Ruler [Blood Magic, Book 3]

Chapter 55: Shockwaves

"I'll just let you do the talking," I said, unsure there was any way I could address it that wouldn't turn my face fire-engine red and make me die of embarrassment.

"Okay, then, come and see your throne." He took my hand, surprising me after rejecting my kiss earlier, and guided me to the foot of the riser that now held two grand seats. The piece of furniture he'd stopped us in front of rendered me breathless. I'd never seen anything so exquisite. Letting go of Keel's hand, I walked up the steps and dropped to my knees in front of it. Every part of the chair, with the exception of the seat and an upholstered section that extended the height of my back and head was comprised of carved and painted wood. Now that I was right in front of it, I could see that the colourful, jewel-encrusted woodwork depicted scenes of sorcery and battle. As I crawled around the base of the chair, exploring one tableaux after another, I began to recognize some. Scenes from history when sorcerers had killed record numbers of Nosferatu with magic. I reared up and almost fell off the riser, but Keel was right there to catch me.

"Breathe," he told me, "and look at the top." He put his hand on my neck and encouraged me to take in the expanse of wood that extended upwards past the fabric into three tall peaks. It too held scenes, but these ones I recognized from having experienced them. Keel and I surrounded by angry Nosferatu and a spell, and though the woodworker hadn't rendered a room along with his carving I knew we were standing in the loading bay. Keel taking my blood and shaking the earth during the Induction ritual. And in the centre of it all, an artist's rendition of me giving Keel back his life after the stabbing. Of course, no one had been in the room but us, so the artist had taken liberties, placing my hands on his wounds and my mouth open in some sort of highly animated, ritual chant. The only part it got right was Keel taking my blood, but I found myself overcome with emotion anyway, the exact thing I wasn't supposed to be experiencing in this room. "I'm not sure I understand it," I said, glancing back to the horrifically dark acts that circled chair's legs.

"It was a gift from the Nosferatu in South America. Several of the enclaves there sent their best woodworkers to a workshop in Bogota in order to complete it in time. Symbolically, it's supposed to serve as a balance to my throne and a reminder to all who see it of our communal histories and how through singular actions we can chose to change the future. If I must sit in a chair that celebrates human and sorcerer death, it is only right that yours should in part brag of the deaths of Nosferatu."

I looked at the expanse of luxurious black velvet that comprised the throne's seat and back. "Well, I'm just glad they didn't go with the usual skulls and standard tanned flesh."

"I think it's one thing to carve great defeats in battle and another to work with the skins and bones of your own kind."

Before I had any time to spend with that disturbing image, the throne room doors swung open and Boras and Arthos entered. Keel swivelled me into my seat and took his own. They were far enough apart that I couldn't reach out and grab his hand. That was probably on purpose. Kings and queens had to hold their own in public.

Boras and Arthos approached the throne side by side, their footfalls landing in perfect military precision to create a steady drumbeat of boots. They even stopped at the same moment, but only Arthos fell to his knees. He immediately leaned his head back, exposing his throat. I vaguely remembered this from the texts he'd made me study. It had seemed unimportant at the time, but now I wished I'd paid closer attention. I attempted to dredge what I could of it from my brain. What the hell had they said? Something about when a king was overthrown, those making a new pledge of loyalty could simply bare their throats to their new leader and if he accepted the offering, the oath would be complete. That's what Arthos was doing. That's what a lot of Nosferatu would do today. And I'd have to put my mouth on all of them. I might have been part vampire, but not enough to be comfortable with that, unfortunately my choices numbered exactly zero.