“I'm close to discovering the traitor,” Tavi said as he settled into a cushion across from Balthazar. He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it onto his desk.
“The parchment,” Tavi said tapping at the piece of paper, “it’s made from a very particular plant, used solely for the cooking scrolls in the palace kitchens. The material is resistant to heat and moisture, so it holds up better in the kitchens.”
“There's a large number of people who have access to the kitchens,” Balthazar said. He picked up the piece of paper. It was the one that he had found the night his father was assassinated. All trace of the Asuri assassin's scent was now gone from the paper.
“I've already interviewed each and every one,” Tavi replied, “and there is only a handful that have access to that paper. It's expensive, so the regular staff can't use it. Only the head chefs can use it to copy down their most important recipes.”
“So it was one of the chefs?” Balthazar asked. He tossed the paper back onto the desk.
“Or the head of the kitchen staff,” Tavi said. “Either way, it narrows down our traitor to only a few people.”
“It's really good. We'll have the traitor soon,” Balthazar said. He had a faraway look in his blue gray eyes that made Tavi uncomfortable.
“You're disappointed,” Tavi said, his face falling. He thought this would be wonderful news, but Balthazar wasn't taking it the way he thought he would.
“No, it's not that,” Balthazar said, leaning away from his desk. He rested his chin in his hand and studied his younger half-brother for a moment. “There's another matter I must discuss with you.”
“What is it?” Tavi asked. He sat up straighter. It was so unlike Balthazar to look so worried. Something was clearly bothering him.
“You're a Council Lord now,” Balthazar said. “It's time for you to take a mate.”
“I agree,” Tavi said, the corners of his lips lifting, “I was hoping to speak with you about that. I have someone in mind.”
“As do I,” Balthazar said, knowing they were not thinking of the same demoness. He knew of the rumors about Tavi and Yashmina. Everyone knew about Tavi and Yashmina, especially since their father's passing. They certainly hadn't tried to hide their feelings for each other. He didn’t oppose the union, but Tavi would have to do what he couldn’t.
“I realize it's uncommon,” Tavi said, his eyes shining with false hope, “but our father never consummated his marriage with Yashmina. It's well known that it was only done as a measure of kindness to her mother. With your blessing I don't think any one would care if I mated her.”
“Unfortunately, I can't allow that,” Balthazar said, looking away. He couldn't bear to look at Tavi and see the crestfallen expression on his face.
“But I…” Tavi’s voice became strained, almost desperate. “I know she was technically in father's harem, but they never—“
“I don't oppose the union,” Balthazar said, cutting him off “and I’m sure no one else would. That's not the issue.”
“I don't understand,” Tavi said, unable to hide his despair. He could never go against the Lord Sultan’s wishes, but he felt like his world was crashing around him.
“There is someone else that needs to be mated,” Balthazar said, his words cutting like a knife as understanding hit Tavi, “and it won't be to me. I'm sorry, brother. I really am.”
“Azira,” Tavi said. The name stuck in his throat like a bitter pill. He'd wondered what his brother was thinking when he dismissed them the night before. Arastoo would make a powerful enemy for him. Now he knew that Balthazar had made other plans for the daughters.
“You'll mate both the Delshad daughters,” Balthazar said. His voice was steady but his eyes showed a hint of regret.
Tavi sat silent for a long moment, fighting the constricting pain in his chest. The Delshad sisters were among the most beautiful demonesses in the land. Most of the royal princes would jump at the opportunity to wed just one of them, much less both, but Tavi wanted Yashmina, and only Yashmina.
“Do I have a choice, my lord?” Tavi asked, his jaw clenched as he fought to look his brother in the eyes. Balthazar refused to meet his gaze. It was not so many days before that Balthazar stood in Tavi’s place.
“No,” Balthazar said finally. “I'm afraid not.”
“War is coming, Lord Baal,” Aelek said, his hands resting behind his back as they walked along a moonlit path. It had taken some time, but Baal was finally completely healed. He had started asking questions and Aelek thought it best to show him what he had going on.
“I don't care about any of that. I just want Balthazar and the human,” Baal said. He'd grown increasingly uncomfortable with being here in Maracov. Aelek was an odd creature to say the least, and he didn't like the fact that he could read his thoughts. It made things easier and harder at the same time. There was no way that Baal could betray him, because he would instantly know it, but there also was no need to beat around the bush.
“And you shall have them,” Aelek said, waving his finger at Baal with excitement. “I have an extraordinary ability, as you know. But unfortunately my physical abilities are lacking. I don't have the strength or speed that you have. Without it, being able to read minds doesn't do a whole lot of good.”
“So you've made a deal with these Magi creatures,” Baal said. “And you want me to kill them for you.”
“Not yet,” Aelek said. He gave Baal a little wink. “But soon.”
They came to the door of a windowless stone building. The thick wooden door cracked open as they drew close and Aelek gestured for Baal to pass through. As soon as he stepped into the door a stench smacked him in the face and he stopped dead in his tracks. Baal had seen the horrors of battle and was used to the sight of dead and mutilated bodies, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. Twisted and mangled, most of them screaming out in pain, hundreds, possibly thousands of hideously mutated demons filled the building.
“What is this place?” Baal asked, his lips curling in disgust. Aelek stepped beside him and slapped a hand on his shoulder. Baal had to struggle not to look away from the sight. It was troubling how comfortable Aelek was with the scene. It was obvious he'd been here many times. There was maybe even a little pleasure at what he was seeing.
“This is what we need,” Aelek said, his red eyes shining as he surveyed the room with pride. “This is what the Magi will give me.”
“What happened to them?” Baal asked, his face still frozen in horror as he took in the sight of the mutilated demons. There were demons from many different kingdoms. A few of them were lying in dirtied cots, but the rest of them were sprawled out on the floor. Most of them were bleeding, but Baal couldn't tell where the injuries were or what they could be from. It was a disturbing sight.
“Sacrifices must always be made,” Aelek said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “These are the unfortunate outcomes of experimentation. I keep them around to study what went wrong.”
“Experimentation for what?” Baal asked, turning to Aelek.
“Controlling the beast,” Aelek said, “With the right magic, I can create an unstoppable army.”
“The Magi did this?” Baal asked, looking again at the wreckage of bodies that lay around him. He could just barely pick up the hint of magic in the air underneath all the stench of blood and decay.
“They haven't quite perfected their technique,” Aelek said with a shrug. He was so casual about the whole thing that it unnerved Baal to no end. “But they are close. Once they've helped me to achieve this, then you can kill them and we'll both have what we want.”
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