A/N: Hello all! Thanks again to those of you who are still reading this piece—and especially to those taking the time to comment. It's a pleasure reading your thoughts! I hope you enjoy the upcoming chapter.
All best,
CKat
Chapter 47: I Shall Be Released
The Ancient Pythoness's glossy eyes had been looking straight ahead for almost an hour.
Noelle had been watching her—feeling her.
The empath was always astounded by the number and variety of feelings that would roll through her mistress as she experienced a series of visions, especially when those visions would seem to overtake her—to altogether kidnap her from the present moment. Most often, Pythia would be drained after she "woke" from such a state, which was one of the reasons why her handmaidens were so carefully chosen and trained.
For such a powerful being, the Ancient Pythoness was extremely vulnerable at times—and not just during the daytime.
Noelle was honored that she'd been chosen to be among the group of handmaidens, though she was still quite junior in their ranks. Some of the handmaidens in Pythia's company were well over a thousand years old! The seer had one fundamental rule when it came to the kinds of things she would ask of her handmaidens, though it was a rule that Noelle disagreed with—vehemently.
The rule was simple: they were with her only to defend and to support her. Pythia refused to use them as offensive weapons. She thought that doing so would exploit them or put them into difficult positions—where their loyalty to her versus their loyalty to their own kind or kin might be tested.
In addition, Pythia would let her handmaidens leave her service whenever they wished, and she would reward them generously for their service to her. For her part, Noelle couldn't imagine ever leaving the side of her mistress. She loved Pythia—as a child loves a mother. But—more than that—she felt for her, and her every impulse was to help Pythia to carry her ancient burdens.
"I feel you comforting me, Little One," Pythia said as her eyes cleared a miniscule amount.
"I am," Noelle admitted. "I am sorry. Sometimes I cannot help it. Did you see what you hoped to?" she asked.
"Yes," Pythia whispered. "All that are needed have converged where they are needed. And—tonight—Appius will be no more," she sighed.
"Then, why do you feel such despair, Mistress?" Noelle asked, knowing that Pythia would not be mourning the upcoming death of her loathsome child.
She shook her head a little. "I am sorrowful because it is still unclear to me how many Appius will take with him before he perishes. He will have the opportunity to kill many—more than he already has tonight." She looked toward Noelle but didn't seem to be looking at her. "And I must give him that opportunity, or there is a risk of tremendous fallout from this night."
"Oh," Noelle said softly, feeling her own sadness. She felt as if she knew so many of the people involved in the situation at hand, for her Mistress felt comfortable talking about them with her. Of course, that was probably because Noelle's gift practically coerced sharing when the empath was curious about the visions. The young part-fairy would always try to curb her gift, but she hadn't completely mastered it yet. Thankfully, her Mistress did not mind.
Pythia sighed deeply. "Appius has been the bane of my existence. I hate how my visions compelled me to make him my child. I hate the irony that his not becoming a vampire would have made this world worse. I hate that the universe sometimes requires an evil being to cut through the good. So many innocents have been killed by him; so much death and destruction and dread," she said, her voice taking on an eerie tone as if she were looking back through a millennia-worth of nights—all at the same time. "How much easier it would have been for me to order him to do no harm or to meet the sun on his first morning undead. How much easier it would be now to simply call him to me and kill him myself." She sighed again, but shook her head. "But I cannot do that."
"Why can you not be the one to kill him, Mistress?" Noelle asked boldly. She'd wanted to ask the question many times before, but she hadn't mustered the mettle to do it. It had seemed too invasive.
Pythia's fangs snapped down, causing Noelle to startle a bit. "I would love to end him," she growled. "I would love to be the one!" Her face calmed of its rage almost as quickly as it had clouded with it. "But if I do it—if I am the one to kill him this night—then it will mean that he will finally have done that which has eluded him for a thousand years."
"What is that?" Noelle asked, though the dread in Pythia made her afraid to hear the answer.
She responded forebodingly. "He will have finally broken the spirit of his child—at long last. If I am the one to kill Appius, then Eric the Northman will be no more, for he will be finally dead or too broken by his maker to ever heal mentally. The telepath will be gone too—dead or shattered along with her bonded. All of the good that they could do together—even from the confines of the relatively quiet life they will lead—will be lost. And I will have failed." She gestured around her. "All of this will have failed."
"What can I do?" Noelle practically begged, her gift compelling her to want to help her mentor—her mother.
"You may gather the other handmaidens. It is time for us to see what fate has in store."
Noelle nodded and rose to leave the room, but she paused at the door. "You are wise, Mistress. And I know that you have done everything possible to create a situation that will be best. I have faith in you—and in those you favor."
Pythia smiled at the young one, who was still so innocent—refreshingly so. "Thank you, Little One. Your faith gives me hope. And—tonight—hope is what I cling to."
Bill attempted to curb the nervousness he felt as he walked into the queen's ballroom with his Master.
The last time he'd been in Sophie-Anne's compound, it was to seek her favor. Indeed, he was still the queen's subject—at least, technically. He'd sworn fealty to her. It was just her lack of support of his right to Sookie that he resented her for.
