Eric Linnaeus | Book 3 | Chapter 20 - Strays That Bite (Patreon)

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𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔹𝕚𝕥𝕖ᴍᴀʀᴋᴏs ʙᴇʟʟᴇʀᴏsᴇ: ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ - ᴍᴀʏ, 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟶.

─── .✦········· ───

Daylight shone in through the skylight, casting streams of bright light into the room that highlighted the dust in the air. I rather like the smell of parchment, and so I chose to sit at a desk among the bookshelves of the library as I searched. On the table before me, a great number of ancient texts lay haphazardly sprawled one on top of another, and arranged in no particular manner as I flipped between them.

Our young lord wouldn’t heed my warnings unless I brought him proof, and I was certain the truth was close at hand—if only I could find it. The information was fragmented, riddled with vague reports and convoluted histories with little verification. Killian had witnessed the Orphan resurrect, and Molly had seen him releasing Lazarus, but much like the ancient writings, there was no way to be certain.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes as I sat back. Some time had passed since Claire told me of her pregnancy, and I was perhaps more paranoid because of it. The Orphan had lied to her about her child, making him a threat not only to this castle but also to my family directly. I had my suspicions that he was not what he pretended to be, and experience had taught me that those who intend no harm do not uphold facades. Still, I could not prove anything.

It was frustrating. He couldn’t be that intelligent, or at least, not more intelligent than I. Perhaps that was what bothered me most—I was being outsmarted by some worthless brat. Closing my eyes I refocused, skimming my memory for points of discrepancy to investigate. Achaicus had come to me some days before with an interesting claim to make, and I wondered absently if there was something more to it.

“You are fine, Achaicus. There is no damage internally or externally. If anything, your energy glands appear to be producing more magic than when you last saw me,” I had told him with little concern. He was always worried about something, and there was no reason to assume anything worse until he continued:

“I’m telling you he poisoned me,” he hissed with an urgent honesty.

I sighed, “Fine, tell me again what he gave you?”

“It looked to be a caramel candy; it was wrapped in black paper. But it was only sweet on the outside, the inside was an awful black liquid and he made me ingest it by force.”

“By force?”

“Yes!”

That claim was perhaps what worried me the most for it meant that either Achaicus had become so weakened that he could not fight off a human, for all we could tell, or that Eric was stronger than we thought. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

“Was it bitter or sour?”

“Mostly bitter,” he muttered, dejected.

“Then it sounds as though he gave you a hailjan candy.”

The starch-based candies are brewed in magic. We used to feed them to human children to lower the salt levels in their meat.

Achaicus scrunched his nose, “He gave me something intended for livestock?”

“Most likely. Although I could not even begin to guess where he could have gotten it. We haven’t needed to use them in decades.”

“Vile. I’m certain he intended it to harm me. I spent the entire night vomiting.”

“Then ensure you drink plenty today. The candy will not cause you any particular harm, but… Don’t accept anything more he offers you. You know very well that he is not on our side.”

“…Nathaniel is sleeping in the same space as Eric, I’m concerned he will hurt my brother.”

“There is little we can do until we are certain.”

“By that time it may already be too late!”

Of course, Achaicus was correct. Eric is sly. He disappears when he senses he is being followed and has a strange way of knowing when he is being talked about. Achaicus requested that Molly follow the boy, and according to her, he has been vanishing into the forest alone daily since his return with Charles some time ago.

More annoyingly he no longer leaves the castle grounds on ‘hunting jobs’, which he had once claimed were so important to him. This means he is far too close all too often; but I could see no reason why he should attempt to poison Achaicus with a candy that does nothing but purge salt.

I opened my eyes again with a sense of dissatisfaction. What could I tell Nathaniel? ‘Your Pet force-fed your brother an unpleasant treat that caused no lasting effects, also he leaves the castle every day’? —It would hardly be worth wasting the breath; he would dismiss me without a second thought.

As the day drew on I came across a book written in old Norse runes and hesitated. I could read it, for the most part. Although, some passages were more difficult to decipher, and I needed to consult with a translation guide. I moved to get the required script, leaving the desk for only a brief moment, and when I returned, Eric was standing beside it.

“What are you doing, Orphan?” I demanded as he glanced over the books.

“I could ask you the same, reading ancient books? What are you looking for?”

“What should it concern you?”

“It doesn’t,” he said simply as he closed the book I had been attempting to read, losing my page for me.

“Then why are you here?”

“I heard you spoke with Charles. I suppose I should have known you would be the one to organize something like that,” he said calmly.

“If you’re looking for an apology you won’t get one,” I responded in a flat tone.

“I’m not after an apology. But I’m tired of this game Markos; I have no intention of hurting you, or Achaicus, or Nathaniel and I’m not hiding anything.”

He lied so easily I could have almost believed him. “Are you getting worried I’ll find something?”

“There’s nothing to find.”

“You lied to Claire about our child.”

“And?”

I smiled tightly, “You intended to have my child killed.”

“And you intended to have your child’s uncle and I killed. Don’t pretend to be offended now, you know well how this world works.”

