The Devil's armour

40

That night, Jazana Carr found sleeping impossible. She had left the throne room shortly after meeting Thorin, leaving her underlings to deal with Count Onikil and his tedious reports. Instead of eating her midday meal with Rodrik, as was their custom, she had declined company entirely for the seclusion of her own chambers, where her body servant, Habran, massaged her skin and rubbed her feet with oil while she reclined in the enormous bathtub. Her chambers had once belonged to Ravel himself, and the bathtub was the same one the baron had killed himself in. At first Jazana had been repulsed by the place but soon Ravel’s lavish good taste had won her over, and she had learned to adore the opulent rooms. Tonight, she needed the comforting confines. There was much on her mind, much she had never expected to feel again. As Habran worked the aches out of her muscles, Jazana tried to quiet her troubles.

After her long bath Rodrik had come to see her, to tell her that he had found rooms for Thorin on the ground floor and had seen to all his needs. Her loyal bodyguard curbed his jealousy as best he could, but the taint of it burned in his expression. Refusing to speak further about Thorin, Jazana dismissed Rodrik for the night. Wearing only her sleep gown and robe, she went out onto the fabulous balcony with a cup of tea, dismissing the rest of her servants with orders not to disturb her. She remained on the balcony until very late, watching Andola drift off to sleep but unable to feel tired herself. An hour after she had finished her tea, she was still on the balcony, afraid to go to bed.

Thorin had surprised her. She had hoped he was alive, but had never guessed he would come to her again. He wanted peace; that much was clear. But did he want something else? She feared to hope it. Rodrik had been so good to her, so kind. He had struggled mightily to take Thorin’s place, but the task had been impossible and she had never deigned to take him to her bed.

Her bed had seemed so empty lately.

Jazana pulled the robe closer around her shoulders, staving off the chill. Spring had come with boldness, but the nights were still long and always bore a cool breeze. But Ravel had built a lovely hearth of polished stone in his bedchamber and her servants had already lit a fire there for her. She had seen them sneaking in and out to tend to it, sure that she would want it when ready.

Good pay makes good servants, thought Jazana as she left the balcony. It was almost midnight and tomorrow would be an important day. Wanting to be fresh for her talk with Thorin, she went into her bedchamber, disrobed, and slid into the fabulously soft sheets.

Jazana slept.

As the hours ticked towards dawn, the fire in her hearth died to a warm glow. Comfortable in Ravel’s enormous bed, Jazana dreamed of Norvor and her younger days. She did not sleep soundly, but rather danced on the edges of sleep, her mind actively mulling mental pictures. She had lost all sense of time but was dimly aware of the fire’s crackle. Sounds reached her ears as if from a great distance, familiar and of no concern.

Until she heard a sound she did not recognise.

Her eyelids fluttered heavily. Her mind worked on the noise. A scraping sound, like boots on stone. Footfalls. .

Jazana awakened and sat up in her bed. Shadows painted the enormous room. Moonbeams through her window made yawning images on the walls. Jazana looked around, her eyes darting toward the doorway. She saw a shadow there and stared at it, her heart racing. Vaguely like a man, she could not quite tell in the darkness if it moved or stayed still. Then, the sound of nervous breathing reached her.

Amazingly, she grew less alarmed. The man in the doorway stared. A fabulous darkness sparkled off his left arm, encased in a metal that swallowed all light. In her half-awake state Jazana thought she might yet be dreaming.

‘Thorin. .’

Like a wraith he floated closer, stepping into the moonlight. He had doffed his armour but for the arm that flashed in brilliant black. She caught his expression in the light, an anguished mix of pain and lust. His eyes flared with hunger, revealing a soul that wasn’t his. Jazana gasped. She should scream, she knew, but did not. Too enthralled with the impossible sight, she let Thorin drift ever closer.

‘Jazana.’

The voice was his, and yet was not. Like his face, it seemed possessed. He came to her bedside and hovered there, dropping a knee onto the sheets and leaning toward her.

‘I’ve come for you,’ he whispered. ‘I cannot be without you tonight.’

Jazana barely breathed. ‘Thorin, you should not have come.’ It made no sense to her suddenly. How could he have made it to her bedroom? ‘Have you come just for this? Just for me?’

