Chapter 72
Snow started falling in The Dread Lands and it did not stop. The Greywood’s spindly branches looked more dead than ever against the icy backdrop. Castle Morana was colder than Stalakta on Heims, even with the layered clothes and coats they now wore and the pale green fires that blazed through the halls.
Mordred and his wolves lurked at every corner, ready to report to Mal any talk against his plans to invade The Elven Lands or any questioning his sanity.
Earth, in the time it had been abandoned, entered a time where the power-hungry Magicals who remained there created gangs of forceful law. There were still Magical Militia on Earth, still thousands of citizens who chose to remain there, trapped in a lawless realm.
Mal showed little care for them. He said it was their punishment for not coming to The Dread Lands when it was offered.
Many of the Sacred and Magicals stood behind him earnestly. Mal was on the cusp of full domination. With Kier already having denounced his titles and given Mal the entire realm of Hiems, and his complete control of Vaukore Academy and its realm, it was only natural that the Elven Lands were next.
“I will not go,” said Maeve.
Mal did not verbally acknowledge her from his throne, but his Magic tapped on her mental shields. She debated for a moment, and then resigned, allowing him entry.
You will mind your tongue in my court, and remember your son.
Maeve’s eyes narrowed across the long table in the Throne Room, rage barreling through her as he continued discussing his plan for invading The Elven Lands.
Rage he unleashed in her. Rage he tamed.
Maeve placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward, facing him fully. “I. Am. Not. Going,” she seethed, her teeth scraping together.
No one in attendance looked at either one of them. No one dared speak.
Mal’s neck craned towards her. Green, glimmering eyes dared her a step further as she spoke into his mind.
I know the prophecy. It is not finished.
Yet , he finalized with a scowl.
Maeve leaned back in her seat, satisfied to have won such a small battle.
A battle was all that remained between them.
Mal, her Mal, came in glimpses and glances. The war inside his mind was futile. The darkness of Shadow that possessed him was as strong as his eyes were green.
“You do not deserve that mark on your chest,” he said, addressing her for the first time in the tense meeting.
“Then take it,” she fired back, gesturing her arms wide. “Oh, but then how will you track my every move and emotion? How will you remain one step ahead of me?”
Mal’s eyes traveled down to her neck, to her inky black veins. “There are other ways in which you belong to me. I am in your veins, in your skin, wedged between your bones.”
“If only I could bleed you out,” she said.
“Enough,” he drawled.
“You are talking about waging war on innocents,” said Maeve, ignoring his command to be silent.
“Then so be it,” he replied. “There will only be one crown in the six realms. And it will be mine.”
“You have the power to take it all yourself, why force me?”
“Because oaths will not so easily be forgotten in my kingdom.”
“And what of the oaths you swore me?” She asked. “What of your promises?”
“Perhaps we should reconvene another time,” said Abraxas quietly, his eyes on the scrolls of parchment across the table.
“My promises?” Mal repeated darkly, ignoring his Hand entirely. “You forget endlessly what I have accomplished.”
"If only forgetting were that easy," said Maeve.
The rocky beaches of The Black Deep were covered in a thin layer of ice, choppy and jagged as the water pushed and pulled beneath it. The black water spread as far as the eye could see, becoming one with the dark horizon.
Snow flurries touched down on the stone railing of the balcony, adding to the layer of ice forming along the railing.
Maeve.
Mal’s voice called, searching for her.
She released her Magic, drawing him to her.
A black swirl of cosmic night flitted across the balcony. It swirled high, evaporating and revealing Mal.
His hair was unkempt and his shirt fully unbuttoned, exposing his scarred chest. His green eyes pleaded with a lost desperation.
He crossed towards her, unaffected by the flying drops of ice hitting his exposed skin.
Mal’s hand landed on her hips, sliding down her thighs as he kneeled before her.
“Just a little,” he said.
She touched his face tenderly, sending his eyes closed as she ran her fingers over the scar splitting his eye. The scar she’d given him. “Why can’t you always be like this?”
Snow piled in tiny white drops in his dark hair and on his shoulders.