"No—she is not Sookie. She is the telepath. And I am no longer Bill Compton, subject of the Queen of Louisiana. I am William, apprentice to Appius Livius Ocella," he thought to himself, even as he tried to shed his nerves.
After all, it wasn't as if Sophie-Anne would dare punish him! First of all, she was the one in the wrong! Master had been very firm on that opinion! The queen had sent Bill to study and to secure the telepath. And he had done just that! Moreover, he'd claimed her both by the blood and by verbal declaration. A human ought not to have any say in that claiming, according to Master, though Sookie had verbally accepted him. The fact that she'd since suggested that she wanted another was irrelevant. The queen should not have interfered.
Yes—he had nothing to fear from Sophie-Anne, for Master would ensure that his faithful servant was not inconvenienced by the queen's wrong-headed decisions about the telepath.
Sookie Stackhouse was Bill's—by right! But the telepath would be William's—by force, if needed.
However, even as Bill's anxiety over the queen's reaction to him dissipated, his worry shifted to Karin, Eric's pathetic child! Bill had been flabbergasted when Master discovered Karin the Slaughterer's connection to Eric. Frankly, Bill had hoped that Master would torture and kill her!
He had been learning that questioning Master was very wrong. But Bill was still not completely over his weaknesses. He hated not knowing what Master intended for Karin. And, even though he was trying to trust Master fully, a small part of him wondered if Master was deceiving him—as another kind of test.
Could Master be falsely promising the telepath to him as his prize and—ultimately—his child? Did Master truly intend for Karin to kill the telepath in order to gauge Bill's true loyalty to him? Of course, Bill would be loyal! Though getting the telepath back had been his reason for seeking out Master to start with, Bill now recognized that his instruction at the feet of Appius Livius Ocella was so much more valuable than the telepath!
Still—he hoped that Master's plan for Karin was some sort of further torture for Eric—not a test for himself.
Yes—that is what it had to be. Master was using Karin to toy with Eric and would kill the vampiress as soon as she made a move against Sookie.
Of course, because of his superior vampire mind, all of Bill's doubts and concerns crossed through his thoughts in a mere moment, and he bolstered himself for the minutes ahead.
He needed to be alert! He needed to ensure that Alexei stayed safe and secure as Master saw to his business in Sophie-Anne's court—business that Bill wasn't entirely certain of, since the plans for the night had altered due to Andre's failures.
Bill glanced at the sides of the room. As Master had instructed, the progress of their group had not been impeded in any way by those on the queen's security staff—not the vampires or the two-natured. Still, he noted the presence of several guards lining the walls of the ballroom.
Bill gasped as he recognized one of the guards. Master noticed the noise and followed his gaze.
"Ah!" Appius exclaimed with glee as he took in the burly brute who seemed to be overseeing many of the two-natured beings in the ballroom. "A tiger!" he winked at the violet-eyed male.
The cat's back seemed to rise a bit, much to the ancient vampire's amusement. "Down, tiger," he instructed in a patronizing way. "It would be a pity to have to declaw and neuter you when your kind is almost extinct," he taunted.
The tiger—wisely—stayed where he was, though his eyes flashed yellow. Taking in the other so-called guards in the room, Appius could tell that the tiger was not the most agitated. A dark-skinned Were was practically snarling from the other side of the room. Appius inhaled deeply to pick up the particular Were's scent—in the room full of what the ancient considered to be foul-scented creatures.
He grinned. He'd smelled this particular Were before—his scent fresh on the clothing of the human marksman who'd made a fine snack for Alexei. And the human's scent clung to the Were, too—as did the unmistakable scent of cum. Clearly the human and this Were had been lovers—enjoying each other's bodies earlier that day.
Appius chuckled to himself. The Were should be grateful for getting in one last fuck.
Even as the ancient vampire completed his inventory of potential threats in the room—finding none—he turned his attention to the door opposite the one he'd entered.
Looking slightly haggard, Queen Sophie-Anne entered the room on the arm of a relatively young vampire, whom Appius immediately recognized as the Arkansas king, Peter Threadgill. Two beefy vampires, who smelled of the queen, followed them. Other vampires trailed in as well. Appius recognized only one from the Old World.
"Russell Echeverria!" he exclaimed.
"It is Edgington now. I have not used Echeverria since I was in Spain," the King of Mississippi informed.
"Ah—the practice of changing one's name," Appius sneered. "I have never felt the need."
"No—I believe that you have never been one to adapt to the changing world," Russell responded dryly.
"That is because the world should adapt to vampires—do you not agree?" he asked flippantly even as his eyes zeroed in on the queen. "Where is your eldest?" he asked Sophie-Anne with a smirk.
The queen's eyes narrowed. "Andre has been dealt the final death tonight," she responded evenly. "He was working with others behind my back to subvert my wishes."
Appius chuckled and winked at her. "I suppose that is my cue to confess everything!" he stated dramatically. "But I truly meant no harm to you and yours. I simply wanted to collect young William's property and my property here tonight."
"William's property?" Sophie-Anne asked.