‘I came to. .’ His face twisted in a grimace of pain. ‘No,’ he struggled. He reached out for her. ‘I need to touch you.’

It was his armoured arm that reached for her. His missing arm. Jazana gasped.

‘Your arm! Thorin, what has happened to you?’

‘Shh,’ he urged gently. ‘Don’t speak.’ The black gauntlet reached out to brush her cheek. ‘Let me touch you.’

Never had Jazana felt anything so cold. Or was it burning hot? Her skin trembled at the touch of the odd metal. It melted her.

‘Thorin,’ she whispered, ‘what has happened to you?’

Thorin stalked onto her bed. ‘I need to be a man again. I have not been a man in so long.’

The metal arm pulled her closer. Jazana succumbed to it, bending her head for him as his hungry mouth found her neck. His lips suckled her, tasting her skin and moaning with its sweetness. Jazana’s head swam with a strange intoxication. This was not the spell of sleep, she knew, but a wondrous thing that sang in her mind and bent her to his will. As his desperate hands found her breasts Jazana could no longer speak. Her mouth moved wordlessly as he tore her nightgown open and fell upon her.

Somehow, throughout the thrusting and glorious release, Jazana knew it was more than lovemaking. In the black fog that wrapped her, she saw visions.

It was not until dawn that the fever lifted.

Thorin’s groggy mind came awake to the sense of sunlight through the window. His skull throbbed. Sheets tangled his naked body. Sprawled across his right arm was Jazana, just as nude, her ruined nightgown clinging to her in shreds. He felt her breathing and knew she was dully awake, struggling through the same magic mist that clogged his own brain. Her face glanced up at the ceiling, barely visible in the dim light of morning. She did not speak, but seemed to sense his wakefulness. Her head rested in exhaustion on a pillow, its silk casing torn by the spikes of his armoured arm. Duck feathers spilled across the bed.

They lay there, naked with each other, and were silent.

The possession that had taken Thorin had faded. The sated Kahldris now rested easily in his mind. Thorin could sense the demon’s satisfaction. For a night, he had been a man again, and in his lust had shown Thorin a truer meaning of life and power. It was as if Thorin had drunk from the cleanest water or had breathed the freshest air. He was changed now and he knew it, and was not at all sorry that Kahldris had swallowed him.

Why, he wondered, did it all seem so clear now?

Unbridled, his lust for Jazana had been a magnificent thing. He had seen what he wanted and had taken it. There could be no stopping him, he realised. That was the lesson Kahldris had shown him.

Yes, came the Akari’s voice. There is no reason to stop, Baron Glass.

Thorin could not answer. The unearthly lovemaking had weakened him, but he was blissful and did not care. Kahldris was too much a part of him now. He welcomed the being’s touch. Slowly he turned his head toward Jazana. Her tousled hair looked beautiful. Her perfect skin, not stretched by childbirth, shone milky white in the sunlight. With his armoured hand he touched her, caressing her smooth belly. A whimper drifted from her lips.

‘Why, Thorin?’

Thorin smiled, but how could he answer such a thing?

‘What happened to you?’ Jazana whispered. ‘To us?’

‘Magic, my love.’

She nodded. ‘Magic. .’

‘Akari magic.’ Thorin propped himself up to look at her. ‘This armour makes me more than a man, Jazana.’ He opened the palm of his gauntlet and placed it down on her belly. ‘Do you feel it?’

‘It’s alive,’ Jazana said. ‘I felt it inside me. It was. . amazing.’

Thorin smiled. ‘Do not fear it, Jazana. I feared it once, but no longer. It has made me whole again, and brought me back to you.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Jazana desperately. ‘Just yesterday-’

‘Yesterday I was different. A fool. The armour has shown the truth to me.’

Jazana’s expression betrayed her fear. ‘Thorin, this armour has done something to you. You are different, even this morning.’

‘I am different,’ Thorin declared. ‘I am better.’

‘Because of me? Because of what we did?’

Was that it, Thorin wondered? What had their lovemaking loosed? He was one with Kahldris now. Was this how all Inhumans felt? He could not say for certain, and Kahldris would not help him with the puzzle. Thorin leaned back against the headboard and let out a lionlike sigh. His eyelids grew heavy again as he tasted the delicious power. For the first time in weeks he saw Kahldris standing in front of him.