“Where’s Maxius?” She asked.
His hands tensed on her thighs. “Don’t talk about him. It’s not safe.”
“Then no blood for you,” she replied.
Mal’s head fell back as he looked up at her, his brows pulled together as his lips parted. He fisted the fabric at her legs and yanked her to her knees before him. Ice crunched beneath her.
“Do you enjoy that I have to beg you?” He asked, his hands moving to her face.
“No,” she replied solemnly. “I enjoy nothing of watching your possession.”
“Then help me sleep,” he said, “help me rid her–”
His eyes squeezed shut and his hands fell to his lap as he hung his head with a slow breath.
Maeve tucked her fingers beneath his chin, forcing his gaze back up at her. His face twitched in agony beneath Shadow’s spell, punishment for daring to speak against her.
“It’s not your fault,” she said with heavy eyes, as she looked across the Black Deep. A warm trickle of wind caressed her skin, gone so quickly she questioned its existence at all. “It’s my fault.”
Bright white light erupted in her vision, pulling her deep into Mal’s mind. Darkness swam around her in misty trails of Magic. Toxic and deadly.
A flash of a moment scattered in broken pieces across the darkness. She felt the vision more than she saw it.
She knew the face, though it was brief and distant and changed. Older now was the boy before her. His name was Jude, the child from Mal’s orphanage on Earth.
Maeve’s eyes widened and a rush of joy flooded her skin as she realized where Mal hid Maxius away. She now knew where her son was.
Satisfied?
Maeve’s fleeting joy vanished at the voice.
Darkness consumed her once more, swirling up around her, feeling for her Magic.
Shadow’s voice echoed across the void of Mal’s mind. It lingered, repeating into silence with an unsettling vibration.
Shadow knew where Maxius was.
“You’ve known all along,” said Maeve, her voice flat in the darkened space.
Her teeth snapped together as she shook her head. Shadow had tricked her once before. She would not fail again.
“You may think this a game, but you will not play it better than me,” said Maeve.
A game? A game of crowns? A game of broken hearts? A game of death? I win them all.
“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe you know where he is.”
The cunning Magic circling her smiled. Her eyes squeezed shut at the uncomfortable and invasive sensation.
Consider it a parting gift. You are in the way of my crown.
Maeve pressed her Magic out, slowly and carefully. Shadow’s mind was everywhere at once, with no place to latch onto.
Laughter filled the space. Maeve flinched, withdrawing at once.
You think you can shatter my mind without shattering his? We are one now. What you inflict on my mind, you inflict on his.
A glow of pale light illuminated behind her, as ice prickled down her spine. Maeve turned over her shoulder.
Do you know my name?
Many names popped into Maeve’s head, but the image of her as a child, with chained legs and ankles stood stark in her mind.
“Judyth,” said Maeve softly to the pale and striking woman.
She looked nothing like her portrait on the library ceiling and everything like the ghost of Maeve’s nightmares. Her long white hair and fingers dipped into sticky, swirling shadow.
Her icy brows tugged together. Her pale lips did not move as her voice resounded towards Maeve. I haven’t been called that name for many centuries.
“It really is you,” said Maeve in a soft breath. “Shadow.”
Her expression shifted. Her eyes narrowed as she said, I have been called that name before, but not by you. Strange Magic, Shadow Magic. They were wise to fear it. We’ve met before, remember? You so graciously offered me your blood on Mount Morte .
“I’ll never forget such a costly mistake.”
Shadow smiled, the beauty that was buried beneath her gaunt appearance shining through.
“If you truly know where Maxius is, why wouldn’t you move to bring him back here.”
I do not want him here. Just as I do not want you here, Dread Viper.
Maeve didn’t dare look away from the deceptive creature.
You have no future here. You can either let the Prince go, or I will take him from you.
“Haven’t you already?”
A hiss bounced across the void. I have not even hardly begun.
Maeve’s chest tightened. She wasn’t even certain she’d said the words until Shadow’s response.
“If I let Mal go. . .you will let me go?”
Admiration swelled around her in Magic. At last, you chose yourself. I was disappointed with how selfless you’ve been up to now.
