Potenkiah, the deathgiver

Chapter 1.1

“I’ll tell mother you did it,” threatened the redhead, pointing with his finger.

Kev felt confident: compared to his own, the boy’s footprints were tiny; about a third of his. His mistress would not believe the lie. However, he suspected that it was too early to claim victory. Aside from being mischievous, headstrong and clever, the countess’ son was vengeful and more cunning than should be expected from an infant of three beltas.

And he had not gotten a double serving of dessert, as he had demanded.

The scathing smile the brat gave him was as beautiful as it was perverse. Kev shuddered.

“Mommy!” He suddenly backed up, without taking his eyes off the man, towards the second floor balcony. “Mommy!”

He took off into the house’s interior garden. Halfway through the courtyard he gathered his courage, closed his eyes, folded his scarlet wings, and let himself fall to the grass, twenty feet below.

“Son of a bird!” cursed Kev, ruffling his feathers.

Horrified, he ran after the child with such haste that he failed to notice he had destroyed any evidence that could save him, until he felt the collectible egg’s remains crunch under his feet.

The boy ended up tangled in the bushes, with enough bruises to render the countess blind and deaf to any possible explanation. Neither her, nor anyone else would believe him if he said the child had plummeted to the courtyard on purpose. It was almost as unbelievable as if he had held his own breath until death. Besides, it was too late.

“Nickie!” The mother arrived at the garden at that moment, ran to the boy, and held him to her chest.

How moving, thought the servant, landing a few steps away. He knew what was about to happen: he would be fired and the brat would get away unscathed again. He had already done it to Dival and Karla, and those were just the most recent cases he could remember. The little vulture was a master manipulator.

“What happened, skyling?”

He did not even have to fake his wailing, he was in enough pain. He simply pointed at the servant with a grimy finger, and with that innocent gesture sealed his fate.

“Elazar!” cried the countess. “Fire Kev, I don’t want him in the house for another minute!”

“Don’t bother, my Lady.” Kev allowed his arms to hang and required all of his self-control to stop himself from openly cursing. “I was about to resign anyway.”

He turned around and left. Later that night he would return to charge whatever seemed fair. And he would pay a special visit to the redhead’s room. For himself, for Dival and for Karla.