poisoned blades 10
A Failed Plan Leads to Better Angles
“Sir, nobody in the castle will stir…” Alain, a human servant in the castle bowed low before Lucithet.
“What do you mean?” Lucithet demanded.
“I tried everything! All of them fell like they were ill from the drink!” Alain exclaimed.
“Father,” Nightshade approached the blonde man and bowed.
“I see your cousins found you,” Lucithet noted all of his sons and nephews bowing before him.
“Yes, and the horned god will be most pleased with our sacrifice,” Nightshade said with a crooked smile.
“I see that you are indeed ready to follow in my footsteps,” Lucithet smiled at his indeed evil son, despite his wife’s best efforts.
“Father, I have a plan with treachery that I am sure you will approve of. Should I tell you before or after the ceremony?” Nightshade stood upright and instructed his followers to do the same.
“Tell me before while we prepare,” Lucithet offered. “Now, follow me…” he led the group of young warlocks through his chambers and into the dark summoning room.
“Well, what would be better for the dark magic than a witch, not human?” Nightshade asked.
“You want to marry a witch?” Lucithet asked.
“I am going to wed Windfire Deverill and tell them that we’re going to overtake the throne and rule France beneath the god and goddess. We’ll use my ties to their family to get into their castle and take them down at the opportune moment when we are ready to rule France,” Nightshade explained, his gaze and tone even, although his smile was crooked.
Lucithet blinked a few times. That was more treacherous than he expected even from his oldest son. “I’ll send a messenger for Countess Crystalwind tonight, after your ceremony.”
“Excellent. We can tell them that it is a truce,” Nightshade’s eyes glinted with the darkness that was in his noble blood.
Lucithet took the knife to his own hand. He looked at the wound that was fairly fresh on his oldest son’s hand. “You cut yourself for the god already?”
“It would be blaspheming if I didn’t spill my blood for the god, even for a sacrifice,” Nightshade answered and his father nodded once before reopening the closing wound on his son’s hand. His plan was working perfectly.
“By the dark god…” Lucithet watched the room fade into complete darkness, the candles blowing out immediately after his doxology. “My son wishes my power, my gifts on his eighteenth birthday, my lord!”
A raspy voice croaked, “Nightshade…you will indeed be a treacherous warlock…”
“Thank you, dark god,” Nightshade bowed, even though he couldn’t tell where the god was, if he was even present.
“You are indeed worthy of my power!” the god declared. Light returned to the room and a puff of black smoke burst from Lucithet’s body and entered Nightshade’s body, nearly knocking the warlock over.
“That was amazing…” Salem awed.
“Indeed it was,” Lucithet agreed, staring at his oldest son with pride.
“Midnight, go tell Alain to send an invitation to the countess and her oldest daughter,” Nightshade shooed his cousin from the room, and his cousin knew to obey. Nightshade could feel the power flowing through his veins. He knew that he could bring his beloved to him with the ultimate treachery.
Windfire closed her eyes and took in a deep breath as the black orb from her mother’s soul inched closer to her body. She felt the immense power, the blessing of the goddess…she felt even closer to Nightshade than she had earlier that day. Somehow, without a vision, she knew that their plan would be underway.
“How do you feel, priestess?” Crystalwind asked her daughter.
“Like killing the worthless witch covens off,” Windfire replied, her eyes now bearing the odd color of nearly white.
“You truly are the most powerful Deverill ever born…” Crystalwind smiled a wicked smile as she watched her daughter leave the room with unspeakable grace.
The countess approached the door of her castle with extreme caution. A servant opened the door and let in the young messenger from the Gerard coven. “What does he want?”
“Countess,” Alain bowed low before holding up the invitation that Midnight had told him to write.
The countess accepted the note and read it, “He wants to make an offer?” Crystalwind asked.
“Master Midnight told me that they were orders from Master Nightshade and Sir Lucithet…” Alain said quickly.
“I see,” Crystalwind nodded. “Merci for bringing me this,” Crystalwind looked up to the top of the staircase where her oldest daughter stood.
“He reeks of Gerard…” Windfire hissed.
“Nightshade, the priest of the Gerard coven wants to meet with us…” Crystalwind explained.
Windfire looked puzzled. “What for?” she lifted the drapes of her gown and rushed down the stairs to read the invitation.
“It says to make an offering,” Crystalwind replied.
Windfire nodded, “I bet he wants to try and save his pathetic coven.”
Crystalwind smirked, “We shall see, shan’t we?”
“Indeed,” Windfire cackled.

poisoned blades 12