“You’re a cold man, Orphan. I wonder just how long it will take before others see it.”

The room darkened as clouds passed over the sun and Eric’s eyes glinted in the dimness, “Think what you like. I won’t waste my breath trying to convince you of my innocence.”

He left without saying anything further, and I watched him go with suspicion before returning to the desk. It seemed he had done nothing more than inconvenience me for everything else was just as it had been. Still, I sat back down with trepidation, double-checking for unpleasantries before beginning to translate the pages. The text itself pertained to ancient battles between the Old Ones.

Hundreds of thousands of years ago there was a great battle. The mighty Æsir, it began, and I rolled my eyes. This text may very well have been written by one of their descendants, if they had any. The Æsir were once powerful beings and avid hunters; they faced many giant beasts and had little regard for much else.

Their last great battle nearly wiped all species from this world, and it angered the other ancients. Excessively violent species often come to equally quick, violent ends, and for however powerful they might have been, the Æsir were no exception. They were extinguished by an alliance of the Old Ones, and the Great Laws were established in a treaty agreement among those that remained.

The Valkyrie were tasked with upholding the laws: their self-righteous nature and inflated sense of justice were only useful for that. For the most part, we rarely see them now; they don’t often come down from their mountain tops. One could be forgiven for forgetting their existence.

I traced my fingers over the paper as I thought and skipped over some pages idly. These were histories all fae children were taught, and I didn’t need to revise them. I was certain Eric was not an Æsir, nor a Valkyrie. He had no wings and was far too weak to be Æsir. I paused when I came across a list of the original laws. The first of them stated:

‘No species shall expose themselves to the world in a manner that causes great destruction.’

It was ironic that a derivative of that law was the one I myself was in danger of breaking with Miss Walsh, and it made me uneasy. Choosing to pretend I had not been reminded, I continued on, turning the pages until I came to a place where one had been torn from the book. That was peculiar and I smiled to myself. Whoever had thought they could hide something from me was mistaken, for I knew where I could find a second copy of the text.

─── .✦········· ───

More time passed while I waited, and I found myself growing increasingly impatient. If I had known what I needed before the fae of Leúchtend arrived, I would have had Baltzar bring it with him. Now, I would have to wait for a second group to bring it over. Disconnected pieces of information stirred in my mind: the attacks on our borders, an enforcer visiting, missing pages…

“‘Old Ones’” Nathaniel had quoted blandly when I asked what the enforcers had said was causing the northern chaos.

I cannot well enough explain how useless that information was. To inform our young leader that the Old Ones had returned to the area was about as helpful as stating that the sun would rise. Of course whoever it was, was an old species.

‘Old Ones’ is a term used to refer to old species in general. Fae are an old species, Selkies are old, as are a handful of others. Perhaps the only species that is not old are the Ghouls. So that was of no help. It gave us no information of what we were to face.

“And you chose not to ask him to elaborate?” I scolded him.

“He spoke as if he expected that I should know who he was referring to, and I didn’t wish him to realize otherwise,” he snapped back.

“You shouldn’t have gone alone.”

“I barely had the time to ready myself, let alone find you, especially as you are so often not in your office as you should be.”

“There are many matters which require my attention.”

“Trying to find whatever it is that you think will convince me Eric is here to end my life?”

“Among other things, yes.”

It was too much of a coincidence that our borders should be under siege precisely when Eric was once again residing within them. In fact, that was what had convinced me to search the library’s old texts, for I was certain he was connected.

There are markings below the surface of Eric’s skin and notches in his bones. I discovered this when he was a child. At the time, I thought they were old magic and wondered if Nathaniel had used an ancient spell of some kind on the boy. When I found out he had not, I kept the information to myself in case I ever needed it.

Unfortunately, it had been so long since I had seen them that I couldn’t remember what they looked like, and I doubted he would allow an examination now. I considered ordering Calla to injure him in training so that I would have the opportunity to look him over, but it seemed she no longer trained with him.

“Calla, please-” Eric’s voice echoed in the halls one night after dinner.

“Don’t touch me,” Calla snapped in response. Her tone was oddly aggressive, considering how muted she was.

“I’m sorry, you know that.”

“I don’t care. I told you before I never wish to speak with you again. Even so much as seeing you is a bother. Now move aside.”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you-”

“I said I don’t care!” she shouted before lowering her voice more dangerously, “I hate you. So stop trying. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“…Please…”

There was something satisfying about hearing the pain in his pleading, and I was almost impressed by Calla’s hostility. I never thought a day would come when they would be at odds. She had always been fond of him, and I wondered what he could have ever done to elicit such malice from her.

I never did get the chance to ask before the book I requested arrived under the protection of two guards. The copy was not as well kept as the one Dunkel had, but at least it had all its pages. It contained the missing information I sought, although, I now wish I had not read it.

─── .✦········· ───

I slept not at all that night as I researched, and in the morning, I waited. I knew Eric would leave the castle through the back alleyways and enter into the forest. There is a tunnel with loose grating that exits on the forest side. It’s intended as an emergency escape route in times of danger and is not physically guarded.

