Chapter Eleven
We don’t really talk about it as we travel to Magnysia. Not the kiss between me and Frederick, or the way Invictis interrupted us. I don’t bring up that dream or the conversation I had with Invictis inside that dream, and thankfully the asshole himself doesn’t bust into any more dreams the following nights.
There are things we all need to think about. I can say, though, it makes for long days when nobody wants to chat.
We make it out of Pylos relatively quickly. The closest labyrinth from where we are is the one in Magnysia, which means Frederick and I are going home, so to speak. We aren’t going to the castle, but we’ll be close enough.
The landscape turns from mountainous and craggy to flat, intense woodlands that drown out the sun’s rays. It’s eerie and creepy, not to mention dark even when the sun is out in full-force. The ground is covered in a thick moss instead of grass, whatever survives and thrives with hardly any light. The trees that dot the land are massive, bigger than any tree I’ve seen in my life back on earth. If one fell, an earthquake would follow.
We’re still a week or so away from Magnysia’s labyrinth, but now that we’re officially in a new region, I have to ask Frederick as we hike along: “Excited to be back in Magnysia?” I wouldn’t say things are weird between us, but things definitely haven’t been the same since the kiss.
And Invictis… there are entire days where he says not a single word.
“Honestly, I don’t have many memories from my time in the castle,” Frederick tells me, glancing at me as we continue along. “I was but a child when we were forced to leave. I vaguely remember a playroom with a mountain of toys, but that could just be a reoccurring dream.”
When I look at him strangely, he adds, “When I was young, of course. A reoccurring dream from when I was young.”
“Right,” I say.
He clears his throat. “I know we don’t have time now, but… in the future, I would very much like to take a trip to the castle and see it again.”
Memories of the day when I wandered through the castle while bleeding all over fill my mind. Half the castle is just gone, blasted away like a bomb went off when my mom lost it. I don’t know that there’s much Frederick can see, but who am I to tell him it isn’t worth it?
“We can,” I eventually say.
Remembering that day also brings back other memories, such as the blade of light Invictis used to stab me. A much cleaner, thinner wound than what I got from that magical guardian in Pylos’s labyrinth, which was the only reason I was able to go on for as long as I did. I guess it’s kind of a miracle I didn’t die that day.
I don’t know if the asshole can sense my thoughts, but I can feel Invictis staring at me. I dutifully ignore him.
Maybe my control on him is weakening or something. I mean, everything he said to me in that dream had to have been a lie, right? I don’t know what I’d do if it’s true and he… he wants more.
He wants me.
As it seems Frederick does, too.
I don’t get it. I don’t get it at all. I’m really nothing special, and right now, I don’t even deserve the title of a high empress. I’m just Rey, the girl I’ve always been. If these two have real feelings for me, it’s only because of a lack of other options or the fact that one is bound to me. That’s it. If there were a million other fish in the sea, would Frederick even look at me twice?
Not a good thought to have.
Time wears on. We keep traveling. We come across some small rodents that seem to be blight-free, and it gives me hope that when I bound Invictis to me, any animal that wasn’t too badly infected already reverted back to their natural state. Days pass, and the days turn into a week and a half.
I lead us through the forests of Magnysia with a weird sense of direction. It’s not something I could explain. I just know where to go, and that’s the only reason why I’m able to lead us directly to the labyrinth hidden in the region.
I’m the first to spot the stone door to the labyrinth. This time, it’s nestled in the trunk of one of the largest trees around, built beneath its roots, underground, days away from any main paths.
As we approach, Frederick speaks, “I am having a difficult time understanding how foreign agents—spies, I suppose—were able to land on Laconia’s shore and find each of these labyrinths on their own.” We stop five feet before the door.
It’s the same as the other, exactly so. Nothing carved in its face, nothing that would lead you to believe something incredible dwells behind it. As nondescript as a stone door can be, even if it is nestled inside a monster of a tree.
“Even if there were spies inside our kingdom for years, only the empresses knew about these labyrinths and the pieces of Invictis hiding within,” Frederick goes on, tapping his chin in a thoughtful gesture. “Even before the woes, it was dangerous for folk to wander too far off the main roads, so I doubt they were found by accident.”
I glance at Invictis. He stands ten feet away from us, staring off into the distance, zoning out. “Do you remember anything about the people who let you out twenty years ago? You know, before you killed them?”
With a shrug of his wide shoulders, he answers me, “They wanted revenge for a war they believed they lost centuries ago, and they wanted all life wiped out—which was not so different from my original purpose.”
Frederick frowns. “A war Laconia won centuries ago… one of the Contact Wars, perhaps? I admit I know little of the wars, they happened so long ago. I don’t even know what land they came from.”
“History is told by the victor,” Invictis mutters. “Laconia must have won, so decisively that they decided the war wasn’t worth remembering. Regardless, it matters not. Those men are dead, and you will find nothing of them but dust.”
To me, Frederick says, “Perhaps it doesn’t matter, but if they somehow knew of these labyrinths and what lied within, it makes me wonder what else they know that we don’t. Where did these people come from? How fanatical are they? Laconia has never been more vulnerable than it is now, especially with you—” He stops himself before he says it aloud: magicless .
