Chapter Fifty-Two
“ I knew it.” He looks me up and down with hungry eyes as if seeing me for the first time.
My concentration breaks the moment he says something.
He knew.
Just like Avicii said.
And for just long enough I lose my connection to my power. I grab at it, but the threads fall through my grasp and the king recovers before I do. He draws his long sword and Killian follows suit. He stands, weapon at the ready. “You’re one of them,” he spits out, disgust sharpening each word. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
“I am what you think I am,” I answer simply. He has a mind for strategy, but how quickly can he work out the entirety of the truth.
He lunges, striking so hard. I have to block with both hands, both sword and dagger crossed, the vibrations reverberating up my arms. “I thought I weeded all of you out so carefully. But even my own wife betrays me.”
He still thinks it is Tristana. My mind reels. Everything snaps into place. He’s punished Tristana all this time for a betrayal she did not commit. He knows pieces, but it doesn’t make sense.
“But Licia and I are twins,” I say, searching for a thread to his logic.
“I don’t know what dark magic is at play here, but she is clearly mine.” Licia's strong nose, the one she shares with both Killian and Father, flashes through my mind. “You, on the other hand, have never measured up. You don’t look like me, you’ve never shared any of the same interests, and you spend too much time in your own head to notice what’s happening in the real world.”
Well, that’s because when I stop to notice what’s happening around me, my own father tries to cut me down and my whole world falls apart, starting with Avicii. His hands flash through my mind. His hands on me. The memories I’ve tried so hard to forget, resurface in a flood.
“Your magic is in there. Show me what you can do.” His grip is tight. Too tight. My wrists will snap if his vice grip gets any tighter. My basket of vegetables and bouquet of flowers lie askew and forgotten. The cry that escapes my lips is too much. Instantly, I try to muffle the sound with a cough. But only another sob escapes. He throws me to the ground.
The words under his breath are almost inaudible but I catch a few. I can’t possibly have heard him correct. “He said this was going to be a challenge… The magic should manifest if she’s pushed hard enough…”
The bloodline. That’s all that mattered, right? Continuing the royal bloodline, showing the strength to reproduce more royals, despite my being last in line, that was always the goal. That’s why we’re so out of the way. The farthest point north and east in Merula makes it easier for him to travel and return home. This is how we got to see each other between his travels.
But other pieces move into place. The random anger, the threats, the surprises. He thought if I was pushed, some kind of magic would manifest ?
Something snaps in my mind. Or snaps into place. This is too much. I can’t keep going like this. I will not survive. His anger and his flip-flopping emotions will be the death of me. To feel so loved one moment and discarded the next is exhausting— always on guard.
While he paces beside me, his shadow looms over my place in the dirt, light poking through each time he passes. The thought gives me pause.
There’s light where he is not. How can I grow, how will I thrive if he’s always blocking my light? As the dangerous thought crosses my mind, there’s movement beside me.
Vines.
But not from my garden, nothing I’ve ever grown has ever been nearly as thick around. It’s as wide as a zucchini left a day or two past it’s picking day.
But I recognize it. There’s something familiar about it. A part of me.
It’s a part of me.
It pauses as these thoughts grow into my consciousness. As if before there was an unknown part of me that could reach out and connect. Something I didn’t, or hadn’t wanted to, pick up on until now.
Avicii’s right. I look back to him as the realization dawns, but he’s still pacing, muttering to himself. I try not to hear any of his words. When he gets like this, it always gets worse before it gets better.
But this time, it’ll be different.
I can’t take the storm before the calm. It’s not worth it.
Strewn all around me are the vegetables. Only vegetables. What will I do, peg him with eggplant when he comes too close?
And then I remember my tools. I look around, but they’re nowhere in sight. Where did they land? The basket. Avicii placed them in the basket before we started off.
It’s an arm’s length out of my reach. There’s no way I can get there and grab the tools before he figures out my intentions.
Just as I’m settling in to withstand another verbal lashing, hoping he’ll be satisfied to leave it at that, the same vine moves again. And this time, I mentally cheer it along as it creeps closer toward Avicii’s feet, only moving when his back is to us.
I wish and hope with all my might that it’ll wrap itself around him. If it could just hold him long enough, I’d have time to grab the tools.
And then it does.
Just as Avicii takes notice and tries to kick it out of the way, it strikes. With the speed of a snake, it coils itself around his ankles, up his knees, and over his thighs. As soon as he’s taken by surprise, more vines appear growing quickly toward the first, grabbing arms and wrapping tight around his neck.
He’s quickly thrown off balance, the vines causing him to fall to the ground, nothing to soften his landing. A cloud of dust swallows him for just a moment. But when it clears, he’s staring directly at me. Not in fear, though.
His eyes are two daggers pointed straight at me. He struggles against the vines, but they only tighten around him in response.
“You are Fae.” The smile he gives me will haunt me to my dying day. In it, I see all Hadeon promised him if he could break me. I see what he imagines my future to be and what riches and titles will rain down upon him because of it all.
A shudder runs through me at the calculation in that one look. It throws me into motion. I don’t have much time. I don’t know how long his living manacles will hold. I move as if the wind has filled my sails. In one movement, I fall upon my basket, the sheers resting just where I thought they’d be. And then I’m in front of Avicii .
