Though summer, a purring fire curled in the Domrae's great fireplace, its dancing light silently flitting over the now night shuttered window panes. Masis always wondered how one could make a fireplace in a tree so it could not and would not burn it all down. In the end he had chalked it up to magic and let the matter rest.
Tea cups rested on tables, armrests, and window sills, much like the lounging individuals, sprawled in different spots about the room. Lord and Lady Domrae had taken up posts near Saret's sleeping form, laid out on a small sofa. Several days had passed since the accident, but they still hovered about her whenever she settled in one place. Danya's head bobbed gently to the rhythm of a dreamer's tuneless lullaby while she sat in a large, overstuffed armchair. Masis stood by the window, staring into the mirror the firelight had created in the glass.
His eyes didn't seem quite his own. He had stared into a soul. Healed a body. Staved off death. His had done something he did not think possible. The steel-blue orbs shone with a new burnish and he didn't know what to make of the change, even if only noticeable to him.
The experiences in the forest did little to settle his mind. Whether he had actually used his newfound abilities to warm the water he did not know. Upon reflection of the day's events, the water had felt warmer. Truthfully, he doubted it greatly. But then again, he would not have thought healing his sister possible. Even the strange woman with her odd probing questions and insinuations seemed more a hallucination than anything of substance or reality.
It all meant nothing, he thought, staring straight into his reflected pupils. Nothing! Just a bad dream. Not real.
He turned from his reflection with a huff of finality.
Lord and Lady Domrae still sat on either end of the chaise lounge, staring down at their miracle child, Saret, soft, contented smiles hanging on their faces. From time to time their eyes would creep up and brush the other with a loving glance. Their hands never moved far from Saret's head or the blanket that lay across her small, sound body.
Stirring, yawning, and eventually cracking her now bleary eyes, Danya rubbed her face as she peered around the room, letting out a disappointed moan for having woken up.
"I do believe that creature of ours needs to be taken to bed," Lord Domrae said.
"Yes, I think so," Lady Domrae replied. "Should I ring for Calla or Humphrey?"
"I think that would be wise."
A knock came at the door before it opened and Humphrey entered stiffly, his body rigid and jerky much like a marionette.
"Ah, Humphrey," Lady Domrae began. "I was about to ring for you. Would you please ask Calla to take Danya to her room? We'll take Saret ourselves."
No twitch of recognition came for the words spoken to the butler. No movement. No quick nod or shift of his eyes. Humphrey stood stalk still except for the occasional defiant shiver as if he were struggling against unseen bonds.
Masis frowned, confused at the behavior of a man he thought of as the very definition of steadfast.
Stepping toward him, Lady Domrae reached out a hand in his direction. "Humphrey? Are you all right? Humphrey?"
She took another tentative step, her hand still outstretched. Her hand mere inches from his frame, his head jerked to look at her, his very breath rebelling in the movement, his eyes tight with exertion.
Lady Domrae jumped back, putting her hand to her chest. "Humphrey, what are you trying to do scare me out of my wits?"
"I'm sorry, my lady." He said, eking out the words. Tears brimmed his eyes, barely constrained. "I'm so sorry."
"There's no reason to apologize so profusely," she said, her husband coming to her side, a look of concern furrowing his face. "Don't worry. No harm done. There's no reason..." She stopped as he kept apologizing. Her brows drew. "Humphrey, what is it? What's wrong?"
"I'm so sorry, my lady, but I couldn't help myself. They bewitched me. They made me do it."
"What?" Lord Domrae asked. "Who made you do what?"
"Let us in, of course," said a strong female voice from the doorway, drawing all eyes.
A female figure dressed in black misted into the room, followed by seven other similarly cloaked individuals, four men and three women. Each took up position about the room, while the apparent leader stood before the fireplace, her black form drinking in the light and reflecting none back.
Though Masis had not mastered Seeing and understanding what he Saw, in his mind the eight individuals appeared wrong. Instead of light caged in human form, darkness swallowed up the space each occupied, a great gaping scar in existence. Nausea roiled through Masis at the unnatural perversion of the individuals standing before him.
Stepping in front of his wife, Lord Domrae's fist clenched and unclenched experimentally. "Who are you and what do you want here?"
"My, isn't he a gallant?" said the tall woman to Lady Domrae, ignoring Lord Domrae completely. "I'd thought such men extinct, but I suppose it is pleasant to be proven wrong from time to time."
Her words like her movements had a liquid quality about them. Each flowed effortlessly into the next without hesitation or doubt. Masis was hard-pressed to remember a woman more striking. Beautiful did not quite capture what she was.