“Laconia’s not completely defenseless,” I say. “If anyone attacked, I’d make Invictis do it.” As I say it, a loud groan is heard from the bastard himself, as if it’s the worst thing in the world to be forced to protect Laconia instead of wiping it out. “Speaking of which, open the doors for us and light the way, buddy.”
If Invictis could kill, he’d kill me right then. Or, you know, he’d try to. The look he gives me as he stalks toward the door, his wide shoulders slumped, is downright deadly. He easily heaves the stone doors open, and for the quickest of seconds, all we see is blackness inside. Magical orbs appear in the depths of the tree trunk, a yellowish-white, and we see it isn’t a straight hall like Pylos’s.
It’s a staircase that goes down, into the depths of the land.
“Mass-murdering, ancient evils first,” I say with a grin, and I grin even harder when Invictis groans and marches inside. Frederick is busy giving me a strange look, but I don’t pay much attention to it; instead, I follow Invictis inside.
The three of us head down a spiral stone staircase, our path lit by Invictis’s magic. I don’t know how far down we go, but it’s quite a while before the stairs let out into a long hall. My legs are going to kill me on the way back up.
We move through the straight hallway, stopping before another stone door. This one isn’t blank, much like the inner door in Pylos’s labyrinth. It contains an etching of something with wings: my guess the magical guardian lying within.
“It says the same as the other door,” Frederick says. “It seems each labyrinth is guarded, and to get to each inner chamber, we will have to prove ourselves.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we have Invictis,” I mutter. Although, if we didn’t have Invictis, maybe I’d still have my magic and I’d be able to handle these magical creatures on my own. Or maybe we’d all be dead. Who can say for sure? “He’s our attack dog.”
Invictis prickles. “I do not appreciate being called a dog. I am—”
I wave his words off. “Inevitable, incomprehensible, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I know. You’ve said the spiel a million times already, dude. Let’s just get in there and have you kick some ass.”
After letting out an explosive huff of a breath, Invictis pushes past the doors and struts into the underground arena with a swagger that no one could hope to match. Frederick and I are right behind him, although we stop just inside the large, circular, dome-like chamber and let him continue to the center.
Invictis’s magic lights up the large space, balls of light hovering in midair around the arena. It’s just as large as the first, the air just as stale, only with an earthier taste. The door to the innermost chamber, where a piece of Invictis was trapped for millennia, sits on the opposite side of the arena, magically sealed until we defeat whatever magical beast is here.
“The carving on the door looked almost like…” I trail off, the word refusing to come out.
And just like that, an unearthly roar splits the air. Invictis stands smackdab in the center of the arena, ready for whatever defense gets thrown at him. What we all expect is for the creature to pop out of the ground like the one in Pylos did; however, this one materializes in the air, mid-flight. Its path swoops down to Invictis as it tries to snap at him, but he avoids the red shimmery teeth easily.
Large, with two strong wings on its back, and a thick, spiked tail. An angular snout that houses teeth larger than my fingers. Although it glimmers due to being made of magic, it still throws me back in time and forces me to remember the woman I did not get to know nearly well enough before she died.
Before Invictis killed her.
My mom.
“It’s a dragon,” Frederick whispers, clearly in awe. “My word. She’s beautiful.” We watch the dragon fly in circles over the arena, and when it unleashes a breath of orange fire at Invictis, he actually chuckles in glee. “She’s inspiring. I wish we didn’t have to fight her so I could draw her.”
“The dragon’s not real,” I whisper.
“Oh, yes, I know that. It’s just… true dragons went extinct a long time ago. All anyone has seen are old pictures in books.” Frederick quiets as he tears his gaze away from the battle, off the dragon, and onto me. “Other than you, I suppose. Your mother… I’m sorry, Rey. This must be difficult for you.”
Shrugging once, I mutter, “It’s not harder than anything else.” Even though looking at the magical dragon makes me remember my mom, I have to watch.
The tattoos on Invictis’s arm glow, and he uses his magic to counter the dragon’s attacks. He moves faster than a human could, his reaction time worlds better. Watching him, it’s clear he was born to fight, made to be in the thick of battle. He never hesitates, and I swear, even though he’s far away, I see a smile on his face as he fights the labyrinth’s guardian. He summons a great ball of light above the dragon the moment it lands before him and brings it down like a comet crashing to the earth. The snarl of the dragon is all I can hear after that, the magical creature pissed the fuck off.
Frederick folds his arms over his chest as he watches beside me. “I must admit, he is impressive.”
It takes me a few seconds to realize what he said, and I have to tear my eyes off the fight and look at the man beside me, as if looking at him will make him repeat what he said. He doesn’t, though, which makes me say, “You called Invictis a he.”
“I don’t do it lightly. During our journey, I’ve spent a lot of time watching him, studying him. At the start, I wholeheartedly agreed with my father in thinking Invictis is only a weapon. But after watching him, after listening to him… after how furious he was when we—” Frederick coughs, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. “—kissed, I’m unfortunately forced to reckon with the fact that you were right all along.”