“You haven’t hurt Maxius because you don’t want to risk his Magic joining Mal’s and fulfilling Emerie’s prophecy.”
The admiration vanished, replaced by fury. Shadow’s face darkened. Maeve continued.
“Isn’t that what you want? Mal for yourself, and Maxius gone?”
Shadow’s eyes traced over Maeve.
“I will make you a deal.”
Laughter scattered around her as . She bargains with me?
“Or not.”
The laughter subsided. Maeve continued.
“I will remove myself from your way. And you will let me and my son go.”
Silence fell. Maeve waited for her reply with bated breath and worsening resentment.
You stay away from the Dread Prince, and I will stay away from your son.
“Swear it,” said Maeve quickly, desperate to solidify her bargain before her heart broke and prevented her from the necessary choices.
I want your eyes.
“What?” Snapped Maeve.
The color. I want the color of your eyes.
Maeve stammered a reply, and then closed her mouth.
She had her father’s eyes.
“And what color will mine be?” She asked at last.
The darkness smiled. We will trade.
Vacant pale eyes of ice stared back at her. Beautiful though Shadow had been, and still was in her own haunting way, Maeve was not certain Shadow’s pale white eyes would suit her.
For all your scars you remain vain.
Maeve took a long breath.
“Fine,” she relented, holding up her palm to strike across the scarred skin.“But not until we are safe from here. Agreed?”
Certainly. You will need those pretty blue eyes one more time.
“And you will not kill Mal,” she commanded, adding to their deal.
The arrogance around her faded. Tears threatened to slip from the corners of her eyes at the weight of her weakness.
“If you want a crown, it will be at his side. Not at his demise.”
Contemplation shifted across the void, turning to anger.
You do not command me.
“Today I do,” said Maeve. “Or I will withdraw from his mind, and if it is done with my last breath, I will ensure his Magic becomes one with Maxius’, fulfilling the prophecy you so desperately fear.”
Shadow's frustrated Magic swirled around her, closing some of the gap between them as the pale woman was suddenly closer.
“You will not hurt him, or there is no bargain,” said Maeve, a shake in her voice. “Is that understood?”
Magic sliced across her outstretched hand, sealing their deal.
Ice burned into her throat, her chest, her face, flooded her lungs.
Go and shatter his heart of ice, Little Viper, Shadow mocked.
The void of her mind shifted and frigid ice pressed into her back. Mal hovered above her on the snowy balcony of Castle Morana.
“You cannot,” he cried through a clamped jaw, constricting her throat. “You cannot leave me.”
“All that I do is done for you!” She rasped, hot tears soaking her cheeks.
His hands joined as one, squeezing and blocking all air flow. His face relaxed in terrifying control. His breaths became slow as she pushed her Magic against him.
“You swore to fight for me,” he said coolly, the whites of his eyes scattered with red.
Maeve’s eyes squeezed shut against the pressure. He overpowered her in every way.
Jealousy spiraled around them in the form of a great shadow.
“You swore,” he said again, his voice growing colder and more distant.
He pulled her from the floor, never releasing her throat until they kneeled before one another. Maeve’s arms hung limply at her sides. Resistance was pointless. She looked up at him, sucking in what tiny gasps she could.
“I have done it all for you,” he said smoothly, his nostrils flaring. “And I am not enough.”
The jealous cloud of Magic circling them grew darker. Maeve’s brows pulled together. The Magic laced through it was not Mal’s.
“How can I love you if you will not let me?” He asked as the circling shadow cast over them.
His grip loosened and slacked. His eyelids drooped.
Maeve moved her hands to her face. “Remember my words, Mal,” she whispered. “In the darkness, remember my vow.” Their eyes met as she swore to him, unbreakable Magic snapping between them. “Pour toujours.”
Maeve pressed her lips to his as they faded into darkness, the feeling of his lips slipping from her. Black night fell upon them as Shadow claimed him. The darkness lifted, and she was alone with wet, stinging cheeks.
à tout jamais , Mal’s voice echoed across her mind.