Chapter 19 #2
My fire magic dances up my spine, warming me, eagerly waiting to defend me. Something more dangerous awakens. The time-weaving. My chest widens as I fight to suppress it. Not now! Please!
“I remember their faces. In particular, a young boy,” he continues.
I smell his morning blood on his warm breath.
“At the time, I didn’t know he was a prince.
He was just a boy with pointed ears, but as you said, all I saw was a boy who sought me out; it made no difference that he was fae.
I didn’t know he would grow into a man who was destined to wear an enemy crown. ”
“Everett,” I whisper. Shock defeats me. My knees tremble; the time-weaving surrenders to my pleas and sinks away.
He uses his magic to nudge me closer. “I had to know where you stood. After all, you killed Everett.” His eyes grow distant. “I got a feeling our pointy-eared friend didn’t give you a choice. I didn’t get one either.”
Footsteps sound, another group approaches the breakfast hall. My skin burns. He peels his air magic back with a force that leaves a cooling burn over my exposed skin.
“I just want you to know you have friends here, Titus.” He winks and begins to turn.
Yeah, not happening. I grab him and drag him further down another corridor. “You’d better start speaking.”
“I’ve spoken a lot; I’m much more conversational with my sword.”
I try and fail to shove him into the wall. Are his feet roots? “You knew him,” I hiss. My fingers curl into his leather.
“I knew him,” he agrees in a solemn tone. “He looked a mere sixteen years old, but he spoke as if he possessed the sands of time. That boy said such funny things. Didn’t believe him. Marked him off as bonkers. Turns out I was crazy not to listen. Everything Everett told me has come to pass.”
My grip drains of rage and possesses a vagrant. “Tell me,” I plead.
He covers my hands as a father would, peeling my fingers back and cradling them. “I made a vow to Everett. Don’t ask me to break it. I just wanted you to know that your back is covered. Let things unfold as they should. You’ll hear from me again, Titus.” He steps to the side.
“Covered for what?”
His stare makes me feel like a silly boy who cried when he fell. His eyes urge me to get back up and conquer what anguished me. “Breakfast is getting cold. You’d best drink up; keep your magic charged here.”
He winks, turns, and leaves before I can reply.
I fall against the wall like a brick no longer needed. My ass hits the floor, and the back of my head smacks against the pillar. All I see is polished black stone reflecting my face in shades of darkness. No guiding light.
How many more spies did Everett make? How many slumber within Galen’s walls?
Tristen appears, stopping at the entrance of the corridor. “I thought I sensed you here,” he declares. His smile drops when he spots me.
He covers us in his shadows, then I whisper what happened.
“I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Tristen mutters, legs kicked out wide, faking confidence for my sake.
“It’s treason,” I bite out with a shake of my head.
“This is my fault. I was the one who suggested that we come here. Maybe we should leave.” He watches me closely, waiting for me to admit what is happening between Selene and me. We’re both too terrified to admit the truth, so we keep poking it.
“Running away from a problem doesn’t fix it.”
Tristen nudges me. “Are you sure about that? Nero and I got away with a lot of shit as teens.”
“No, you didn’t; Ryker and I cleaned it up.”
“Those were the good times.” He whistles. “Come on, let’s eat and focus on the biggest problem we have which, by the way, you controlled your time-weaving. That’s great.” Tristen stands, extending his hand and pulling me up.
“Controlled is a big word. I think when he mentioned Everett, the time magic grew calm. It was odd.”
He drags me toward the hall. “It’s still something to be happy about. Speaking of the fam, I’m gonna send a message to them, see how they’re doing. The mail goes out this afternoon. Want me to add anything from you?”
You can peer at me for hours. I refuse to tell you what I fear is happening, Tris. I’ll handle it. I always do.
“Just tell them everything is good.” I swing the door open. My cheeks grow red from the heat of the kitchen. The scent of oven-baked meats fans out. But now I’m not hungry.
“Your definition of good scares the shit out of me,” Tristen replies warily.
“General!” I flinch. “Just the man I was looking for. Come.” King Galen strides down the hall, waving me over.
The soldiers cafeteria is within easy walking distance of his dining room.
It’s not so he can eat with his soldiers on rare occasions.
The location was strategic, ensuring his men were nearby if needed.
The shine of his leather causes my eyes to squint. “I wanted to invite you to the war council this morning.”
“War council?” I thought I had ended your war.
Galen pauses at the insinuation in my tone. A group of nobles stands behind him, watching.
Tristen coughs. I dip my chin. “That is a high honor, King Galen. I fear I’m not worthy of such knowledge,” I say to ease the blow of my words.
Galen plays it off by laughing. “I suppose I should rename it now that the war is finished, but it has such a nice ring to it.”
War often does, until the bodies pile up and the scent of rotting flesh breaches Blackthorn’s high walls.
“Come, you might provide valuable insight,” Galen demands.
Shit!
“What of Queen Selene?” I ask. I need to be with her!
Galen’s eyes find Tristen. “Cover her security until the General returns.”
“Absolutely.” Tristen bows.
Galen and his entourage leave, filling the hall with chuckles and morning gossip. I peer at Tristen. “I’m good with the ladies, don’t worry,” he assures me as his goofy, lopsided smile fills my eyes. “Hey, it’s fine. Go.” He nods, but his hand is on his sword.
I fear the trenches of Blackthorn will alter me far more indefinitely than the battlefield did.