Morrigan's Cross (Circle Trilogy 1)
A single look from Lilith silenced her. “I haven’t given you leave to speak. My fondness for you is all there is between you and the pit. And my affections only go so far.”
Lora bowed her head in deference and followed Lilith into the adjoining chamber. “You lost three of my good men. What can you say to that?”
“I have no excuse.”
With a nod, Lilith roamed the chamber, idly picking a ruby necklace from the top of a chest. The single thing she missed of life was mirrors. She longed, even after two millennia, to see herself reflected. To be wooed by her own beauty. She had hired—and fed on—countless sorcerers, witches and magicians over the centuries to make it so.
It was her greatest failure.
“You’re wise not to offer one. I’m a patient woman, Lora. I’ve waited more than a thousand years for what’s coming. But I won’t be insulted. I dislike having these people pick and pluck us off like flies.”
She threw herself into a chair, tapped her long red nails on its arms. “Speak, then. Tell me about this new one. This Hunter.”
“As the seers prophesied, my lady. The warrior of old blood. One of the hunters who has plagued our kind for centuries.”
“And you know this because?”
“She was too fast to be a mere human. Too strong. She knew what they were before they moved on her that night, and she was ready. She completes their number. The first stage is set.”
“My scholars said the black man was their warrior.”
“They were wrong.”
“Then what good are they?” Lilith heaved the necklace she still toyed with across the room. “How can I rule when I’m surrounded by incompetence? I want what’s due me. I want blood and death and beautiful chaos. Is it too much to ask that those who serve me be accurate on the details?”
For nearly four hundred years Lora had been by Lilith’s side. Friend, lover, servant. No one, she was sure, knew the queen better. She poured a glass of wine, carried it to the chair.
“Lilith.” She said it gently, offering both it and a kiss. “We’ve lost nothing important.”
“Face.”
“No, not even that. They only believe what they’ve done in these past weeks matters. It’s good they do, because it makes them overconfident. And we killed Cian’s boy, didn’t we?”
“We did.” Lilith pouted another moment, then sipped. “There was satisfaction in that.”
“And sending him to them only demonstrated your brilliance, and your strength. Let them take dozens of the meaningless foot soldiers. We cut their heart.”
“You’re a comfort to me, Lora.” Drinking her wine, Lilith stroked Lora’s hand. “And you’re right, of course, you’re right. I’m disappointed, I admit. I so wanted to break their number, to foil the prophecy.”
“But it’s better this way, isn’t it? And it’ll be the sweeter when you take them all.”
“Better, yes, better. And yet…I think we need to make a statement. It would improve my mood, and morale as well. I have an idea. I’ll think it through a bit.” She watched the wine swirl in her glass. “One day, one day soon, this will be the sorcerer’s blood. I’ll drink it from a silver cup, and nibble on sugar plums between sips.
All that he is will be in me, and all that I am will make even the gods tremble.
“Leave me now. I need to plan.”
As Lora rose to go to the door, Lilith tapped on her glass. “Oh, and this irritating business has made me hungry. Bring me someone to eat, will you?”
“Right away.”
“Make sure it’s fresh.” Alone she closed her eyes and began to plot. While she plotted, the screams and squeals from the next chamber battered the cave walls.
Her lips curved. Who could be blue, she thought, with a child’s laughter ringing in the air?
Moira sat cross-legged on Glenna’s bed and watched Glenna work on the magic little machine she called a laptop. Moira was desperate to get her hands on it. There were worlds of knowledge inside, and so far she’d only been allowed a few peeks.
She’d been promised a lesson, but just at the moment, Glenna seemed so absorbed—and they only had an hour free.