Page 64 of Kingdoms of Night

OF WEREWOLVES AND WITCHES

ENCHANTED REALMS BOOK ONE

MIRANDA HONFLEUR

CHAPTERONE

IDALNO

Idalno kept her chin high as the brilliant summer sun beat down on the back of her head amidst the great outdoor celebration.No crying. Even if the mask covered half her face.

No shame. Even if everyone knew the truth.

Her aunt, the Master of Venom and Poison, ushered her cousin Selnon up between the great burning braziers onto the blue clay platform, where the highest of honors was given. She kissed him on the cheeks and on the forehead, marked his brow with the black powder and holy oil, adorned him in the shining, black-feathered cloak and the expressionless well-oiled mask, and then blessed him for all to see.

A good day. A beautiful day. A day destined for him no matter how much he’d fought it.

No matter how much she had done to prove herself worthy of this role instead.

She drew in a slow breath, willing back the tears that burned behind her eyes.

Nature itself had erupted to celebrate. The orange-and-yellow-tipped sweetgrass bloomed three weeks early, surrounding the outdoor assembly in fiery colors with the occasional explosion of proud blue and purple coneflowers. The great bowl of the sky was the purest azure without even a trace of clouds to mar it. An artist couldn't have chosen a better palette.

Everyone from Ehecatl and beyond was here, mingling among the banquet table. The tables practically bent beneath the load of decadent dishes from the sweet spiced honey pila rolls and savory moon-shaped empanadas filling the large round bowls at the end of each table to the colorful ceramic dishes filled with buttery maize with green onions or white clams marinated in vinegar with savory black olives. Joints of venison basted and roasted sat in the center of two of the tables, the attendants already carving them up with double-sided knives. Poblano chiles, grilled and seared until their skins cracked, were nestled among marinated button mushrooms and slow-roasted pheasant. All that and so much more. Yet she had no appetite.

Everyone here was dressed in their finest colorfully embroidered silks, dark hair gleaming with oils, bodies rich with spicy perfumes and woody colognes. They had all assembled here to celebrate the new Master of Venom and Poison.

And it was not her.

She would get through this. She remained as much on the outskirts as possible and only a few minutes away from making her full escape. Colorful L-shaped friezes framed the feasting and dancing areas, brightly painted and depicting all manner of creatures, from boldly spotted jaguars and vicious fangedcabizamonsters to black-clawed velociraptors and venomous-feathered peacocks.

As a child, she had loved to climb up those red-topped half walls and run their fifty-foot length with her cousins, at least until someone scolded her for setting a bad example or someone fell off and bloodied a knee. Usually Selnon. Then she’d get in trouble. He was the reason she’d gotten in trouble a lot, really.

A few of her tears spilled over, sliding along her cheeks and the inside of her wooden half-mask. A quick dash of her hand eliminated all evidence.

Selnon, quiet-mannered and pacifist-hearted, had fled this calling twice, but he now stood at the center of the gathering, accepting congratulations and probably wishing he was anywhere but here. At least all the attention was on him, and that would make it easier for her to slip back, step by step, away from the crowd and toward the forest of evergreen oaks and their dark-green oval leaves. Only a few minutes more and she could disappear entirely.

Some kinder part of her might have pitied him. He didn't want this, for some reason, and he'd been willing to pass it on to her. If only things had been that simple.

She slipped her hand beneath the tasseled shawl and rubbed her arm. The wolves, jaguars, serpents, spiders, butterflies, and eagles that coiled over both arms in black, green, and blue ink now mocked her. Their dark eyes condemned her. Even though they were covered now and probably forever. It had been premature to get the markings.

The way her aunt had looked at her when she’d seen those tattoos… The questions. The frustration. The shock.

Of course, knowing now that it was all fate and there had never been any real chance for her, she knew why her aunt had looked at her that way. But why couldn’t her aunt have been honest with her from the start? No one had ever said,No, Idalno, this is a position you cannot earn no matter how much you want it or how hard you work.

And now she’d have to run, without anyone sending her off, no one to even say,To all you’re seeking.

Less than an arm’s length away, the nearest frieze vividly depicted powerful jaguars running over the treetops and swatting down arboreal crocodiles and titanoboas. How appropriate that they all seemed to be running away from her.

A small hand tugged at her black-and-blue-embroidered skirt.

Oh no. She didn't even have to look to know which one of her cousins it was. While all the other children would be playing or clustering around the tables sagging with all kinds of candies, meats, and nuts, there was one who almost always seemed to know if someone was in distress. No matter how inconvenient.

She glanced down.

There she was. Lalko. One of her younger cousins, little more than seven and small for her age but wise for her years.

Lalko wore a new dress with bright purple embroidery on the bodice and skirt, with matching purple ribbons in her hair. She lifted her arms expectantly, and Idalno picked her up.

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