16. Chapter 16
A fter Orm left, I looked at the soldiers guarding the cell and gestured towards the door.
‘Leave.’
They hesitated. Orm strictly enforced his protocols, and one of those orders was that no prisoner should be left alone with one guard, but this was no ordinary prisoner … and I wasn’t a guard.
Besides, I needed to be alone with him because as soon as I’d entered the dungeon, I’d felt my family’s magic signature on the demon.
The vjesci stood up and looked at me. He was also waiting, which showed just how lucid he was after his corruption. The unblinking stare didn’t disturb me, nor did the hypnotic swaying, the demon buffeted by the aether moving through the cell. With a guilty look at each other, the guards left. As soon as we were alone, I approached the prisoner.
‘Speak.’
‘Alaric’va Shen’ra, I have a message for you.’
A small bubble of bloody saliva splattered on his chin. Purple flames burst into life on my palm as I called on my necromancy, ready to destroy him if the message proved volatile.
It was unlikely a vjesci would be sent as an assassin, but I couldn’t exclude the possibility. Before letting him continue, however, I asked, ‘Did my sister send you or my father?’
‘Lady Rowena made me, but I’m not her messenger.’
The creature licked his lips, taking a step closer. I could see the flash of anger in his gaze, but other than that, he didn’t make any hostile moves. The blood oath on my chest throbbed. Its proximity to my sister’s magic caused it to burn with urgency. I could feel the aether condensing around us, filling the space with the tension of an impending storm.
‘Is she still alive?’ I asked, unsure if I wanted to know the answer, as both possibilities were equally terrifying. ‘Alive … yes, she was alive,’ the creature answered, tilting his head as if pondering the meaning of the words. ‘She serves our lord now and wields significant influence.’
‘Why did she make you?’
I refused to believe that my sister, the golden-haired, loving girl, kind even when causing mischief … no. There was no way someone so full of life could create a vjesci. It took a skilled necromancer, one willing to perform the foulest of magics, to rip the life from someone whilst preserving the soul and mind so that it retained the ability to think and speak.
The only reason for her to have created him—other than the most dreadful—was that she did it to send me a message that maybe she’d found a way to escape.
‘I don’t know her reasons, but she made me and many others. Our lord asks, and she creates: strigae, ghouls, spectrae—she makes them all,’ he said, turning the blood in my veins to ice.
I needed a moment to compose myself, and I turned my gaze to the wall, focusing on the droplets of water tracking their way along the granite. No matter how hard I stared, there was no escape from what I’d heard. It was true that vjesci were demons of bad tidings and death, because I felt that whatever he was going to say would be the death of me.
‘Who were you?’ I asked.
‘Were? I am Tarant Sethan, from the noble House of Nightfall.’
For a moment, I felt pity for the being who still considered himself a part of a family wiped out during the Necromancer’s War. The Moroi of the Nightfall clan were skilled in diplomacy and illusion. Tales of old spoke of the banquets they threw for foreign dignitaries, the spectacles so grandiose and full of light that everyone who witnessed them was spellbound by the power of Ozar and its culture.
‘State your message, and I will let you find peace,’ I commanded, and the vjesci’s eyes turned milky white.
‘ Son of Shen’ra, you have something I want. You will bring the conduit mage to my court. In exchange, I will allow your sister to leave if she chooses. Fail to deliver the mage before winter, and I will send Rowena back to you one piece at a time. ’
The voice that uttered its demands was different from the demon’s. It was emotionless, almost monotone as if the Vel was reading a message burned into its mind. A wave of power washed outwards, forcing me back as the vjesci’s face changed. It was the being who’d sent the message now in front of me, looking at me through the Vel demon’s eyes.
‘Oh no, you don’t, you bastard. Possessing this corpse from such a distance won’t allow you to influence me.’ I quickly drew several sigils, pushing them forward, and purple flames wrapped around the vjesci like thorny vines, lifting the undead off the floor. It laughed, and the sound of it sent a shiver down my spine.