"Yes," Appius smiled. "The telepath."
"Sookie Stackhouse does not belong to Bill Compton," Sophie-Anne said firmly.
Appius gestured as if he were swatting a fly. "Of course, she does! After all, William claimed her. He gave her his blood, and he took hers, thus forming a blood tie."
"She denounced any claim that he may have had upon her and has been claimed by another," the queen said somewhat cautiously.
"Oh yes! My eldest child believes that he has a claim on the telepath. But Willian never denounced his own claim to her, and it is not like a human's claim should be recognized."
"The rules have changed with the Great Revelation, Ocella," Russell pointed out.
Appius ignored the king's comment. "And—even if there is a thread of validity in Eric's claim on the telepath," the elder opined, "I will simply order him to hand her over to young William."
"My sheriff's claim to the telepath has been endorsed by me. However, should he give that up, then—as Queen of Louisiana—I will be claiming Sookie Stackhouse. She is a citizen of my realm and is already my asset," the queen emphasized.
Appius ignored her words. "I find myself desirous of my child's company for the next year or so. Your Andre was going to make sure that I was unimpeded in my plans for my Eric." He took a step forward. "Now, it will be up to you, Dear Queen, to ensure hospitality," he conveyed, not bothering to hide the threat in his tone.
"What are your intentions with your child?" Sophie-Anne asked brazenly.
Appius's fangs clicked down, and his voice roared. "You presume to question me about my business with my child! How fucking dare you!? A maker has full dominion over his child!"
The elder vampire put his fangs away and smiled as he took in the way that his sudden burst of anger had disconcerted all of those in the room, except for Alexei, who seemed thirsty for conflict.
"I wanted to do this in a civilized way," Appius feigned a sigh.
"What do you want?" the queen asked, some of the confidence in her tone having faded.
"Just what I have said. I want Eric by my side and the telepath by William's side."
"Master?" Karin asked in a confused tone. Clearly, she neither understood nor liked what she was hearing.
Appius gave her a look. "Silence. You will do as I say," he ordered her with warning in his tone.
Karin seemed to be fighting against his influence a little, but the magic that made her susceptible to Appius held in place. She nodded and lowered her head in obedience.
Appius turned back to Sophie-Anne. "Call for my child and the telepath. Step aside when it comes to them. And show me some goddamned courtesy!"
"Or?" Sophie-Anne asked, her voice slightly shaky.
"Or you will not like what happens to your little state," he warned.
It looked, for a moment, as if she was ready to deny him.
"Do not answer until you have considered your response very carefully," Appius said in a low tone. "The children you have left will die if you deny me. All vampires loyal to you in this state will die. And—you must know—I will eventually get my child and the telepath anyway, no matter what you do. Indeed, I could call Eric to me now."
"Why don't you?" the King of Arkansas asked.
Appius turned his gaze to him and licked his lips. "Because I want to test the hospitality of this state—before I do something rash," he paused dramatically, "such as decimate it."
"Appius, the courts of the United States are not the same as those in parts of Europe and Asia," Russell returned in a calm voice. "You must understand that mainstreaming is the norm here. The American Vampire League will not just stand by if you do anything to risk the harmony that is being forged between humans and vampires in this country. They will unite with many American monarchs and step in to stop you—if you do anything to harm this realm, including harming one of her sheriffs."
Appius laughed heartily. "Please! Your pathetic AVL is nothing to me! None of its representatives or your monarchs is a match for me!"
"You are only one vampire," Peter returned brazenly. "If we all unite against you, then even you would fall!"
Appius's expression became twisted with a mixture of amusement and insanity in that moment. And—in the next—the remains of a vampire were dripping on the floor next to Peter, even as Appius had returned to his original position. The only evidence that he'd moved at all was the blood on his hands.
It was another moment before the stunned vampires in the room could process what had happened. The finally dead vampire on the floor was Jacob, King Peter's personal guard!
The Arkansas King looked ready to attack Appius, but Russell managed to restrain him.
"That one did smell heavily of you, Your Majesty. Your guard?" Appius taunted.
Peter growled. "You bastard!"
"Tsk, tsk. I was merely teaching you a lesson about respect, Your Majesty," Appius said in a patronizing tone.
Peter's growling continued, though the stronger king had no problem holding him in place.
"Your guard was older than you—stronger than you. Correct?" Appius jeered, looking Peter up and down. "Don't do anything foolish. You're too pretty for me to kill without having convinced you to give me a sampling first."
"You're out of your goddamned mind," Peter growled, even as he calmed down enough for Russell to let him go.
Appius sneered. "The concept of mainstreaming is what is insane! To think—our glorious race ingratiating ourselves to humans!" he spit out. "Shameful! If anything, we should have come out in order to conquer them once and for all! To make them our own!"
Alexei made a noise of approval from behind him.
"Now," Appius said, once again addressing Sophie-Anne. "Call Eric and the telepath. Or perish," he gave her choice starkly.
"There is no need for my queen to call me. I am right here," Eric said, walking into the large room.
The smile on Appius's face spread quickly—and sickly.