Instead, there is a spell in place that one must activate to pass. I stood on the outside of the tunnel out of immediate view, and it was not long before the blue glow of magic indicated someone’s presence. It was Eric, as I expected, and I stepped forward.

“Going somewhere, Orphan?” I mused.

It was clear he was on edge, for he was startled to see me. The expression passed so quickly that I couldn’t be sure it had even existed. “Why are you lurking?” he muttered in response.

“I can stand where I please. Now, where are you going?”

“It’s none of your concern, and you would be wise to return to the castle.”

“You leave each day through this back tunnel; it’s rather peculiar, and I find myself wondering what it is that you could possibly be doing?”

“Wonder all you like; it’s none of your business,” he retorted.

“Everything that happens in this castle is my business.”

“Do I need to tell Nathaniel that you’re harassing me, Markos?”

I smiled bitterly; he was such an arrogant little shit. “Perhaps you’re meeting with someone you shouldn’t? That would certainly be reason to sneak around like a shadow.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he spoke calmly. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, I have never had less of a desire to talk to you than I do right now, so I’ll be going.”

Eric began to move past me, and I made sure to choose my next words with care, “Tell me, why would a Vanir choose to pretend to be human for so long?”

He hesitated as he processed, turning back just slightly, “What did you just call me?”

“Did you really think you could get away with this forever? I’ll admit tearing those pages slowed me down. It was fortunate that Leúchtend had a second copy, and they were able to send it to me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your lies won’t work on me. I also know you’re the one who helped Lazarus escape Leúchtend, and you’re going to see him right now, aren’t you, little Orphan?”

“And just who told you that?” he demanded tensely.

“A credible source.”

“I doubt it. Otherwise, why would you be standing here talking to me rather than running to tell Nathaniel?”

“Because I cannot understand why you’ve done any of this. Nathaniel has been far kinder than you ever deserved, yet you plot his demise. Why?” I demanded. He was correct, it mattered little, save to satisfy my own curiosity.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? Then do explain?”

“There’s nothing to explain.”

This was going to be more difficult than I thought. “We found your cane, Eric.”

The Orphan hesitated as understanding dawned, and he clenched his jaw. “Of course you did.”

“I know everything. There’s nowhere left for you to hide. You could attack me now, but the moment I flare my energy, all will know something is wrong. You would never get away with it. So, I suggest you make the correct choice, and come quietly.”

Eric gave a short humorless laugh, “Threatening me?”

“I would simply prefer not to waste my energy on a fight at this moment,” I countered sedately.

He stepped closer to me then, and I stood my ground. “You truly believe I’m Vanir?”

“I know you are.”

“Good.”

The way he said it was as if he was glad, and that gave me pause. I was missing something, though I dared not ask. In truth, my accusation was little more than a guess; in fact, all my accusations were guesses. You see, the missing pages did speak of an ancient species known as the Vanir. Of their blue eyes and various magics.

Although the creatures described had light hair, not dark as Eric did, and a majority of the text was little more than ancient spells. Additionally, I hadn’t found his cane. I was merely adjusting my responses based on each tiny reaction he gave in an attempt to get him to give me the information I was missing. I had struck something with the mention of his cane, but it was the word Vanir that caused his aura to spike.

As I contemplated what he meant by ‘good’, he continued: “If you believe I’m a Vanir, then surely you have some working knowledge of what they’re capable of?”

“What’s your point?” I asked, watching him warily. He didn’t draw his sword nor make any other move to attack, but there was something dangerous in his eyes.

“If I am what you say I am, you’ve just made a mistake.”

“How so?”

He was only inches from me. I was taller and stronger, but overconfident. He placed a hand on my chest, and I caught his wrist. He dared think he could lay a hand on me? His eye seemed unusually blue as he leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“The Vanir aren’t worshiped as gods of fertility and death for nothing, and you have a pregnant human to worry about.”

My blood ran cold. I knew in that instant that I was correct, and he was right—I had made a mistake. I had not truly believed he could be a vanir, I entertained the idea because there were records of them revenanting. But I thought it impossible that he could have hidden as much from us. A Vanir? Right under our noses? They are a northern species and had not crossed our borders for decades. It seemed far-fetched, and while I was certain about his involvement with Lazarus, I had still assumed he was largely powerless.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Markos?” he asked emotionlessly, “If you say one word, about any of this to Nathaniel, I’ll ruin your life. Even if he orders I be executed in a permanent way, I’ll ensure that Claire loses her child. I’ll use everything I have to make sure your child dies and that she can never fall pregnant again. If you think I can’t, why don’t you ask Calla.”

I’d been outsmarted by a feral. I failed to consider the consequences of being correct, I’d lost focus somewhere, and now I regretted this course of action. Furthermore, I had no idea what he meant by asking Calla. What could she possibly know about this? “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now make your choice, because I won’t be having this conversation with you a second time.”

“You little-”

“You’ll say nothing, and I’ll allow that abomination of a child you’re having to live. Do we have an understanding?”

I hate him. With everything I have I curse the day Nathaniel ever brought him home.

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