‘ Now, now, Alaric, don’t you remember what happened to the last member of your family who defied me? Or was your mother’s corpse not a strong enough message? You will be mine, boy. As will your new toy. ’
Agony pierced my chest. Silver symbols crawled under my skin, burning with icy fire, and I felt like an open book while the Lich King looked directly into my very soul. What have you done to me, mother? I thought, dropping to my knees, clutching at my kaftan.
‘ She screamed so beautifully as I tore her soul apart. When I was done, your father sent what was left of her, a corpse filled with a maelstrom of hate and magic, back to you. Do you know why? Even with her last breath, your mother begged me to spare Rowena, giving me you in return—and I did. ’
His gloating expression made my blood boil, but I silently stumbled to my feet to stand before the Lich King’s effigy as he continued.
‘ You’re beginning to understand, aren’t you, boy? Your mother sacrificed you to save your sister. That curse etched into your body marks you as my creature. The pain you feel now? It will be nothing compared to the inferno that will consume you when I touch your soul. Bring me the mage, or you will soon beg for the sweet release of death. ’
Fury so wild and consuming overwhelmed me and I screamed in anguish. As the last echoes of my despair faded, I sobbed. ‘Why did my father not stop this? How did you corrupt him so completely that he forgot even the little love he had for my mother?’ I asked the one question that had troubled me all these centuries. My father—harsh and cruel as he could be—had never hurt my mother, the only person able to calm his anger.
‘ Fool. You think your father cared for that woman? Roan chose a human because he despised his kin. He didn’t want to be one of those men kept as breeding stock like prize bulls. A sweet, innocent human would do as she was told and give him children to continue the bloodline before quietly dying once her usefulness expired. ’
I knew he hated fae women, but that my mother’s only value in his eyes was as a broodmare? It explained many of my father’s actions. I wished I could have kept the delusion that, at the beginning at least, she meant something to him. The revelations I was being forced to confront left me feeling numb inside.
Everything I believed in had crumbled to dust at my feet. I had loved my mother. Even after her spirit cursed me and forced me to take a blood oath, I still loved her, explaining away her actions. Yet now I knew she’d traded one child for another—the son who was the spitting image of the monster she married … for the bright, shining star that was my sister.
I braced myself as I stared at the vjesci, its ghastly smile mocking the tightening purple flames around its body.
‘ You have until winter. If the first snow falls on the courtyard of Katrass and you are not here with the conduit mage, I will see how much blood Rowena can lose before she joins her mother beyond the Veil. Then I will come tear down the Barrier and find you . ’
‘We will strengthen the Barrier,’ I lied, and the corpse laughed.
‘ No, you won’t. The damaged keystone weakens with each passing day. Do you seriously think one conduit mage can restore it? The Barrier will fall, it is already falling. The Rift is growing, just like my army, and when I flood your kingdoms with monsters, even your empress will bow to me. We will see where you stand when that happens: by my side, together with your father—or under my boot with the rest of them. ’
I’d heard enough. Despite the pain, or maybe because of it, my necromancy felt more potent than ever, and I used that strength to garrotte the talking corpse. The purple flames dug into the creature’s flesh, dismantling the spell that animated it as they dismantled the vjesci’s body. With one last grimace, the Lich King’s visage disappeared, and I was left looking at the face of the proud Moroi once again.
‘Are you going to destroy me?’ he asked wistfully, emotion softening his voice, and I nodded, unable to prevent compassion from reaching my eyes. He was as much a victim of that madman as I was.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m glad. It’s past time I rejoined my kin,’ Tarant stated, looking me in the eye as I dismantled the magic tying the remains of his spirit to this realm. ‘Don’t believe anything your sister tells you.’
His last words haunted me, his remains falling to the floor with the final syllable, decomposing with unnatural speed when the ravages of time caught up with him. The muscles of my legs gave out as I released my hold on the aether, and I sat with a thud.
All these years, I’d had a purpose. A purpose that held back the few moments of self-pity I’d felt in my darkest days. Now I knew that everything I’d believed in was a lie, and there was no longer any way to pretend I was a hero saving the imprisoned princess.
