Sister of the Dead - By Barb Hendee & J. C. Hendee Page 0,127

its frosted glass. As she stepped inside, a movement caught her attention. Magelia saw herself in a long mirror on the wall by the table.

She looked like a lady, one who might accompany her lord in the keep.

The room appeared clean but had the thin stench of a spilled chamber pot overlaid with a lingering sweet odor she couldn't name. There were two others present as Lord Massing stepped in behind her. She saw their reflections in the mirror with her own and turned about.

Standing near the bed was the masked and robed eyesore called Ubad. He wore a smile on his thin lips and tucked his hands into the opposing sleeves of his charcoal robe. On the far side of the bed stood Welstiel.

She'd heard him refer to Lord Massing as Father, but Welstiel looked to be the elder of the two. Fine lines surrounded his cold eyes, and his dark hair was white at the temples. Her opinion of him was only slightly better than that of the other two. He was quiet and removed, and he seemed to disapprove of both her presence and captivity.

On a narrow stand beside Ubad was a strange vessel, not unlike a vase that she'd once seen used for cut flowers. Metallic and yellow red, perhaps made of brass, it was covered in etched symbols. A dark liquid filled it nearly to the top, though its color was unclear in the room's low light. It made her anxious when she realized that the thick, sweet scent in the room came from whatever the vessel held. She tried to back away. Lord Massing's hand flattened against her back. Magelia stepped farther into the room, away from his touch.

Welstiel looked her over, and she saw that his face looked different from before. His dark eyes were flat and emotionless like Lord Bryen's. His skin was pale.

"Is she not improved, my son?" Lord Bryen said. "I had the gown purchased in Stravina and sent all the way from its capital, Vudran, just for this night. I've seen you admire women in this color and style. "

Fear began to grow in Magelia.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

All three men ignored her.

"I have no interest in anything you ask, Father. " Welstiel said. "You might as well take her back to her room. Or better yet, release her from this lunacy. "

Bryen shoved Magelia toward Welstiel. She caught herself on the nearest post of the bed. A heavy curved sword leaned by the headboard behind Welstiel, and she froze.

"You will do as I say!" Bryen ordered, and a semblance of anger surfaced in his voice. "The careful and costly steps of Master Ubad cannot be wasted. It has taken him a lifetime of preparation for this night. "

His voice lowered and softened, but Magelia kept her eyes on Welstiel's face, occasionally glancing to the sword.

"You play a role far greater than you know, my son, " Bryen continued. "You will sire our patron's treasured one. A Noble Dead cannot lead its own kind in what is to come, nor can a mere mortal. Something of both is needed. You will hold the esteemed position of father to a being this world has never seen, even in its forgotten days. A herald of what is to come when our patron wakes again. "

Magelia's stomach twisted. She didn't understand all she heard, but one thing was clear.

"Do as Master Ubad instructs, " Bryen said to his son. "Drink the collected life of the five that has been prepared for you. Then take this girl and make a child of day and night before which all the world will fall. I know this woman appears to be only a peasant, but she is from old blood, very old, and a singular vessel for this creation. "

Welstiel's dull eyes widened.

"You want me to drink more blood... and make a child with... with that?" He gestured to Magelia. "No! Even when I would have done anything to please you, I wouldn't have done this. I will not touch blood again or touch this woman. "

"Young lord, you do not understand—, " Ubad began gently.

"Quiet!" Welstiel shouted. "You are the cause of all this, and I am sick of your poisoned tongue. "

He pushed past his father, and to Magelia's surprise, he broke easily away from Bryen's grip on his shoulder.

Welstiel paused when he reached the door. "If you wish to serve that masked abomination, " he spat back at Bryen.