I have to get on his level. One last time.
The ground is unforgiving and I swallow the pain in my knees, knowing it’ll be the last time he’s ever able to inflict such pain on me. On anyone.
“You better cut me out of here. This isn’t how you’re supposed to use your magic, Rowandine.” He twists and struggles against his captor. “Get it off me!” He spits venom with each word. But as I bring the open sheers to his chest and aim one point just above his heart, his tune changes. “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t kill me! This isn’t how it works. Put that down, Rowandine. We can talk about this.”
My resolve waivers. He’s never wanted to talk before.
“We can visit the castle.” His voice rises as I hold the blade steady, weighing his words. “I’ll take you with me on my next assignment!” Tears stream down his face and his eyes flick from the blade resting on his skin to my face.
The anger is still there, I can hear it just below the surface. He won’t fool me this time. It's always temporary. His anger always wins out. And I always lose.
I lean into the sheers, allowing the tip to puncture his skin while the other side of the open blade presses into my palm.
The odd thought flits through my mind that this isn’t like cutting into a vegetable. Not even a potato. There’s so much resistance.
Avicii’s eyes widen as my intent becomes clear—my mind is made up.
He continues making promises and threats, switching between the two, but his words fade into a gentle hum.
The hum of a bee.
This bee won’t sting again.
I put all of my weight behind the sheers. I focus on the way they cut into me as well, there’s no handle here, so my left hand grips only the blade. I breathe through the pain as blood blooms from under my palms. It doesn’t matter, though. I’m almost there, almost through.
He lunges again, the quick movement and proximity shaking me from my memory. One I’ve pushed into the darkest recesses of my mind until now.
I’d forgotten. He knew. Hadeon and Avicii knew. Avicii tried to make me see, tried to force what’s on the inside, out.
Hadeon’s strike doesn’t give me time to recover. My dagger flies from my hand with a hasty perry, leaving only my sword.
Killian tracks the volleys with both his eyes and his sword flicking between us. He’s even more surprised than Hadeon, and more unsure of how to respond. He presses in, attempting to aid his father, but Hadeon pushes him off and he slides backward.
“No dark magic had a hand here, except your own.” I try to wait him out, buying more time as I shake off the remains of that memory while simultaneously pulling the slim threads of my magic. The small roots I’ve put down have all but withered up since earlier this morning.
“You little brat.” His swipes are furious and wild. “You’ve always been a brat. And even worse now, a half-Fae brat! You’ll die, here and now. There are no remaining Fae.”
“You don’t know, do you?” I blow out a deep breath as I strike and spin to the side already knowing where he’ll strike next. I shouldn’t have said anything. Fear flashes in his eyes before the fury returns. But it was there, a brief hesitation.
Which does he want more, the information I have or my death ?
I pull once more and a great surge of power rushes toward me. The sound deafening as the marble floor surrounding us bends and cracks. Great horned vines of the deepest green surface through the wreckage, curling over themselves. They slither around Hadeon and Killian’s feet, waiting for permission to strike.
Both Hadeon and Killian begin hacking at the vines closest to them. And I can feel each strike like a small cut across my own skin. I try to pull the vines back, and they listen, moving out toward the periphery of the room, but so much damage is done and my body aches as if their swords struck at me.
“What’s happening?” Killian looks to his father. “Roe is part Fae?” The last word sounds like a curse as it crosses his lips. He looks at the vines, still climbing across the room and then disdainfully at me. “ You are doing this?”
The pain lashes through me as they continue to strike with their swords and the vines recoil, returning to where they came from. Instead of answering Killian’s question, I try to hold on, but I can’t hold the power through all the pain. Doubt rushes through me. I’m not strong enough on my own to take him on. I look down, expecting to see all the cuts they’ve made on the vines reflected on me. But my skin is clear from any marring. Or at least no worse for the wear than it was before the vines. So, it’s just that I can feel their pain?
“You foolish child.” Hadeon sees the panic and doubt cross my face as the vines retreat further. “You have no idea what you’re doing. Your handful of weeds will do nothing.” He stomps on a vine as it slithers too close to him. I try to hide my wince, but I’m not sure I cover it with my step toward them. The vine, lifeless and left forgotten, sprawls out against the white marble. The red, pointed petals leak from it like blood.
“Perhaps not.” Sword in hand, I wipe my nose. It comes away bloodied. The pain and the power are too much. My body feels too heavy for itself, but I continue to perry against each of Hadeon’s blows, thankful Killian still hasn’t joined the fight but I know my moments to strike are limited. “But Everguard can't go on like this. We’ll crumble in your hands.”
“Ha!” He slashes across my body, grazing my belly with his blade. A hiss escapes my lips as the sting sets in. “And you’d do better? You wouldn’t know the first thing about ruling a city, much less an entire realm. Why do you think it was so easy to sell you off to the highest bidder? Now though, knowing what you truly are, you are worth nothing to me.”
“It’s in my blood,” is all the answer I can voice before he strikes a fatal blow. His sword comes too fast, the blade moving in slow motion as the realization creeps in there’s no time to move out of its striking arch. I try to bring my hands up to protect my throat, but I’m not fast enough.