The dead couldn’t lie to a necromancer. My parents had betrayed me. Those who should’ve loved me the most had used me as a bargaining chip to save their favoured child, and I had stepped into the trap, willingly submitting myself to centuries of torment.
‘I wish I’d never been born,’ I said to the remains of the vjesci.
At least he could escape to the afterlife and join his kin. I had no one, and the only person I could call a friend I’d pushed away, knowing Orm’s conditioning would prevent him from reaching out. Now, he was obsessed with his Nivale, and with his previous reluctance to let her go to the Barren Lands, I knew what his answer would be if I revealed what I’d learned today. I knew him well enough to realise he was falling for our conduit mage, even if he and the object of his interest were blissfully oblivious.
I recalled that first meeting by the lake and smiled bitterly. Annika Diavellar was the only person who’d quietened my curse, allowing me to breathe easier, whose magic was in perfect synergy with my own, even if she didn’t know it yet. After that day, I thought Annika would treat me with scorn, like the rest of her brethren, but after a few days in her company, I knew I’d found a kindred spirit.
I sought her company not only because she eased the pain but because she let me hold her hand. I felt good about myself whenever I was near her, and for the first time since my father’s betrayal, I felt a hint of pride at being a dark fae necromancer. And now the Lich King wanted to take even that from me.
I hammered my fist into the harsh stone again and again until I bled, but the vision of that demonic smirk demanding I bring Annika to his court refused to fade away. The dark cell began glowing eerily as my magic moved with a mind of its own, seeping into the bedrock surrounding me as I raged and mourned.
Not for my mother. She loved me; I know it, but how could she do such a thing to her own flesh and blood? Not for the bastard that sired me. The worst was the fact that I didn’t even mourn my sister’s fate.
I mourned for the waste that my life had become. All those years I’d lost, searching for a way to save my sister, to take some form of revenge. I’d learned to hide every emotion, painting a false smile on my lips when I was scorned by humans, just to gather knowledge or resources.
When the looks of disgust from mages for the upstart necromancer prevented me from gaining access to ancient texts, I’d learned high magic, hiding away yet another part of my blackened soul. I mourned the boy I was and the man he had turned into—the sad husk who craved pain because pain was the only thing he had left.
And I raged because, through all of that, I’d found a home. I found someone who had become my brother and a woman who gave me hope, but now the fates demanded that I destroy it all.
‘No, I refuse to allow it. The only one destroyed will be you, Cahyon Abrasa. I will dismantle the immortality my father gave you and force you down Veles’ 1 throat if I must. Even if it means I die alongside you. That is my oath. I swear to the gods, above and below, I swear on the Dark Mother’s tears. If I have to lose it all, I will take you with me.’
The Lich King was right about the Barrier, however. The keystone’s magic was fading, and no magic could fix it. I had given Orm false hope because I knew the plan that I had formed in my head since meeting Ani was too reckless for him to ever agree to.
The only way to save the Lowland Kingdoms was to kill the Lich King. I needed Annika because, before the Barrier failed completely, I was positive it would be possible for me to force a way through despite the foul magic in my blood. I would fulfil the Lich King’s wishes and bring him the conduit mage, but she would arrive Anchored and ready for battle.
She might, if we survived, even forgive my subterfuge that put her in danger. The bitter laugh that escaped at that thought forced a last, lonely tear from my eye, and I felt it slide over my cheek to fall silently to the floor.
For so many years, I lived hoping to remove the curse, but now … Now, I would live for revenge. With one deep, slow breath, I centred myself, forcing a peaceful smile onto my lips. My heart and mind were in turmoil, but that was not for the world to see. I needed to play my part. I needed to be the Alaric they wanted to see: the charming man, the healer, and the high mage who had promised a solution to the swarming monsters.
When Annika finally trusted me enough to Anchor me, I would take her to the Lich King … and her heart-shaped face will be the last thing he sees before I destroy him. I was not born a monster, but the Dark Mother willed it so. And I was done fighting my fate.
1. Veles — a god of darkness and the ruler of the Underworld.