Skin so pale and lustrous it shone like translucent marble. Two luminous eyes of pale peridot green shone out from her stone smooth face, framed strikingly with hair so red it appeared ablaze with the firelight. Her figure, revealed quite blatantly by her tight trousers and top, had Masis' ears burning. But amidst all that exotic mystique something had Masis on edge. Much like the woman he may or may not have met in the forest, the woman occupying his attention at the moment exuded a certain feral energy with every flex and shift of her body, like a mountain lion flexing its shoulders. Every shift of her keen eyes assessed and dissected each member of Masis' family. Assessed and dismissed them, Masis observed as she passed them over without a second thought, as though of little concern.
"What do you want?" Lord Domrae repeated, his stance rigid.
The black clad woman turned toward the fire, exposing her back entirely to Lord Domrae. "Just to enjoy a little bit of your light." She extended her hands toward the fire. "That's not too much to ask for now is it?"
Her chuckle drew laughter from her companions.
The now fully alert Danya ran to her mother, clinging to her arm, her body pressed firmly to her mother's side.
Masis had not moved but his hand went to the closest available object, a candlestick. His hand grasped it, fingers whitening as they squeezed. His breathing picked up as his heart battered against his ribs.
What is going on? he wondered, his hand beginning to ache. Who are these people?
"If it's a warm hearth and lodgings you need for the night, there are several inns in the city that would be more than adequate." Lord Domrae's defensive posture remained firm, not relaxing for an instant.
The woman turned, her green eyes suggestively askance, her svelte body postured as an open invitation. "Can't you offer me something a bit more intimate?"
"No, I cannot," he said without hesitation.
"Humphrey," said Lady Domrae, stepping up beside her husband, clasping his hand. "Would you be so kind to show our guest and her companions out?"
Humphrey stayed in the same spot he had occupied since first entering, trembling.
The woman's smile stayed on her mouth but drained from her eyes. "Well, never let it be said that the Domrae clan doesn't have spirit. Hopefully, a lot of it." Her hand combed her long locks from her face, her long, cream fingers moving with ease.
"Humphrey, please," Lady Domrae repeated, gesturing toward the door.
No one moved. Humphrey continued to shake from apparent exertion on some unseen restraints. The seven sentinels around the room shifted but made no effort to exit. Masis continued gripping the candlestick. The woman's joyless smile fixed itself on her face.
"Madam, you leave me no choice," said Lord Domrae. "I will have you forcibly removed if necessary."
He made to pull the bell to summon other staff, but halted as the woman made the first move.
Her smile abandoned even her mouth, leaving her face blank. Her first step propelled her toward the Domraes, but her second and her third, barely perceptible on the rich, entrail-red rug, brought her right alongside Humphrey. She rested her hand on his shoulder.
"I thought, Humphrey, you told me both Lord and Lady Domrae were individuals that exemplified the virtue of hospitable. Tsk. Tsk. You shouldn't have led me to believe such a falsehood."
She paused.
No one moved. Masis held his breath. He did not know why. The air did not seem to want to enter his lungs as though none remained in the room.
"How am I going to punish you for such an egregious lie?" asked the woman. "Hmmm?"
She moved her hand in front of her face as to inspect her nails. Her eyes ran over them for half a moment before the back of her hand, a streak of pale flesh, collided with the side of Humphrey's head, turning his neck to an unnatural angle as his body catapulted through the air. Crashing into the wall, his limp form collapsed to the floor, twisted and dead.
Lord and Lady Domrae clung to each other as Danya buried her face in her mother's side, her weeping shaking her small frame.
Masis fought to keep his gorge down. He had seen wounds, gaping, some even grievous, while working with the chippers but never a man violently killed before his eyes. Never that.
Saret's eyes sprang open at the horrendous crash and crunch of bones. Her head swiveled until her eyes rested on the butler's broken form. Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened to scream but no sound came, the act too horrendous for even primal expression. Masis finally moved, releasing the candlestick, and snatched her up, pressing her head to his shoulder to shield her from the gruesome scene.
With the woman's exhibition of strength combined with her pale skin, the reality of what the creature and her companions were fully crashed into Masis, rocking through him. He nearly lost his footing as his knees tried to buckle. With Saret clasped to him, he schooled his wayward joints. He had to be strong for her. Even while standing with his entire family surrounded by these monsters—animals penned before the slaughter—he had to stay calm and strong for his sister.
"What a waste," the murderess said, gazing down at the corpse. "But then again, he probably would have tasted a bit bitter, don't you think?"
