticeable blood on his bed, but the wound was fully clotted. He dressed in his tunic and pants, tucking the circlet away in his trunk. If Elyon didn't see it, she wouldn't know to question him.
Everything depended on Elyon not asking the right questions.
Achilles hid in his tunic. He debated sending the frog away but, to his surprise, the frog refused. Wanting to stay with him. His bond with the frog was still new, and the frog still had free will. Sending away it just meant it could get into trouble without him.
Exiting his room, he was met with Raythor, Vathek, and Tynar. They must have had the other rooms. They stopped talking when he emerged.
"Ah, my trusted council, so good to see you," Phobos said, voice merry and light as his mouth curled into a smirk.
Raythor, always the most vocal, as his position with the new kingdom was high as captain of the royal guard, responded with a sneer, "Where are your guards? Have those fools wandered off again? They are on their last warning."
"Ah, they have indeed left, in a certain fashion," he answered, being vague as possible.
Vathek glared. Not one able to keep up with a game of wit. "No one needs your riddles. Just spit it out before we ship you back to Meridian with the luggage."
Phobos gave a light-hearted laugh. "I do not understand this hostility! Are we not on holiday?"
"We are here to make sure you remember your place, Phobos," Raythor said evenly, moving to stand beside Vathek.
As Tynar had been so quiet, it surprised them all as the Lurdon simplistically asked, "What is that smell?" He sniffed, his almost animal like brain understanding the primal smell.
Tynar's eyes widened as he pushed past Phobos and into his room. There was a startled gasp as he stormed out, giving Phobos space as fear overtook him. "How? I thought the queen forbid you from killing?"
Alarmed, the other two rushed to the room, both emerging with swords drawn.
"Phobos!" Vathek roared, advancing with his sword raised.
Raythor advanced as well, but to stop the Galhot. "Wait!" Raythor ordered, struggling with the larger man. He let Raythor grab his sword so he could rush forward and grab Phobos. Slamming him to the wall. His body protested from the ongoing rough treatment, but pain was an old friend at this point in his life.
For the first time he noticed the prince's messy cut locks, confusion on his face, only to look startled as he glanced down.
Phobos looked down as well and saw the little frog had crawled out his tunic to perch on his shoulder, dark eyes staring at the one that had advanced on him. Vathek scrunched his face up, looking anxiously at Phobos. He went to grab it and it glowed a shade of red. Elyon's magic flared in him, urging him to warn him, but Phobos stayed silent, frozen in his disobedience. Raythor, one of his magical jailers, sensed the bonds activate from such close proximity and grabbed Vathek, stopping him.
"What is that?" Raythor demanded, eyeing the glowing frog. "How did you kill the guards?"
Phobos frowned. That had been so wonderfully close. What a shame.
"'Frog' is the answer to both," Phobos answered, feeling a burn on his shoulders as the frog started sucking magic in its distress. Ready for a fight. Brave little creature. Raythor was used to magic. He wouldn't fall to it.
"Explain," Raythor snapped, annoyed at the magical rules.
"A moon opal frog did what it does best."
All three backed away to the other side of the room.
"Where did you get that?" Raythor demanded, readying his sword again.
Phobos turned his shoulder away, blocking the frog from view. He needed to be careful with his words.
"My devoted guards left it in my room in another feeble attempt to kill me. As you see, they fell pray to their own plans, and it now prefers my wonderful company."
Knowing his words were true, Raythor swore, furious at another play against Elyon right under their nose.
"And your hair?"
Phobos frowned, not able to hide his contempt. "A parting fashion statement from them, before they passed."
"I see," he said, and Phobos knew he did. There was a reason Raythor always held such a high ranking, no matter who ruled.
"Tynar, go get Elyon. Tell her its urgent but do not let anyone overhear. Vathek, you and Julian will take over as his guards until we return to the castle," Raythor ordered. Both men nodded and left for their task.
"Tell me," Phobos said, stalking around his former personal guard. "Why are you so upset, Raythor? Can't be that those fools are dead to their own plan? Are you mad someone once again tried to kill me, against the explicit orders of your queen, or that they failed once again?"
Raythor still held his sword out, eyes burning. "Can't a man be upset at both?"
Phobos smiled, seeing a crack. Maybe he could salvage things. "You have her so fooled," he said, voice even. "All of them. They think you didn't enjoy the bloodshed."
Raythor narrowed his eyes, ready to strike if the frog moved. "I can enjoy peace as well," he countered, wary of the conversation.
Phobos snorted. "Under Elyon you hold a sword to a frog, Raythor! With me you held it against armies." He smiled, lips thin, eyes frozen. "And won."
"You also threw me down the Abyss of Shadows," he argued, sword still up, eyes on fire.
Phobos snorted again, not believing that was why Raythor betrayed him. "Why is that being held against me? Wasn't the key planted on you by the Keeper herself?" he pointed out. He had learned that bit from Vathek one day, when the man was gloating about outsmarting the prince.
Raythor looked alarmed. "How do you know that?"
"I have found out a great deal of things during my imprisonment," he pointed out. "So why is her underhanded treachery forgiven but my punishment, which you suggested when you knew it was Vathek, so sinful? If you hate me, surely you must hate her? Even when you formed your Knights of Vengeance with Nerissa as your mistress, you still didn't hold her accountable. Or… did you not know?" Phobos said, understanding the look of shock on his former knight's face.
Phobos laughed, pushing his short hair back as he smiled widely.
A little voice in the back of his head regretted dragging her into his plan again, but he seized the chance to chip away at the man before him.
"They never told you! Not Vathek or the Keeper? You didn't know she made you pay for Vathek's sins?" Phobos clicked his tongue. "Poor, poor, Raythor, always the tool. I never heard of someone climbing free of the Abyss. Is it true? It's a pit of dark magic? Full of death and creatures that feed on it?"
Raythor was pale, and Phobos was pleased to see a shake of his sword.
"Shut your mouth and stay still!" Raythor finally snapped. "Not another vile word from you."
Phobos complied, mouth twisting into a thin smile. Raythor was such a simple man with simple values. Anytime they challenged those values, he crumbled.
Elyon entered, followed by Caleb, who was expected, and, not expected, the Keeper, who rushed past the other two, spotted the frog, and excitedly dove for it.