She loves you, Baron Glass.

Thorin nodded. Jazana looked at him curiously.

‘He is here with us,’ he told her.

‘Who is?’

‘Kahldris. The maker of the armour. The one.’

‘Thorin, you’re scaring me. .’

‘Don’t be afraid,’ said Thorin with a grin. ‘Nothing can harm you now, Jazana. We are invincible.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Jazana. She sat up and looked about the room but of course saw nothing. ‘Are you staying with me, Thorin? Tell me this is not all some cruel lie. Tell me you are mine again.’

‘With you, with Kahldris, yes,’ said Thorin.

The Akari, in his own ethereal Devil’s Armour, hovered over the bed. Liiria, Baron Glass. That, too, is yours.

‘Liiria,’ Thorin whispered.

Jazana smiled and touched his face. ‘No, Thorin, hush,’ she purred. ‘Do not worry over Liiria. It is over now. You are back; that’s all I wanted.’

She is lying, said Kahldris. She wants Liiria still.

Confused, Thorin tried to blink away the fog. But Kahldris’ words seemed true to him, and he knew Jazana’s ambitions were not so easily satisfied.

‘You wanted Liiria,’ he said. ‘I know you did. Why?’

Jazana shied from the question. ‘It does not matter. I wanted my revenge on you, to bring you back to me.’

‘And you wanted Liiria — I know you did, Jazana. To be powerful?’

Her expression grew stormy. ‘To prove my worth. Not just to you but to everyone. Look what I’ve accomplished, Thorin. Norvor is mine now, when everyone said it could never be.’

Kahldris nodded his armoured head. She is rich, Baron Glass. She has the means to take it for you.

‘And Koth?’ questioned Thorin. ‘What of that?’

Jazana shrugged as if embarrassed to answer. ‘The library. The machine. It was all too much to refuse. The library has much knowledge, Thorin. It would have made me even richer.’

Machine?

‘It would be of no use to you, Jazana,’ said Thorin, remembering the remarkable catalogue machine Gilwyn had told him about. A thinking machine of sorts, holding bits of information from across the world. ‘No one can operate it, just the man who built it and he’s dead.’ Then he shrugged. ‘Perhaps the boy who was in Jador with me can run it, but. .’

‘Gilwyn Toms. I have not forgotten him, Thorin.’ Jazana wrestled with the sheets, pulling them over her bosom. ‘And Lukien? What of him?’

The machine, Baron Glass, Kahldris pressed. What is this thing?

Thorin ignored the Akari. ‘Lukien is well,’ he said simply. There seemed no reason to confess the knight was pursuing him, at least not yet. ‘He remains across the desert. Jazana, I still want Liiria.’

The queen’s eyes widened. ‘What?’

‘Liiria is in chaos, and I came across the continent to save her. We can do it together.’

‘Thorin-’

‘Liiria needs a leader, Jazana. And not a man like Breck. She needs someone strong, like me. Someone that cannot be beaten.’ Thorin took her hand. ‘Liiria can be ours. Norvor, too.’

Jazana blanched, staring in disbelief. ‘But the library defenders. .’

‘They will accept us or fight us,’ said Thorin. ‘And if they fight us, they will die.’

‘Die? Thorin, these men were your allies. What has happened to you?’

Why was she looking at him so? Thorin grunted in frustration.

‘I have changed, Jazana. I am stronger now and I will have this madness no longer! Akeela ruined Liiria, and I must make it whole again. Who else can make this happen? Not even you could do such a thing, not without my help. It must be me. The Great Fate has decreed it.’

Fear charged Jazana’s expression. She watched Thorin for a long time. ‘Thorin,’ she said finally, ‘I have longed for you to return. I haven’t admitted it to anyone. .’

‘I’m back now, Jazana. We can be together again.’

‘But this thing you wish to do — you were never that man. Thorin, I am afraid of you.’

In another time, her words might have broken his heart. Now, though, his heart was stronger and impervious to pain. He reached out and pulled her close, putting her head on his chest and stroking her long hair.

‘Do not ever be afraid of me, Jazana,’ he said gently. ‘I am so much better than I was. I see things clearly now.’