Chapter Eighteen
Eighteen
Davien is fast. The Butcher is faster. She’s a blur of motion, raising a short sword to block Davien’s dagger. They move so fast that I can’t tell where he drew the dagger from.
“Davien!” Vena calls. He’s already moving again, darting back and lunging with his other hand and another dagger. The Butcher deflects it a second time. “Stop this.” Vena rushes over. “This is Allor, and she is an ally to the Acolytes.”
“She looks like a Butcher to me.” Davien continues to put pressure on Allor’s blade. The woman wears a lazy smirk. I can almost see her keeping herself from carving Davien to bits.
“And you look like a spoiled prince to me, so let’s not get into the name-calling, hmm?” Allor says. Her voice is as soft as her shadow cloak.
“Enough.” Vena grabs their shoulders and tries to push them apart. It’s about as successful as trying to move two mountains. “I asked Allor to come. She’s going to help us figure out the ritual to get your power.”
“You’re trusting a Butcher?” Davien glances at Vena.
“You trusted a Butcher.”
“Shaye left them well before she joined us. This monster—”
“Again with the name-calling.” Allor rolls her eyes.
“Will both of you just put down your weapons?” Vena acts like she’s speaking to two children.
“Him first.” Allor sneers.
“Why, you—”
“On my count.” Vena sighs. “One. Two. Three.”
The two slowly ease apart. Davien returns his daggers to the sheaths hidden in the wide belt around his waist. Allor returns the sword to a scabbard on her hip. But her hand doesn’t leave the hilt. Which is far more unnerving when her eyes dart over to me.
“The rumors are true, then. You do have a human here.”
“I’m Katria.” It feels much better to be called by my name than “human.”
The woman’s grin widens and she nods. “Allor. But I suppose you already figured that out.”
Wispy strands of short black hair are pulled back at the nape of her neck.
A long white streak cuts a wedge out of her hairline from her brow to her right temple.
She’s about my height, but twice as muscled as I am, which is saying something, since I’ve never been considered a particularly frail person.
“Care to explain yourself?” Davien says to Vena.
“Allor is one of our key informants to the inner workings of the High Court. Without her, we would be very much in the dark about what Boltov is doing. She was the one who helped get the information for the restoration of the king’s magic, the one who told us about the relic we needed in the Natural World to complete it,” Vena says.
Davien considers this, eyes darting from Vena to Allor and back. He’s clearly still suspicious. Even if I can’t see his face, I can feel it off the man.
The muscles in Davien’s cheek twitch but he keeps his voice level when he says, “Then I am in your debt. When I am king you shall be—”
“Spare me.” Allor holds up a hand. “I’m helping you because it suits me.
Let’s not make more of a fuss than we need to.
Though I know that’s hard for you kingly types.
” She still wears a little smile, like the world is some big joke and she’s the one laughing.
It’s the look Helen got when she knew I was in trouble but I didn’t know yet.
I’ve learned not to trust a look like that.
“What are you getting for all this generosity?” I ask.
“I get to sleep well at night knowing I helped my people.” The words sound scripted to me and do little to calm my nerves.
“What are you really getting?”
Her smile turns slightly sinister. Still like my sister’s. Still everything I hate and know to be wary of.
She turns to Vena. “Why does this human care so much for our politics?”
“You didn’t answer me,” I say. She was vague at best.
“What I get out of this arrangement is my business.” Allor folds her arms.
“I admit I’m curious now,” Davien says casually. “What has Vena promised you?”
“Safety here in Dreamsong…and forgiveness for my crimes from our next king.”
Davien gives Vena a pointed stare. It seems I’m not the only one who knows how to read him, because Vena says, “Everyone needs something, Davien. And many will be like her, looking to free themselves from their past.”
“We will speak on this later,” Davien says like a proper king.
I can feel his annoyance. If it were me, I would already be giving Vena choice words for speaking on my behalf.
But I can also see her point. Thank goodness I’m not the one ruling.
I don’t know if I could navigate these types of decisions.
“I think that’s for the best,” Allor says. “They’ll begin to wonder where I am if I’m gone for too long.”
“So what is it we’re doing?” I ask. Hopefully the faster we do whatever it is, the faster Allor leaves. My nerves are still rattling in an entirely unpleasant way.
