Chapter 73
She would play the game to achieve her goal. To ensure the deal she’d made with Shadow succeeded.
“You’ve lost your mind,” hissed Abraxas as she confessed her plan to him.
“Ironic words,” muttered Maeve as she slid into the seat of her vanity, inspecting the already forming bruises and pops of burst blood vessels across her neck and chest.
Her breastbone pulsed with each sharp breath she took.
“I’ll go get Astrea,” said Abraxas
“I’m going to leave it,” said Maeve, looking at her reflection with red and puffy eyes. “I need it for what I’m about to do.”
Maeve looked closely at the small, dark red and purple dots that were now scattered across her cheekbones and around her eyes. They nearly blended into her subtle freckles.
The skin around her neck was swollen and marred from Mal’s hand, and would form a bruise. Maeve followed it down to the faint black lines that shot up her throat, markings she had worn proudly, just as her father encouraged her to.
Mal’s devastated face was burned into her mind. She prayed he’d hold onto her final words, despite the Magic she was preparing to unleash.
Abraxas paced behind her.
“How are you going to Portal off realm without him realizing it?” He asked in a hushed tone. “The moment he cannot feel your Magic here, he will come for you. You cannot move in secret. I cannot even make a Portal to the next room without him knowing.”
“I can with your help,” said Maeve.
“How?” He asked in exasperation as a hand slipped through his bright hair and he stopped pacing
“Mal is not the only one with the knowledge of Vexkari,” she answered plainly.
Abraxas’ eyes met hers in the mirror. She slipped her Sinclair family ring off her finger and placed it on the vanity.
“You actually are mad,” he said quietly.
“No,” said Maeve. “I am determined I can pull this off.”
“And how will any of this heal Mal’s mind? How will any of this expel the darkness inside of him?”
Maeve traced her fingers over the ring’s band and the sapphire stone. “This is the only way I see.”
“We are moments away from waging war on The Elven world,” he said desperately. “How can you run like this? I need you here.”
Maeve turned on the stool and faced her cousin. “I will still be here,” she said softly. “Just. . .not the same. If I abandon Mal, she will abandon her desire for Maxius.”
Abraxas swallowed.
“I believe Mal can be saved,” said Maeve. “This is the only way I know how.”
She turned back towards the ring. “Now,” she began, “Do you still have your mother’s jaybird that can make her own Portals?”
The Tower Alphard picked for himself was, as expected, one of the largest of those restored under Mal’s reign. Second only to Abraxas’ own small castle.
Of course, none of them compared to Castle Morana.
She crossed the threshold of Magic protecting Alphard’s home and the gates slipped open for her. Along the pathway were the same dark vines that covered most of what remained of the lost civilization of Magic. Though it had been maintained and cleared from the houses.
There was an unsettling feeling in those vines and lack of color. Not a bloom insight, and yet they were alive. Covered in thorns and ready to draw blood.
She stopped and stood in front of the large black door, slowly wrapping her fingers around the silver serpent knocker, and knocked three times.
The sound echoed across the open lawn. She withdrew her shaking hands and pulled the hood of her cloak in tightly, shadowing most of her face.
Alphard Mavros swung open the door calmly, his hair disheveled and wild. He squinted and then frowned upon recognizing her features beneath her hood.
“Great,” said Alphard dryly. “What do you want? More orders for me to assassinate those disloyal to the Prince?”
“I just want to talk,” said Maeve.
Alphard studied her for a moment and shook his head. He turned and rolled his eyes briefly, leaving the door open. Maeve didn’t need to be told that was the closest thing to an invitation she would get. She stepped inside as he rounded the corner through an archway.
His house was ornately decorated, but Maeve recognized the taste to be his mother Irma’s. With maybe a touch of Abraxas’ control over the restoration of the beautiful houses.
She turned the corner into the sitting room.
“Care for a drink?” Asked Alphard, making his way over to the small bar in the corner.
“No,” said Maeve, lowering her hood.
“I’m sure you’re here to congratulate me,” said Alphard, without looking at her. “It being the eve of my wedding, and all.”
