Forbidden Forest by Tenaya Jayne

  ****

  Kitch was relieved when Forest and Syrus were out of his patrolling area and no longer his concern. He was so used to coming across nothing and no one that the event of meeting such a loony vampire was enough excitement to last him for a long time. But as the sun brought the day, Kitch received an even greater shock.

  He was just getting ready to head home when an entire platoon of vampires tromped into his jurisdiction. His mind raced through all the reasons he could think of why they would be there. Kitch wisely decided to keep still and invisible and let them pass. They moved silently and in perfect formation. Kitch recognized the seal of the Onyx castle on their armor and realized that he had been suckered by the emotional vampire he’d let go. The Vampire and the Halfling were important enough to be pursued by royal troops. He’d screwed up big time. Unless it was a massive coincidence—he doubted that. In the interest of job preservation, Kitch decided that he would report about the vampire and the Halfling and leave out the troops on their heels.

  When Kitch entered Kyhael, he went directly to the office to report in. He cringed as he entered because Susa sat at the front desk. It wasn’t that Susa was overly bad tempered, but she gave Kitch the creeps. She stayed indoors too much, and her skin was a rather unusual and sickly shade of yellow. Her eyes were overly large and red, and she never blinked. But the thing that bothered Kitch the most about her was that she ground her teeth while she filled out reports. The sound always made him envision her gnawing on his bones.

  When he entered, she looked up at him with her unblinking eyes and gave him no expression whatsoever, as though she was nothing more than a lifelike automation. “Reporting in from duty?” she asked in monotone.

  “Yes.”

  She scribbled his name and information quickly with her stylus. “Report?”

  “Ah, well uneventful from dusk till the third hour of morning when I came across a pair of travelers.”

  “Race?”

  “The race of the travelers?” he asked stupidly.

  “No, footrace. Want to have one later?”

  “Huh?”

  She sighed. “Racial background of the travelers?”

  “Oh, well, one of them was a vampire and the other was a Halfling.”

  She stopped her scribbling and looked up at him. He shuffled his feet and looked at anything but her.

  “Why didn’t you bring them to the city in custody?” she demanded.

  “They didn’t seem very important. He was a servant; they were just running away from family members that wouldn’t accept them as life mates.”

  “I see. What was the Halfling?” she asked.

  “Uhh… I think if I remember correctly, she was half shifter and half…elf…yeah that was it.”

  For the first time that he’d ever witnessed, Susa blinked. She stood up abruptly and snatched the paper she’d been writing on. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move! You hear me? Don’t move!”

  “All right. All right.”

  Kitch waited, a cold dread sweeping over him like a fever. Susa wasn’t gone long. When she came back, she had Prefect Camber on her heel. Kitch swallowed loudly, swearing elegantly in his head. Camber was a high profile gofer, the Rune-dy’s go-to-guy. He smiled at Kitch in his official I’m trying to put you at ease smile. Kitch wasn’t comforted.

  Camber walked over and placed his hand on Kitch’s shoulder as though they were good friends. “Kitch, so good to see you! How’s everything at home?”

  Kitch found it hard to un-stick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Uhh. Fine. Just fine.”

  Camber slapped him companionably on the arm. “Good. Good man. So, I’m going to need you to come with me. Nothing to worry about, I assure you, just routine.”

  Routine, my ass, Kitch thought. He had no option but to do as Camber bid. He followed him past Susa’s desk and through a long hallway with many open doorways leading off to offices dedicated to the menial jobs and workers. He had interviewed in one of those rooms, but he had never been deeper than this level. Camber led him through a narrow passage that began to snake downward. The Belliss stone walls and floor gave off enough light to make the passage feel warm and safe, an incongruity, because Kitch knew that just being in this tunnel was the opposite of warm and safe. He began to feel dizzy as the tunnel continued to spiral downwards. They must be very deep under the city, but the light was getting brighter. Yet again, the light did not comfort him. They were drawing close to their destination. Hair standing on end, cold sweats, and dangerously close to losing the contents of his stomach, he followed until the passage birthed him into the antechamber of the Rune-dy’s council room.

  Camber turned and gave him an intense look. “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.”

  Kitch nodded, unable to unclench his teeth.

  The wall in front of them curved out like a huge bowl. A small circle of light shone through the stone, and Camber placed his palm directly over it. The circle began to grow, quickly becoming larger than Camber. Kitch’s mouth fell open as Camber walked right through the stone in the beam of light. He hoped whomever he had to talk to would come out and that he wouldn’t have to walk through the stone. The light shrank back to its original.

  Camber had said he would be right back, but it seemed to take him ages. Kitch worked to keep his breathing steady. He hadn’t done anything wrong. No one had told him to apprehend any Halflings he might come across. The failure lay with someone else. He was ignorant. The Rune-dy couldn’t punish him for ignorance. Why did they care about Halflings anyway? Did they want to begin experimenting on them? Kitch shivered as he imagined what the Rune-dy might do in such an experiment.

  “Kitch!” Camber had returned, his voice pulling Kitch from his reverie. “You can go in now. For your own sake, I recommend you answer his questions succinctly and say nothing else. Don’t babble or elaborate and don’t even contemplate lying. Stand at an appropriate distance and don’t fidget. And for goodness sake, close your mouth.”