Her gaze went to her companions who each nodded their heads while their mouths twisted into sardonic smirks.
"Probably sour straight through," said one of her male companions, the youngest by appearance. "You did the world a service ending him the way you did."
The obvious female leader smirked at the comment but with less relish than her own words. Masis thought he detected a flicker of annoyance in her expression but it disappeared faster than he could confirm it.
"Please, don't hurt my family," said Masis' father, clinging to his wife.
Masis had never heard his father beg before. But there it was, a pleading tone replacing the usual air of authority. That change only made Masis want to whimper for it revealed his father's thoughts and the desperation there.
"Take whatever you want, but leave them be," said Lord Domrae, a bit more firmly, his eyes avoiding the lady's, always skirting her stare.
"Lord Domrae," said she-wight, moving to stand before him. "You insult me by refusing to acknowledge who and what I really am. I know you know."
Inching his gaze to match hers, Lord Domrae's jaw clenched. "Night wight."
Hardly above a whisper, those two words snuffed out any hint of hope that had somehow managed to hide in any nook or cranny of the room. Even more weight landed on Masis as he kept hold of his trembling sister.
"Do what you will to me," said Lord Domrae, tone subdued, "but let my family go."
"Night wight," the she-wight said, contemplatively, completely ignoring Lord Domrae's plea. "What a quaint little term. But you should know that I'm not just any night wight. No, no, no. I am the night wight. Their leader. The Queen of the Night as the peasants have so dubbed me. And I have chosen your family to be part of my grand plan. A very high honor, wouldn't you say?"
"Spare my children," Lady Domrae begged, tears already glistening on her cheeks. "Please."
"Spare the children?" the she-wight considered. "No, that won't be possible. I want to send a message and children have always been the best harbingers."
A savage yowl ripped itself from Lord Domrae. He charged, fists raised. With no apparent effort the creature caught him by the throat, lifting him clear of the floor as his feet kicked about seeking some sort of purchase in the air. He appeared nothing more than a doll held like that, hands tearing at his captor's but to no avail. Her fingers did not budge.
Thoughts died in Masis mind as he could not process the scene before him. A cold yet feverish sweat clung to his forehead.
"Thank you for volunteering to be the first," the she-wight said, her tone ironically sweet.
Lady Domrae made to move to her husband but one of the he-wights held her back. His strength forced a scream from her mouth that only intensified as one of the other she-wights tore Danya's small frame from her hands. Masis made to intervene but he too was intercepted, having Saret ripped from his arms. He bellowed as his arms were pulled behind his back, pain spiraling from his shoulders.
Drawing Lord Domrae closer to her face, the green-eyed she-wight drew in a deep breath through her nose, her eyes closed as if savoring the aroma. "A well-aged specimen. You should tickle the palette."
Masis started with a thought. His light. How could he have been so stupid? If he could heal his sister with a thought, why not save his family?
He grasped at his new found power, ready to beat it into submission if need be. Anything to save his family. Anything. Even his own life. It did not respond. He strove harder, desperate as the she-wight's eyes sought out his father's once again. The light remained inert. It did not fight him. It simply would not respond, a limb paralyzed and useless. His whole body trembled as again and again his mind failed to rouse his light.
No! No! No! Again and again he screamed his refusal to yield in his mind. Why now?! Why had he possessed the power to save his sister, but now, when he needed to protect his entire family, it slipped away?
WHY?!
His skull ached with his mental screams. Still his newfound abilities lay useless within him. All he could do was watch, tense and straining, as the monster's gaze found its target.
Locking eyes with Masis' gasping father, the she-wight's pupils expanded into huge black wells, gaping maws ready to feed. Lord Domrae's body shook, every muscle spasming as though he were having a seizure. His hands grasped her wrist desperately as if to hold onto life just a bit longer. A look of agony contorted his face, but not a sound came from him. Just as quickly as it began, the tension in his muscles began to slacken. His arms fell to his sides, spent. Finally, his head slumped toward Masis. His eyes were vacant. No life remained. When completely still the self-proclaimed Queen of the Night tossed Masis' father aside, his body sprawling atop Humphrey's prone husk.
Masis sat there, stunned. His mouth gaped but no sound came.
A silent sob wracked Lady Domrae's frame until a sound ripped itself form her throat, a wail, high and keening. Danya and Saret sobbed, hanging limply in their captor's grasps. Scalding tears welled in Masis eyes as he struggled against the creature that held him tight. His efforts were all in vain. The colossal strength of his captor made his efforts feel like a pebble being thrown against a mountain. His frustration boiled over into a roar, heavy with agony and anger, drawing the attention of the murderess.
