Blood Solstice: Part Three in the Tale of Lunarmorte Read Free

he
envisioned. He preached that they, as supernaturals with their
blessed gifts, should be protecting the humans’ fragile existence
in gratitude for what the gods had given them. After all, humans
were the children of the gods just as much as they themselves were.
All this Kirios had known, had appreciated, but it was only now
under this magik’s spellbinding presence he began to see that he
was just as culpable as those who hunted humans, for he had the
power to hunt the hunters, protect the hunted, to give back to the
gods… and he had not been doing so.
     
    ***
    Tyras, 377 B.C.
     
    “ Galen?”
    No answer.
    “ Galen?”
    He was catatonic. Kirios glanced anxiously around at the
others. His friend, the magik Agamemnon, shook his head sadly.
“What has happened?” Kirios demanded.
    “ Parthenia is dead.”
    Kirios stumbled back. Oh Gaia, no. How could Galen bear
it?
    Eneas.
    At the acceleration of his heart, Kirios rushed from the
entrance hall, throughout the grounds, his speed knocking over
ornaments and fripperies as he went. How had these last fourteen
years come to this?
    After struggling with his anger he had finally settled into
his life as Galen’s man, hunting supernatural predators. It hadn’t
taken him long to fall easily into the way of life, to make friends
into family, for Galen to become like a father. It had taken thirty
years to unbend towards Eneas. And now… now sixty years on and
Eneas was like a brother. How could it be possible that he had
betrayed Galen, betrayed them all? In truth, Kirios would say it
had all begun fourteen years before when Galen had fallen in love
with a human girl, Kleisthenes. They had married, had children. She
had been completely aware of who and what they all were, and that
their children would have magikal gifts. For the closest of them,
they had been comfortable in her presence. There had been others,
however, who had a difficult time with Kleisthenes. Kirios blanched
remembering his friend, a vampyre, who had confessed to be dreaming
of Kleisthenes each night, dreaming of drinking her blood until his
obsession was sated. Sadly, he could not be counselled through it,
and when he attacked her it was Kirios who had saved her, and
Kirios who had been chosen to execute his friend. Soon after, the
household of supernaturals began to dwindle, until only Eneas and
Kirios remained amongst the magiks and faeries. Only a few years
after the incident, Galen had come to Kirios in confidence,
revealing fears that his wife was having an affair. Kirios could
not believe it of Kleisthenes, but had promised to investigate
Galen’s suspicions. He felt sick as the vision of her lovely figure
posed so elegantly in her bedchamber flashed before his eyes, blood
soaking the bed coverings, a gaping hole in her chest where her
heart had been savagely cut out. They found Kleisthenes murdered
the very day after Galen had come to him. The household had been
devastated, Kirios also, but he had gladly assumed the task he and
Eneas were charged with – to find the culprit and bring him to
Galen alive.
    For a number of days the trail had been cold, until one
evening Galen’s eldest daughter came to Kirios’ room with
Kleisthenes’ journal. Parthenia had claimed she knew who had
murdered her mother and urged Kirios to read the pages.
    Eneas.
    He had been the one carrying on the affair with Kleisthenes…
it was fair to assume he had been the one to silence her. Kirios
had made Parthenia promise not to tell anyone until he had found
Eneas and the truth out for himself. It had been this very night
Kirios had set out to catch up with him where he was questioning
townspeople. But Kirios was dragged back to the house by a
messenger with urgent news.
    Parthenia.
    Hades, Eneas! Kirios crashed into the bedchamber with hopes of
finding the journal pieces. He stopped abruptly, instantly sensing
his room had been disturbed. That’s when he felt the cold press of
the blade to his throat and the heat of