“I asked Allor to research the ancient records stored away in the High Court for any kind of information on a magical transference. Since she was the one to find how to draw out the magic of the ancient kings, I thought she might also be the one to find us a solution to this mess,” Vena says.
“And did you?” Davien arches his eyebrows.
“Perhaps…” Allor adjusts her hair, enjoying having this secret information far too much and is clearly not inclined to share it.
“Allor,” Vena says sternly.
“Fine, yes, maybe. I can’t be sure.”
“Incredibly helpful,” Davien says dryly.
“Will you let me tell you what I’ve found first?
” She glares and continues. “There are old texts on abdication.
It happened only twice in the records of the old kings, but it did happen.
And when it did, one king passed the power on to the next through this process.
The abdicating king would draw out his power and store it in the glass crown.
Then when the new king was crowned, the power would flow from the crown to him, as long as the previous ruler decreed it.
“Granted, this other person still couldn’t wear the glass crown if they weren’t in the bloodline—that can be worn only by the true heir of Aviness, as long as there is a living heir.
It seemed as though it was more to safeguard their powers in instances of an heir being too young to rule.
Someone would stand in and then abdicate back.
” Allor shrugs. “It’s a bit murky, as a lot of the ancient rituals and their effects are. ”
Davien runs a hand through his hair. I can hear him curse softly under his breath. Finally, he says, “Is that all? Are you done wasting our time?”
“I’ve hardly wasted your time.” Allor rolls her eyes. “I’m telling you that it is possible to take the magic from her and give it to you. You should be falling all over yourself trying to thank me.”
“Possible for ancient kings at the height of their powers who possessed the most sacred relic of our people—the glass crown. I still fail to see how that helps us here.”
I’m beginning to realize I need to get to the bottom of everything this glass crown can do. Shaye said it commanded loyalty from all the fae. But I’m getting the impression that it’s a lot more than that.
“It means there’s a ritual designed to move the power of kings,” Vena says. “And we don’t know if the glass crown must be the container that the power is moved in or if it can be something else.”
“Of course it must be the glass crown. What else would be mighty enough to contain the magic?”
Vena motions to me. “She is not the glass crown, and the power seems to be residing in her just fine.”
Davien turns to me and his face lights up.
My heart skips a beat. No one has ever looked at me that way, like I’m the most important thing in the world.
And then my heart stops and sinks like a lead weight into the pit of my stomach as I realize that it’s not me he’s looking at like that… it’s the magic in me.
He doesn’t care about you, a nasty voice inside me whispers, not really.
When he looks at you, he sees the magic.
I bite my lip and wish it weren’t true. But I know it is.
Davien’s brow furrows slightly and I wonder again if he can read me like I can read him.
The notion is as comfortable as crawling through thorny brambles.
It prickles my arms and rakes up my spine.
I look away and break whatever connection was forming between us.
“We should try,” I say. “The faster this magic is out of me, the faster I can go home.” When I bring my eyes back to Davien’s, he wears a slightly confused and wounded look. I barely resist remarking on it. How can he look hurt when all he wants is this power? When I am just an inconvenient vessel?
Vena saves me. “Agreed.” She crosses to me and rests her hands on my shoulders.
Suddenly it feels like she’s placed the weight of the world there.
“I know none of this will make sense to you as a human. But all I ask is that you continue to open your mind and heart to it. Your ancestors, so very long ago, were said to possess a budding magic that was stripped from them when they were left on the other side of the Fade. Perhaps, now that you are here, you can reignite those forgotten powers and let them serve you once more.”
“I’ll do my best.” It’s all I can offer. My gaze shifts to Allor. “What do I do?”
“First thing is you’ll need something to store the magic in.
I thought ahead and brought this.” Allor takes out a glass pendant on a silver chain.
The glass is cut in such a way that it catches even the faintest of flickers from the chandeliers overhead and breaks the light into rainbows. “You’re welcome.”
“Another relic?” Davien asks. Even he sounds suspicious now. Which makes me feel better, if only slightly. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something distinctly off about her.
“Indeed. It was among the royal jewels, down in the vaults where Boltov keeps the old Aviness treasures. Don’t ask me what king or queen it belonged to, I’ve not the foggiest.”
“Taking this was reckless of you.” Yet even as Vena says the words, she’s moving toward the necklace.