Don’t get me wrong. Just like anyone else, I love hearing I’m right. It strokes my ego in all the right ways. But at the same time, the reason behind Frederick’s changed opinion is not something I want to think about right now.
“A weapon doesn’t have emotions. I didn’t see it before. When you argued with my father over what he is, that you believed Invictis was a he and not an it, I didn’t want to believe you,” Frederick goes on. “But it’s clear to me now you were correct.”
My eyes return to the fight just in time to witness Invictis slam a dozen or more swords made of sparkling light into the dragon’s chest. The dragon is slowing down, but it’s not defeated yet. Unless I’m mistaken, he’s taking his time in the fight, relishing it, making it last because it’s the only fight he’ll get until we reach the last labyrinth.
“Be that as it may, I cannot forgive him for the things he’s done. He is the reason so much of Laconia is lost, why so many are now dead. He is behind my father’s imprisonment. He is ultimately the reason Prim is dead.”
“And my mom,” I whisper. “Trust me, Frederick, I can’t forgive him, either.” With my peripherals, I’m pretty sure Frederick is now staring at me and not the fight, but I’m kind of afraid to look at him.
“We’ve all lost something because of him. We can never forget that. If you were to unbind him now, he would annihilate us all.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I’ll never unbind him.”
“And that makes me worry about you even more. It hasn’t been that long, Rey, and he’s already acting as if he owns you, not the other way around. How long until you start to accept it? Until you don’t stop him from, say, tossing me off a cliff?”
That makes me turn toward him and promise him, “That would never happen. I would never let him hurt you or anyone else. I will never let him own me.” I’m a person. No one, not Invictis, not Frederick, not any dick that comes around, can ever own me.
Frederick sighs. “It’s not only Invictis I’ve been watching. I’ve watched you as well. In spite of all that he’s done, you let your guard down around him.”
I want to argue with him, tell him he’s wrong, but I can’t. As much as I hate Invictis, as much as I tell Frederick I’ll never let the bastard own me, I’m not blind. I know I feel things I shouldn’t—but the same can be said about Frederick, too. He might not be a killer, but we started off with him lying to me. And if, say, something did ever happen between me and Frederick, what Invictis said in my dream back in Pylos was right.
Frederick would get old and die and I wouldn’t age a day. Is that something I can handle?
“I only want what’s best for you,” Frederick whispers. “Nothing good can come from Invictis. You know that.”
As my gaze returns to the fight, I see Invictis launching himself in the air, above the dragon’s head. A sharp, spear-like weapon forms in his hands, and he brings it down upon the dragon, piercing its skull. The dragon freezes up, and then it collapses, slowly disintegrating into nothing, the magical guardian beaten.
Invictis’s feet land on the dirt the moment the dragon dissipates, and he wears a genuine smile. Not a smirk, a full-blown smile—but that smile is replaced by a frown the moment he glances at Frederick and me, as if he doesn’t want anyone else to see him smiling.
Frederick says not a word more as he makes a beeline toward the door on the opposite side of the arena. I wait a moment before hurrying to catch up to him. Invictis doesn’t wait for us; by the time we reach the center of the arena, he’s already waiting for us near it.
It sounded as though Frederick is worried I’ll forget Invictis is a monster, that I’ll someday be okay with him grabbing people by the neck and choking them when they try to show me any sort of physical affection. That won’t happen. I won’t let Invictis off the rails. He’s bound to me, and by God, he’s not going to drive me insane.
That’s the only reason why, once we reach the door and Invictis, I don’t make fun of Invictis for having such a good time battling that dragon. After a conversation like that, now isn’t the time for jokes.
I push past both men and open the innermost chamber, the first to step inside it. It’s a mirror image of the one in Pylos: a smaller circular room with a stone altar right in the center, where a perfectly-shaped box sits.
Frederick sets his bag down and pulls out a journal and a small piece of charcoal to take an etching of the markings on the altar. I stand a good ten or so feet from the altar, knowing I need to get closer to that box, but also remembering what happened the last time I touched a box like that.
I passed out.
Granted, I also had just lost a lot of blood, which I didn’t do this time, so the end result might not be the same. Still, it’s enough to give me pause.
I don’t need to look to know that Invictis stands beside me, and even though I shouldn’t say a word to him, I do: “It’s hard to imagine a piece of you was inside that box for centuries.” Longer than that, in all honesty. I don’t know how old Laconia is, but old enough that any trace of the great evil its first high empress fought is gone. “Do you know how long you were trapped?”
“No.” His answer comes quickly, and I can tell he doesn’t really want to talk about it.
Doesn’t matter. It’s something we should’ve discussed before, but it can wait until we’re out of this stale air and topside.
I move toward the altar, making sure to give enough space to Frederick so he can continue what he’s doing while I touch the box.
Frederick glances at me, noting my outstretched hand. “Rey, are you certain that’s—” The rest of what he says I don’t hear, mostly because my fingertips brush against the edge of the box and everything goes black.