"Don't you have quite the fiery spirit? Judging by your age and your apparent passion, your light should have quite a strong punch to it."
"I'm going to kill you!" Masis poured all his fury into the words.
"Temper, temper," the creature said, tsking. "Luckily, for you you'll never have to worry about it getting you into trouble." Grasping him by the neck, she hoisted him out of her companion's hold. She examined him head to foot, as one would inspect a fresh caught fish, before meeting his eyes. "Let's find out just how spirited you really are."
Their gazes locked. A cough interrupted.
"Mistress," the he-wight who had previously spoken said, a whiny quality emerging in his voice. "Do you intend to have all of them?"
"Now is not the time," Masis' captor snapped, turning her head just enough to see the one who had spoken. "There is enough for everyone. Wait. Your. Turn." She stared at him until he stepped back and then returned her attention to Masis. "Your turn."
Peering into those murky depths again, fathomless in their descent, Masis knew nothing could ever begin to fill their starving emptiness. They had no bottom, no end, so no matter what flowed into them—light, love, or power—they could never be sated. Nothing would satisfy.
Masis nearly lost himself in the boundless dark. Then the pain came.
From the emptiness, a tangible hunger sprang, reaching into him with piercing fangs to tear at his light. It tugged until the light released, ripping itself bit by bit into the she-wight.
Such agony Masis had never known. Even if each of his fingernails and toenails along with every single hair on his body were ripped out simultaneously and his skin was then flayed from his body, Masis could not imagine it approaching what he experienced. His very being stretched and tore. No words began to approach the horror of it.
Unlike his father, Masis shrieked. Body spasming, mouth gasping, skin ashen, Masis wailed out, mad for respite. To him his screams went on and on with his pain, lancing and ineffable.
Then as sudden as the pain started, it stopped. Masis fell to his hands and knees as his captor dropped him, barely able to draw a single breath.
The she-wight took a trembling step back. "His light..."
"Are you all right, Mistress?" asked one of lead wight's female companions, stepping forward.
A halting hand raised before her was the she-wight's answer. "I think we'll keep this one alive," she said, regaining her breath.
"And why would we do that, may I ask?" asked the whiny-toned one.
"Because I order it so. His light..." – pausing with the memory of it – "So potent I would say almost lethal for any single wight. Imagine what it will be like if he lives a full life." A quiver shivered through her words.
"Hardly a sufficient reason to deviate so far from the plan we'd so carefully worked out, if I may so," said a calculating female voice.
"You may not. Besides leaving one alive will send a strong message."
"And what would that be?" asked the whiny one.
"Mistress would you allow me," another of the male intruders said, his tones more mature.
"By all means," the leader answered.
"In leaving him alive," the mature one began, "we are leaving a witness. Someone who can stand as a living reminder of our reach and how easily we can destroy whomever we choose."
"I couldn't have said it better," said their leader, smugness unveiled in her words.
"And what of the others?" asked the whiny one.
"I give you first pick of the three."
Masis had hardly paid attention to the exchange. Half-conscious, forehead dripping with sweat, his hearing had faded in and out, but at his tormentor's last declaration his head cleared though his breathing remained labored. He tried to shake himself to greater awareness.
"No..." he said, face still toward the floor.
Bending down to his level, a cordial smile spread along his tormentor's lips. "Yes, I'm afraid so. And what is more, you'll have to watch."
Lifting his head with a single finger, the she-wight positioned Masis' head so that his bleary eyes saw as a he-wight hoisted his mother into the air by the throat. Her struggling slackening as her light ebbed away. Her corpse joined her husband's with as much care and consideration. Another of the males stepped forward next, choosing Danya. Within seconds her small figure joined the mounded dead.
"Captain," the leader said. "I believe you deserve a tender morsel. The last is yours."
The female that had tried to aid the head she-wight before stepped forward. Saret whimpered and back into her guard as far as she could go, her slight form shook as she cried. A small gasp came as she rose from the floor grasped tightly about the neck. Before locking with her captor's, Saret's eyes flickered to Masis.
"Masis, please..."
He feebly reached for his light. It refused his control, bucking off his attempts at bridling it. Mind fading in and out of focus, he did not have the energy to subdue it. The thing that had saved her once now failed her. He had failed her. Failed his family.
Eyes joined. She was gone.
His vision darkened, tunneling deep within him. He collapsed to the floor, rapidly losing consciousness, as the Queen of the Night spoke for the last time, her words almost indistinguishable.
"Shadow him."
*DON'T FORGET TO VOTE*