Chapter 9
The next three days are a blur, filled with rage and exhaustion that cripples me every time I open my eyes.
Thatcher killed my brother, likely on my father's orders.
The King of Daramveer announced what he claimed was an unfortunate incident—a lie that led the town to believe someone had shifted into the castle grounds.
Someone killed Barlowe in cold blood, sending a message to the royal family.
Thatcher kept a casual calm about himself as the castle buzzed with panic that the murderer was still out there, waiting to strike—he never realized Maines and I hid in the shadows.
Maines has kept busy, studying the blade we pulled from his throat.
She confirmed it was a poison, but not anything she’d seen before.
Her inability to save him left her broken, and we’ve done an excellent job of avoiding speaking about what happened over the past few days.
Maines has searched through papers, books, and scrolls, seeking anything that might guide her in the right direction—all with no luck so far.
The men vying for my hand in marriage will arrive tomorrow, and even though the castle is in a state of panic, the town still buzzes with excitement.
The names of the competitors haven’t been disclosed—the mystery maintaining high anticipation.
I feel numb, shattered, and have somehow swallowed my magic once again.
Barlowe said I was strong, but he was mistaken.
I feel weak—too afraid to unleash that part of myself just yet.
That’s something I’ll reserve for Thatcher.
I don’t care if he gets hurt. Keeping it caged for the past five years has given me some sort of stamina to lock it back up once more.
The intensity of my magic trying to escape pounds on my head like an animal trapped, desperate to break free.
My bedroom feels like a cage with guards posted outside day and night—keeping tabs on me and monitoring my every move.
I move from my bed, shuffling to the sitting area near the roaring fire, rubbing the exhaustion from my eyes.
I haven’t had a nightmare since my brother died, which is the only thing keeping me going now.
When I sleep, all I find is dark, nothingness, and a silence that is louder than the screams I once heard in my dreams.
Maines enters my room, purple bags weighing down her eyes and her perfect hair a tangled mess.
She flinches when she meets my gaze, anticipating that my dark eyes will pierce her soul like they did the night my brother died.
“Can we talk about what happened?” she asks as she plops down in the chair beside me.
I know she hasn’t come to terms with what happened, and neither have I.
“Someone needs to know the truth. We can’t let my brother get away with this,” she insists.
“No,” I say, defeat lacing my tone.
“You won’t even entertain the idea? I can’t eat. I can’t sleep knowing my family is capable of this, Briar.”
“We can’t tell my father we saw what happened because he ordered Thatcher to kill him.
Didn’t you hear what he said before he stabbed my brother?
Barlowe told me he was going to stop what our father was planning and that I should trust him.
I’m trusting him right now and going to find out what my father is doing. ”
“Fine. Then we’ll find out what Barlowe knew.
It must be something significant if it got him killed.
” The words hit my chest as she continues, “I’m researching the poison that was on the blade.
It’s ancient and not from this kingdom. A few healers at the House of Hedro are helping me, even though they don’t know why. ”
“Maines,” I blurt out, “I need to work on using my magic again. Little by little so I can control it. It’s rusty, but it’s time to awaken what lives deep in me.”
A spark of interest forms on her drained face, but before I have time to register her next move, she slaps her hand around my arm and shifts us to the roof.
“Again,” Maines huffs.
Bent over, I’m barely able to grasp my breath, sweat pouring off my brow.
“Briar, you can barely shift ten feet. You’re going to have to push yourself to get better. Now, shift!”
My magic feels like an itch, like an ever-present tickle in my throat that is desperate to be scratched. I focus and allow myself to do what used to come so naturally as I become mist.
The weightless feeling of my body zipping through the air makes me nauseous as I land nearly twenty feet away from where Maines stands this time. “Better but not great,” she barks. “Again!”
Dizziness hits me like a shock wave, but the pain I feel with it is a welcome sensation—it’s the first thing I’ve felt in days. “I need to catch my breath, or I’m going to pass out, Maines!” I gasp.
She rolls her eyes, yelling from the distance. “You won’t have time to catch your breath if you are in a bad situation and need to get out. I need you to dig deep! Don’t think, just shift.”
Gritting my teeth, I concentrate once more, fully allowing myself to tap into the darkness within.
Words from my father and Thatcher replay in my mind—fury becomes my driving force—as the anger from my brother’s murder fills my core.
My vision blurs as my body propels forward.
My once-solid body turns to mist as I whip through the air like a black gust of wind, shadows trailing in my path.
Landing with a thud, I turn to assess my distance, expecting another lashing from Maines.
I blink in shock as I now stand in the courtyard, a healthy distance from where I once stood on the roof.
Cheers and applause in the distance let me know that I’ve finally impressed my teacher.
I glance up to see a small figure clapping on the roof high above.
As soon as I regain my bearings, Maines shifts beside me, smiling broadly for the first time in days. The sun moving across the sky casts a pleasant shadow amid the blazing light as the day transitions to dusk. The extended training has both exhausted and fulfilled me.
“That was great! A few hours of practice, and you can already do that?” She embraces me tightly. Pulling back, a small tear forms in the corner of her eyes. “Your brother would have loved to see that after all these years.”
She looks at me with such sorrow in her eyes as the mention of my brother slices me in two.
“Thank you,” I respond.
She lowers her head. “Why are we doing this, Briar? Working on controlling your magic again? You swore you’d never use it again but never told me why.”
I want to be honest with her, but I can’t, not yet. I open my mouth, hoping the wrong words don’t flow out when Thatcher rounds the corner.
“Well, if it isn’t my exasperating sister and the beautiful princess herself. I see you two are doing nothing of the matter.”
My fists clench. Maines grabs my arm as if trying to hold me back from doing anything stupid. Her hands tremble against my arm.
“Keep moving, Thatcher,” Maines snaps, her voice slightly wobbling. “Doesn’t the king need his shoes polished or something?”
He cackles, “It’s such a shame Barlowe got himself killed. It’s a daunting task picking up the pieces he left behind.”
My eyes narrow, fury rising in my chest as the darkness starts to swell like a trigger being set off. Black shadows spark on my fingertips, earning Maines' attention as her eyes widen. A wall of darkness shoots from my palms, hitting Thatcher in the chest.
His body flies backward, landing with a crack.
Maines grabs my shoulders, shaking me. “Oh Gods, Briar. Your eyes. Snap out of this.”
The feeling of my magic diminishes and I choke down the blind rage that almost took over.
Thatcher stands, brushing off the grass peppered on his black armor.
“You could have killed me, you bitch. I’m sure your father will be thrilled to hear about this.
His daughter, using her magic again.” He laughs and says before leaving, “There may be use for you, after all.”
Maines trembles but steadies herself, saying, “Your eyes! They turned black again. I’ve only seen that happen once, a long time ago, from someone whose powers were far beyond the norm. You must tell me what’s going on.”
Still amped from the power in my veins, I scream, “I can’t!”
Her jaw snaps back at the intensity leaking from me.
My shoulders slack. “I’m sorry. I can’t explain all of this, not yet, but I will soon.”
Maines breathes deep and slow as she calms her pounding heart. She closes her eyes, letting the wind whip her hair around for a moment. “You promise,” she says, her eyes softening as she looks at me once more.
“I promise.”
Grabbing her hand, I whisk her away toward the courtyard columns, hidden from castle staff or anyone passing by nosey enough to try to hear what’s going on.
The dead vines brush against my skin as we move to a dark corner.
“I know what I need to do to challenge my father—to find out more information about his plans—and I’m going to need your help. ”