  Camber placed his hand on the light again and stepped back as it began to grow. Kitch made no move to go through once the light was large enough. Camber got behind him and began pushing.

  “Wait! Who am I seeing?”

  Camber pushed harder and on a grunt said, “Rahaxeris,” as Kitch was forced through.

  The domed chamber was awash with warm golden light. Circular skylights dropped pools of sunlight on the floor. Kitch stood directly underneath one and looked up into it. They were so far under the city that the sunlight had to travel down a long straight tunnel to reach them. If he squinted, he could see the sky at the end. He was terrified, but the light of the Belliss stone coupled with the sunlight made him feel peaceful, as if it held him in a loving embrace.

  Seven stone chairs curved around the wall in front of Kitch. All were empty, except one. Rahaxeris sat in the tallest chair in the center of the others. Kitch froze like a small animal in the hypnotic gaze of a snake. Rahaxeris looked as though he too was carved of Belliss stone. His skin was the same alabaster color as everything in the room. His eyes were a golden hue, and his blonde hair hung straight down behind his shoulders and looked soft, a stark contrast to the sharpness of his face. Of all the races of Regia, Elves had the most angular features, but none more than Rahaxeris. Everything about him—his face, his hands, his eyes, his voice—were all deadly sharp, as though he had been born for the singular purpose of inflicting pain.

  “So…” Rahaxeris’ voice was quiet, but Kitch still winced. “Tell me about the travelers you encountered last night.”

  Kitch tried to clear his throat, but it felt like a jagged rock was wedged in his windpipe. “Uhh. Yes sir.” Be succinct. “Sometime around the third hour I encountered an unusual scent: Vampire, Elf, and Shape Shifter. I was invisible, but the vampire came charging right at me as though he could see me, brandishing two short swords, and spitting threats at me.”

  Rahaxeris’ remained expressionless. “Did he look like a master of the Bl
ood Kata?”

  “No. He was dressed strangely. Clothes like I have never seen, and his hair was so short, I took him for a servant.”

  Rahaxeris sneered, and Kitch wanted to run away as fast as he could. “A servant who can sense the location of an invisible elf in the dark? Not very observant, are you?”

  Kitch looked at his feet. “No sir.”

  “Tell me the rest.”

  “I asked him his business. He said that he and his companion were running away from their families to start over because they were destined life mates and would never be accepted. I told him I could smell two others but he told me I smelled a Halfling.”

  Rahaxeris didn’t move, but Kitch could tell he had come to the information that interested him most by the glint in his eyes.

  “Are you sure of what you smelled?”

  “Yes, sir. Elf and Shifter, I have no doubt.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Uhh…well I didn’t get a good look. I wanted to question her as well, but the vampire made a fuss about it, said I was just wanting to ogle the freak, or something like that.”

  “Did you believe his story?”

  “I did watch them from a distance. They were very… amorous.”

  Rahaxeris sneered again. “Voyeur?”

  “No! No sir. Not at all!” Kitch spluttered.

  “Is that all? It was just the two of them?”

  Camber had warned him not to lie, but what would happen if he told the truth? He could feel that his life hinged on the decision he was about to make. Truth or lie? Or was it too late and he was damned regardless?

  “Yes, sir, it was just the two. I encountered no one else last night.”

  “Are you quite sure?”

  “Ah…yes.” Kitch’s voice was weak.

  Rahaxeris stood up. He moved forward with a slow precision. Kitch had the urge to run as he approached him.

  “Don’t look so nervous, my boy. You’re not in trouble.” Rahaxeris gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

  Kitch exhaled so loudly his breath came out in a whoosh.

  “How long have you been working for us?” Rahaxeris asked.

  “Oh, umm, under a year, sir.”

  “Keep up the good work, and you’ll have a bright future. I can tell. You have a curious nature—I value that. I bet you’re just busting with questions, aren’t you?”

  Kitch smiled easily, thinking now that he’d been silly to worry he would be punished. Rahaxeris was taking a liking to him. He would have major bragging rights with his friends that night. Kitch envisioned himself sitting in one of those stone chairs before long. He was making friends in high places.

  “Oh, yes sir! I have lots of questions.”

  “I bet one of your many questions is why I care about a random vampire and a Halfling? Am I right?”

  “Yes, sir. I’d very much like to know that.”

  “Well…” Rahaxeris lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Most definitely, sir,” Kitch said enthusiastically.

  Rahaxeris leaned closer to Kitch and whispered. “The Halfling is my daughter.”

  Kitch’s eyes widened in terror as Rahaxeris grabbed him around the throat. His long, razor-sharp finger nails stabbed deep into Kitch’s neck, and he collapsed to the floor choking on his own blood.

  Camber stood at attention as Rahaxeris came through the light door into the antechamber. “Ah, Camber, clean up the mess in there.” Rahaxeris pointed to the small light beam on the wall.

  “Yes, sir. Will I need to send a fabricated story of how he died to his family as well?”

  “Yes. A simple story, Camber, for a simple man.”

  Camber nodded. “I did warn him against lying, Sir.”

  Rahaxeris clicked his tongue in response.

  “Was his information useful? Shall we pursue the travelers he let go?”

  Rahaxeris smoothed his hair and straightened his robe. “No. There were no travelers. He lied.”

  Chapter Fourteen