Alphard poured himself a glass of Dragon Whiskey and turned back towards her.
His eyes widened.
“Fuck,” said Alphard, freezing upon seeing her and letting the glass slip through his hands and shatter across the marble floor.
Maeve looked back at him, not even attempting to hide her fear any longer. Her whole body began to shake.
His mouth hung open slightly, unable to find the words to say to her.
“I need to know something,” said Maeve.
“What happened?” Asked Alphard.
“It doesn’t matter I need to–”
“The bloody fucking hell it doesn’t,” he said sharply.
“Would you still marry me?” Maeve blurted out, her voice breaking.
Alphard stood silently for a moment. “What?”
“Would you still marry me?” She repeated.
“Maeve. . .” Alphard shook his head in disbelief and looked down. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s not a trap,” she said. “I want to know if you would have it be so? Of your own will? If that’s what I needed.”
Alphard’s breaths were loud and heavy. “I am hours away from finally marrying her.”
His words cracked something in her chest. Perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t care that it would break his heart, what she was asking. Perhaps it was her own jealousy at the love Alphard and Victoria truly shared. Or that she was prepared to deny him of it.
Maeve doubled over with her face in her hands. Real tears streaked her cheeks.
Alphard shot to her and pulled her to the sofa, setting her down gently. He kneeled in front of her, taking her face in his hands.
“Tell me what’s happened,” said Alphard, pushing her hair out of her face and looking into her blue eyes.
“I can’t,” cried Maeve. “I just need to know–”
“Of course I would,” he said softly, interrupting her. “I made a promise to protect you, many years ago.” His hand withdrew and showed her a very faint jagged scar along his palm. “I made it in blood. I always intended to keep that promise until it was clear you didn’t need my hand.”
“With who? My father?”
Alphard shook his head. “Antony.”
Maeve swallowed and let out a tense breath. “What if I needed it now?”
Alphard brushed her fallen hair behind her ear once more and examined her bruisings. “Mal did this.”
“There is a darkness that has taken him, Alphard,” she cried. “I cannot extinguish it. I am lost. He is lost. I cannot stay here. Maxius cannot be subjected to this evil.”
“There is no realm you can travel to that he won’t find you.” His hand moved from her face and he placed one pointed finger at her chest where her Dread Mark lay. His own in the same spot on his body. “That ensures it.”
Her breaths caught in her chest as she tried to keep her tears at bay.
“What if I had a way?” She asked in a whisper.
Alphard’s eyes closed. He pulled from her and stood. “You’re serious.”
Maeve wiped her face, sniffling.
“Why me?”
Maeve didn’t answer. “That’s not relevant.”
He turned on her, his temper slipped out. “You are asking me to give up everything. It’s not irrelevant.”
“It is,” she argued. “You admitted it. It’s written in Magic and in Blood: you will not ignore the call no matter how you may desire to.”
“Perhaps a foolish bond I made when I thought you were my duty, mine to claim. The world has changed, you ensured it. You wrote the new rules you now wish to run from.”
“It is for Maxius that I run–” she began fiercely.
“Then admit it!” He yelled. “For once admit that you are being selfish. I will take your hand, I will protect your son but I just want you to say–”
“Fine,” she cried. “I picked you because the alternatives are grim. There is no one else that would do this willingly. No one that cares for me for as long as you have. No one else understands the position I am in, that would make such a sacrifice–”
Alphard held his hand up. He turned away from her. “You’re going to alter my memories,” he said, and then shook his head. “No, not just mine. You’re going to alter everything.”
Maeve’s tears dried.
A soft breath escaped his lips. “I knew you had some secret up your sleeve.”
Maeve looked down at the floor. “Mal doesn’t know.”
They remained silent for a long moment until Alphard finally spoke.
“Give me tonight with Victoria. And tomorrow, I am yours.”
Alphard didn’t look back at her as he left her. She heard the front door open and close.
She didn’t dare move to touch the Dread Mark beneath her clothes.
Greater Magic has been broken , echoed across her mind in a familiar voice she couldn’t place.