Page 125 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“If by free, you mean succumb to their wickedness?”
“Can you deny that they are already doing so?”
I stared him down for a long moment, willing the walls into place. Walls that had been built using energy I no longer had. “No.” The word was matter of fact.
“I didn’t think so. So what’s the point Prin—”
“Don’t finish that.”
“Fine.” A lupine smile carved into his cheeks. “So what’s the point, Alvara, of Grayshell? Why fight so hard to guard them, when they won’t even fight for themselves? Why fight for their light, when they themselves want nothing but shadow? Why force them to be what they are not?”
“I believe in doing what’s right. God intended them tobethe light. Not the shadow.”
“And yet...they fall short. Daily. They’re tormented by their imperfection—the very humanity they’re promised redeems them. Why torment them with what theycannotbe?”
“You’ll damn them all.”
“They damn themselves.” He sneered and ran an enormous hand through his long, straight hair. The worst part was that I couldn’t argue with him, couldn’t fully disagree. “They spit in the face of the gift they were given, that is so cruelly withheld from our kind, due to no crime of our own.”
“Yourcrimes will land you in Hell in no time.”
His eyes guttered, shadows dancing there. “As will yours, Alvara of Grayshell.”
“We don’t know that. We are half human, half—”
“Redeemed? Loved? Wanted? Think again,Princess. For your aunts and uncles above us would smite you the moment they laid eyes on you. All but one.”
My eyes narrowed, a fraction of an inch, but I wasn’t willing to say the name that I knew he was baiting from me. The corner of his lip twitched up, reading my anger, my stubbornness and loathing.
“The only one who believes we have a right to exist—that we are as much a product of love as our human counterparts. That we deserve to set our own fate. Lucifer sees how we were wronged.”
“And you believe him? The great deceiver spins lies in your ears, and you obey—”
He slammed his hands into the table, rattling the metal plates as he stood. “The great deceiver paid no attention until I saw their evil for myself. You think the Creator’s most beloved, angel of music, dared question his creator fornothing? He saw the wickedness, the ungrateful wretches you serve so adamantly, and saw the way his Creator stooped so low to become one, saw that he—thatwe—would be cast aside despite our superiority.”
At some point I had risen to my own feet, my teeth bared at him. “You’re no better than the wickedest of men.”
“Youarebetter than thegreatestof men.Weare. That’s the difference. While you and Aren spin webs of delusion, suffering from self-imposed kalopsia, you fail to become all that you are designed to be. Created to be. But you worship the ground these evanescent, ungrateful mortals piss upon.”
“Weworshipone God.”
“And yet your life is dedicated to becoming weapons of death. What would the Prince of Peace say about that?”
“Only death for evil creatures like you, who value no life but their own.”
“The lives I valued were all snuffed out like chattel by those you are sworn to defend.” I bit back the words on my tongue. Sensing my silence, perhaps my flicker of surprise, he continued, “They’re a miserable lot. All of them. Save the scattered few with the courage tobe. The grit to persevere, as you do. The tenacity to follow the light. And I assure you, cousin, they will be spared. Lights like that are not so easily snuffed out. Nor would I wish them to be. Lights...likeyou. I cannot promise they won’t suffer in the transition. But assure you, they will rise in any environment.” Adrastos sighed again, and sat back into his chair, scooping his ancient looking goblet to his mouth. “Like a phoenix, from the ashes, born anew.”
He continued as he set it back on the wood table before us. I found my seat again. “You have spent more time with them than I have. I’m sure at this point we can agree, most would happily sign away their freedom should we offer toprovide. They’re weak, courage-less creatures, prone to laziness and self-absorption. They are cruel, and selfish as a whole. They don’t care to fight, let alone excel. They want this. Wantme. Want to be handed the bare necessities, left to their own pleasures, and stripped of the burdens this world has thrust upon them. I will not torture or torment them as you no doubt believe. I will free them. Free them of the expectations your lot have placed on them all these years. They’re incapable of being any more than they have always been. They will not change. They will not better themselves. Surely you, of all people, see that.”
Silence sat between us. For a moment, my focus wandered to the stacks of books placed sporadically through the space, most leather-bound and gilded. A stack of great black tomes caught my attention, and I tucked away the titles for later:Radices Medicinales et Herbae,Audentes Fortuna Iuvat, Maledicta et Illusiones.My Latin wasn’t as polished as Aren’s, but from what I could tell, he was studying medicine, herbs, and illusions. I flexed my fingers under the table, willing the embers back where they belonged. Willing any flicker of power to appear so I could get out of here. He sneered and rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.
“Try as you might, Alvara of Grayshell, there is no lifting what has been done to you unless Agamemnon wills it so, or the breath drains from his lungs. You are, as you say, at our mercy for the time being. Eat. Drink. Heal. I am sorry the drug slowed that last bit down.” Adrastos twirled a gold fork between his fingers and speared a vegetable off his plate.
I eyed the food in front of me, still steaming with warmth. Chicken in a cream sauce, and steamed broccoli and carrots. Despite the grumble in my belly, there was no way I was eating anything he had provided for me. He sneered and rolled his eyes before slamming his fork down on the table and reaching across for my plate. He snapped his fingers, and both of our chicken breasts were finely diced. He dumped my portion onto his own plate, mixed the food together with my own fork, and then scooped half the contents back onto the gold platter in front of me. He did the same with the wine in the goblets, pouring them back and forth between the two, swirling the ruby liquid as he set it in front of me. Adrastos stuffed his mouth with the now mixed food, and washed it down with a gulp of wine so quickly his eyes watered. He extended his hand as if to say, ‘there you go’. I shoved the plate an inch away from me. He telekinetically shoved it back.
“If I wanted you dead, Princess, you would be. Now. Eat.Please.” The last word came through clenched teeth.
“Why bother? With any of this?” I motioned to the food in front of us, and then touched the place he had healed on my cheek. He continued chewing, eyes going a bit hazy as he did. He took another long mouthful of wine, before taking to swishing the liquid in circles in his goblet.
