Mahleck's warm blood seeped around her fingers. Queen Mila let go of the knife and backed away in horror. Blood streamed down the Locust King's naked body and pooled on the floor, sending rivulets between the flagstones and into the steaming bath. He stood in shock, looking at the knife and then to the Queen as the lute continued to play.
“I must say, you still surprise me, lady,” he said, smiling broadly. He covered the space between them in two steps, pinning her to the bedroom door before she could turn to run. “The problem with knives is that it is difficult to find the heart. So, the victim dies quickly. Don’t blame yourself. On any other man this would have been fatal. Let me give you a lesson in anatomy, dear one.”
He grabbed her right hand and curled it around the hilt of the dagger still protruding from his chest. He kept her hand in his and pulled the blade outward with a sucking sound. “A little bit more to the right and up slightly to puncture the heart, you see?”
He took her other hand and held it to his chest, above his heart. She could feel its slow and steady beat below her palm. “Do you feel it, my lady?” She nodded, tears falling from her eyes. “My heart has been beating for a thousand years. It will beat for a thousand more. Let me show you.” He pulled her hand away from his chest and guided the knife point to the place directly over his heart. “Are you afraid?”
“Yes.”
He slowly moved his body forward, the knife piercing his unblemished skin and then sinking into the flesh. He threw his head back in ecstasy as the blade penetrated his heart. She could feel his hot blood spurting out and drenching the both of them. He stepped back, leaving her shuddering against the door.
He truly is the Devil. She dropped the knife. The lute played on.
“Ah, no!" he purred. "My lady... in my pleasure I seem to have soiled your gown. Let me help you.” He wrapped his hand in her chestnut hair and dragged her bodily back to the edge of the bath. “You seem to have forgotten your knife. Let me, please.” He picked it up from the floor and walked back to the Queen’s sobbing form still next to the bath. She looked up at him, standing over her naked. His black hair had streaks of grey at the temples now. Lines had appeared around his eyes.
He yanked her to her feet again. As he cut the blood-soaked gown from her shaking body he said, “I will tell you a secret, Queen of Adyll. I do believe in your Goddess. And I believe you are her descendant. For you are as brave as she was when I locked her away deep in the heart of the earth. No other woman has dared to try and take my life, except for your Lady. She never succumbed to me, and when I killed her, she escaped me even after death.” He dropped her naked body into the bath. She came up sputtering in the blood-stained water.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked as he stepped into the bath. She moved as quickly as she could away from him, floundering to the far side of the steaming red pool.
“You are the Captor, the Seducer, the Devil. The one from which our Goddess fled with her child. You are strigoi-viu. You are evil.”
He laughed, as one would laugh at a precocious child. “I would have been her protector, her lover, and her God had she not spurned my love for that of my brother.” He moved closer to her in the water. No sign of the wound left on his chest. The dagger yet in his hand. “And still she mocks me!” he cried. “Still! You call yourself a goddess, Aisha! Here is your precious child, and you are helpless to save her! She is mine by right!”
His hand shot out and grasped the Queen’s wrist, pulling her to him in the water as she struggled to get away. “No!” she cried. He pinned her to him with her back to his chest. She could not see the knife.
“Look, child, your mother is coming for you.” He turned her face to the far wall of the room, which had been obscured by the steam.
From the vapor slowly emerged the figure of a woman with golden hair dressed in the color of the sky; hands bestowing a blessing on those before her. The Queen quieted as she beheld the beauty of the sanctuary statue. How often had she prayed before it? How many times had she offered incense and flowers before this statue?
And now I am being offered before it. But not to the Lady.
He pulled her to the ledge that ran along the sides of the bath and sat her upon his lap; cradling her in one arm as he would a child. He held up one of her hands and traced a vein with the blade of her dagger.
“You could have been my descendant, Queen. My daughter, with my immortal blood running in your veins.” She didn’t even flinch when he cut down her wrist and the blood began to flow. She kept her eyes fixed on the steam-shrouded figure who seemed to beckon to her from the far end of the pool. He licked the blood from her forearm, sucking on the wound. “Still, it is sweet - the sweetest I have had since your goddess. I can smell her essence within you, Queen.” She turned to face him. His hair was no longer grey, and his eyes no longer hollow.
The Queen turned away and fixed her eyes on the statue of the Goddess while he cut her again, and again, and again. The water around them swirled in red eddies.
Grant us vengeance, Holy Mother. Let my daughter rest under your wings. Forgive me, Lady. I am too tired to fight.
She could feel herself slipping away. The water was warm, and the face of the Goddess was so beautiful. The lute still played, like the sweetest lullaby. She laid her head back on the demon’s shoulder. He made his final cut, the knife just below her jaw, severing the artery. She had lost so much blood already that it only seeped in a low ebb from her neck. He dipped his head and kissed the wound.
She could see the Goddess clearly now. The vapor had diminished, and it was much brighter than it was before. The Goddess held out her hand to the Queen and smiled. There were others with her now, standing behind the beautiful golden-haired Goddess.
Come, child. Come fly on the winds with us. It is peaceful here, and you can rest. You have done well. The Lady’s voice was like the softest mountain wind. The Queen smiled as she saw her husband step out of the crowd to greet her as she rose from the water and went into the brightness.
Mahleck lifted his head from his feast. He could feel Her.
“I know you are here, Aisha! I can feel you! Have you come to claim your daughter? Have you come to remind me of the pain I feel because of what you made me do?”
The room brightened for a moment. Then faded.
Mahleck dropped the limp form of the Queen into the water. The corpse’s eyes still seemed to focus on the idol at the end of the bath.
“BITCH!” yelled Mahleck. “WHORE! I will take every one of your children as recompense for your treachery. I will make them pay with every drop of their blood. Do you hear me, whore?!”
The lute stopped playing.
“Lilua, tell the guards to summon the serving women to come in and clean up this mess. And then join me in my bath. I am lonely.”