Marcellus heard Dradyn down the hall, clapping his hands loudly. "Awaken, everyone!" His voice reverberated along the walls. "Our lord has returned!"
Doors opened. He heard feet running to and fro. Lily, one of the servant girls, peeked in the room. She put her hands over her mouth with a gasp and quickly ducked back out.
Marcellus stood and paced like a caged wolf, surprised to be so nervous. When he turned, he caught his reflection in the mirror.
It was not the face he remembered. His hair and beard were disheveled and wet, his face lined with weariness and the endurance of pain. The pale scar on his cheek looked as if he'd had it since childhood. He looked much older. More strands of gray lined at his temples — where had they come from? And his eyes — so cold, so piercing — he almost felt the mirror held not a reflection, but a window where another man looked back in a puzzled manner. He was almost sure if he reached out he would touch not a glass surface, but the face of a stranger.
The rustle of silk disturbed his study.
He turned to see an angel. Evelina's robe was only half on as she ran to him with open arms. He opened his mouth, but words escaped him, leapt back into his throat for fear of a mirage, for fear of waking up from a dream and finding himself back in the dungeons of Bruallia awaiting execution. He could only catch her softness as she leapt in his arms, feel the touch of feathers as her red-gold strands brushed his neck, smell the clean scent of her skin, hear her choking words of love in his ears as he clutched her tightly. The world spun and blurred, but all that mattered was in his arms.
A shrill, girlish voice screamed with joy. "Papa!" Marcellus separated slightly from his wife to scoop his daughter up. "You came back! I thought you'd be gone forever."
She wept as she gripped his neck tightly. Tears ran down his face as well. She had grown since he left; some of the baby fat thinned out. She was leaner and taller than he pictured her. Just as quickly her tears vanished, and she tugged at his beard in her familiar way. She wrinkled her nose. "Your hair stinks."
He could not help but laugh.
"Yes, your father needs a good bath." Evelina smiled. "Tell the girls to get a tub ready." Alexis scurried away shouting orders, and they laughed once more. Looking into Evelina's sky-colored eyes, he knew he would never leave her alone again. He opened his mouth, but she placed a finger over his lips.
"It can wait, my love. I know you have much to say, but it can wait. All that matters for now is that you're here, safe with me, with us again. You will bathe and eat, and after you rest you can tell me all that has happened. Come with me now." She took his hand in hers and led him into the warmth of homecoming.
Time drifted on peaceful wings as he bathed, dressed and ate. All the while, he recounted what had happened to him, from Lucretius' betrayal to his capture and escape. He told of meeting Nyori, and how she had brought him back from certain death.
"She saved my life. I knew the Shama were powerful healers, but this was something new. That staff she possessed…" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. Since then all that I thought about was getting here. Getting back to you."
They reclined on a cushioned divan in an upstairs room where they often came to relax. He leaned against her bosom while she clipped his hair with a pair of scissors.
The room was adorned with elegantly carved furniture. A bust of Reynar the Frey wore a trickster's grin from its pedestal in the corner. Moonlight streamed through the set of stained-glass windows and painted the burnished coat of arms on the wall in rainbow colors.
"And you brought a young, beautiful woman along such a long trek and expected me to believe nothing happened?" Evelina smiled, her eyes deviously playful.
"It's…nothing like that. She's too young, and—" Marcellus was stopped by her laughter.
"Do you truly think I would think that of you? Marcellus, I know you from the inside out. You are ever the gallant knight. Trust that I will see the Shama receives the full hospitality of House Admorran."
Her hands softly stroked his face, and her face grew somber. "I am so sorry for your losses, my love. Especially Jaslin. I know how much he meant to you. But they were soldiers, just as you. You cannot take the blame for their deaths."
"Someone will answer for what happened." Anger blazed; his fists tightened until the knuckles cracked. "I will go to Lucretius himself, and—"
Her hands pressed on his chest. "You will rest. You need time to think things over. Then you will go to your king."
"Something has to be done…" His protests weakened as she placed her hands on his shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes.
"No more talk of the dead. For now, let me enjoy that my husband, whom all thought had perished, has come back to me." She drew closer. "Let us love one another."
All other thoughts vanished as he pulled her to him and felt her mouth melt on his. His hands ran over her body, sliding down the silk and caressing the skin that was even smoother.
"Marcellus!"
He paused with a frown. I know that voice. It was Nyori's…it sounded like an urgent whisper from behind the door.
"What is it, my love?" Evelina touched his face. One of the straps of her nightgown had slid off, exposing much of her full breasts. Her blue eyes were full of hunger.
"It's nothing. I thought I heard—"
The door burst open. Nyori stood in the doorway, bathing the entire room with the golden glow from the crystalline staff she favored.
"Marcellus, get away from her!" Her voice was powerful, almost commanding. In confusion, he turned to Evelina.
What he saw was a nightmare.
What lay in his arms was no woman. The staff's blaring light revealed a blurred, insubstantial figure. Its ghostly limbs wrapped around his; the chalk-white face barely visible save for the flare of its eyes, flickering torches in twin caves. Marcellus shoved the creature away from him with a startled yell.
As it fell backwards, a look of terrible rage contorted its face even further. Its brows furrowed so heavily that its eyes became tiny dots of fire, its mouth widened grotesquely, a pit of razor-lined blackness that tried to swallow the entire room. What emitted from the bestial throat was a scream, the wail of a thousand banshees skinned alive, as though the creature vomited all of its hatred and rage into sound.
The shriek resounded throughout the manor walls, buffeting Marcellus to the floor as he clutched his head. The orb winked out, Nyori shrieked as she toppled as though struck.
The stained-glass windows behind them crashed outward; a broken rainbow that fell to the snow-covered grounds outside. A shard fell beside Marcellus. Even then he saw the reflection of the monstrosity as it reached downward and seized him with a clawed, ghostly hand.
"It could have all gone so well."
When he lifted his head, Evelina was before him with all of her beauty intact. But he knew it was not his wife that spoke. His wife was dead, and some creature wore her flesh. She held him easily by his collar; his toes barely grazed the floor.
"Your life is useless — all you loved is lost. You should have died in the wilderness, Marcellus of Kaerleon."
Words weren't necessary. Marcellus punched as hard as he could, wincing as his fist crushed her face and snapped her head backward.
It whipped back just as quickly. Blood smeared across her reptilian smile; her eyes glowed with heinous amusement. "You'll have to do better than that, my love." She shoved, hurling him across the broken slivers. "Especially if you plan on living beyond the next few moments."
Marcellus' back struck the wall, rattling a hanging coat of arms. He sprang to his feet and snatched one of the swords from the display. He risked a glance at Nyori, who appeared completely dazed as she tried to raise herself erect. At least she was still alive. Which might not be the case if he couldn't stop the specter that approached like swift death.