XXVII

Rowan and Manar were riding at the back of the car. Sitting at the front was the driver and a male secretary. The secretary had his lips reddened and purple streaks in his dark hair. His eyes were green but were decorated with black paint. He was on the phone.
    “Miss Kirilian’s current plan is to talk to a highly reliable informant,” he reported. “Agreed, extra security would be advisable. You can expect an appearance on the East side of the Twilight Corner in the Terrotis Territory…It’s not certain if any information will be discovered at all. No sir, we’ll not delay to the meeting…There are other possibilities but we’ll have them discussed before proceeding. Until then sir.”
    “Who was on the phone Yenax?” asked Rowan flatly. (Yay-nax)
    The secretary put down the phone. “Sir Scythe Vilkon, Mistress.”
    “What are the other informants and appointments tonight?” asked Manar.
    Yenax flicked open his Palm Pilot. “The other informants include Zero, Red Hyena, Koro, the Fox Brothers, Lord…”
    Everyone heard whispers. They were loud whispers, just like the ones in the dome chamber. A car bumped into theirs. The driver screeched their car to a halt. A blinding flash penetrated the car. No one could see. When it finally faded away, everyone was asleep.
    A group of people opened the door and took the limp Rowan.

The polished walls of the hall seemed cold, the lighting was dim. Dorania was relatively relaxed, sitting on a chair. Midiro was tensed and pacing about. After a while he poured himself some coffee. Manar stood still and gave them their report.
    “I could do nothing to prevent it as I, the other occupants of the car and the surveillance security were all knocked unconscious,” informed Manar.
    “In that case, I will hold a meeting,” decided Dorania calmly. “Manar, assemble every security contact, informant, representative and do we have any contacts with the Sorcerer’s Guild?”
    “No Lady.”
    “Then find me one.”
    “Shall I request a representative of Lord Winguard, my Lady?” enquired Manar.
    “Lord Winguard?” asked Dorania in puzzlement.
    “A Vampire Lord,” the bodyguard explained. “Mistress Rowan had initiated contact with him some time ago, although his prices for his assistance require…” Manar raised her eyebrow, “some tough negotiation to say the least.”
    Dorania thought about this in open amazement. “No,” she coolly finalised. “We will seek his assistance when it becomes necessary. You are dismissed.”
    Manar walked out of the hall in a stately fashion. Midiro put his cup of coffee on the serving table. He looked like he was about to break down.
    Dorania observed her husband. “I know you are worried about our daughter, as I am, which is why I am doing everything in my power to rescue her.”
    “And as soon as you do that, can I please reintroduce her to the Light Kingdom?” he almost begged.
    “And why would you want to do that?” his wife asked with genuine curiosity.
    “Why? WHY? She is in danger the entire time! As are you! But I can’t help you any more because you have created attachments and ties for yourself in the Dark Kingdom.”
    “And everything I have gained will be inherited by Rowan,” prophesied Dorania with certainty. “She has never been more suited for her fortune: she is very bright, as was demonstrated by her ability to find and negotiate with a Vampire.” This had been explained as if it was basic Science. She cocked her head. “Do you continue worrying about her future husband?”
    “Yes! I know you just enough to know you will find another Dark Citizen husband, who will keep her grass-rooted in that infested night of Demons and Auras!” A maid had just entered. She was dressed very smartly in a red shirt and black, knee-length skirt. She also had black tights and shoes. She was gathering the used cups and coffee pot on a tray. “And from what little you tell me, people with talent are targeted,” Midiro stressed.
    Dorania nodded. “The Dark Kingdom is in a constant power struggle.”
This only angered Midiro. “No! I am not talking to you any more, you never understand my problems and dismiss me like a trophy. Leria.” The maid looked at him blankly. “Summon Manar to my Bedroom. That’s where I’ll be if you want to talk to me Doriani…if ever.”
    As he marched out of the hall, Dorania stared at him in amazement.

Chapter List
©Ruth Amy Louise Hüneke 2008