Chapter Eighteen #2
“I know. But you’re glad I did.” Allor grins and holds it out.
Vena takes the pendant with both hands, cradles it gently. “Yes, that is the make of the old ones,” she whispers and turns to me. “Here.”
I accept the necklace. I expected the glass to feel sharp, given its many edges, but it feels more like velvet underneath my fingers—warm, soft, almost alive. I inhale softly as a rush surges through me.
“What did you feel?” Vena misses nothing.
“It—it feels familiar,” I admit. “Something about it…I’ve felt this before.”
“That’s the power within you recognizing this and calling to it.” Vena looks back at Allor. “What is the next step for her to abdicate this power?”
“From what I read, the king who was abdicating held the glass crown and looked into the eyes of his successor. He said he would impart the magic and throne. And then it was handed over and the new king was crowned.”
“Seems easy enough.” Davien comes toward me, walking with purpose. I stare up at him, heart instantly racing once more thanks to his proximity. “Good. Look into my eyes, Katria.”
The way he says that…so easy, almost sultry. I bite my lip. I hate what this man does to me. I don’t want everything to be ignited by the mere sight of him. But in that ethereal way of his, he couldn’t be more handsome.
“What next?” I whisper. Even though they just told me what this ritual entailed, my mind is already blank.
“Wait, first…” Vena says. She’s buzzing about in my periphery. Whatever she’s doing, though, is lost on me.
All I can focus on is Davien’s eyes. Perhaps the ritual has already started.
They’ve never looked brighter—never been more all-consuming.
My stare wanders, riding down the edge of his nose to land on his lips, a dusky pink that begs to be kissed.
It’s good my sisters never laid eyes on him.
Even though he’s a fae, they would be utterly shattered.
Maybe his being fae would make them desire him all the more. He’s dangerous…forbidden.
So what hope do I have? I swallow thickly. I don’t have an answer.
“Two separate. One together,” Vena murmurs.
Her fingers appear in my field of vision as she reaches up to Davien’s cheek.
She draws swirling lines and dots across his right cheek and then his left in a dark purple ink that slowly fades as it dries.
Then I feel her fingers on my cheek. “Two separate. One together.”
“Two separate,” I’m compelled to repeat. The ink seeps into me like the words.
“One together,” Davien finishes, sending a rush through me.
Vena moves behind me. I’m trapped between her and Davien. Not that there’s any escaping. There never was for me. As soon as Joyce married me off, I was destined to be with this man…even if that marriage is no longer valid.
“Now, start,” Vena whispers in my ear as I look into Davien’s eyes. “Breathe with him.” Davien inhales and I do the same, just like the drawings on our cheeks mirror each other. “Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.”
The breaths are so slow and deep that I’m lightheaded. I lean closer to him and I think he does too. His soft fingers brush my calluses as he cups my hands, holding the glass necklace with me.
“Gather the power of kings—the power that does not belong to you. Take that foreign magic and cast it to its rightful owner,” Vena instructs.
I inhale on Davien’s exhale. Everything is thrown off for a second. I quickly get back in sync. This whole ritual is hanging on me and I’ve no idea what I’m doing. The longer I try, the more frustratingly apparent that is.
But I have to try.
I begin to focus on every inch of my body.
I focus on the muscles of my feet as they press into the ground, keeping me stable as the rest of me feels like it’s trying to fly away.
I focus on my stomach, still doing flips at the way Davien continues to stare at me.
I focus on my physical body to the point that it fades away, as if once my mind understands it, it no longer needs to be considered.
Then…what’s left is song. That thrumming beat I heard when I fell into the fire. The music of ancients, all singing together in a chorus.
That must be the magic. Magic is happiness, warmth, familiarity. Pure power should make someone feel good, after all.
I have to let it go. This wasn’t meant for me. And yet it feels as though it’s one with my blood. As though there’s no way I could ever untangle it.
Holding the necklace tighter, I imagine the power flowing down my arms, much like the magic I saw flowing through the trees the night I tried to escape. Davien’s face is illuminated. I dare not break eye contact. But I can only assume that it’s working.
“Now say the words,” Vena commands softly.
“I give this magic to you. Take the—” I don’t get to finish.
Magic explodes out from me with a sharp snap. I’m sent backward and land awkwardly on Vena. Davien staggers, is brought to his knees. Even Allor is on the ground. The necklace goes flying, skittering across the floor and landing far away from all of us, miraculously unbroken.
Davien curses. “Why didn’t it work?” He looks at Vena and Allor with an accusatory stare. Somehow I’ve avoided his blame and ire.
“It was a first attempt.” Vena helps me off her with a kind smile. At least she’s not cross about how we landed. “Rituals rarely go smoothly the first time, especially ones that are adjusted and adapted as they’re being performed.”
“I need that power,” Davien growls.
“You will have it. And we have time to get it.” Vena stands and brushes unseen dust and dirt from her flowing clothing. “She is safe here as long as the magic is within her. Our borders are secure.” Vena looks at Allor. “Does King Boltov have any inkling of what’s happening here?”
“He has no idea what’s happening in Dreamsong right now,” Allor says a little too easily, and she smiles a little too widely for my liking.
“Then we have time.” Vena extends a hand to me. “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine.” I take her hand and stand, swaying slightly. “A little tired, I suppose.”
“I imagine that would take it out of you,” Vena says thoughtfully. “We should adjourn for the day.”
“But—”
“Exhausting her will do nothing.” Vena interrupts Davien’s objection. “We’ll try again tomorrow. And, Allor, if you hear anything or find anything that might help, let us know.”
“Of course. Now, I should return before any of my fellow Butchers wonder where I’ve gone off to.” She gives a little wave and steps over into the shade of Vena’s throne. With a puff of smoke, she’s gone. I look around the room, searching for where she’ll come up next.
“Don’t try looking for her; she’s likely already out of the city. She has a unique talent for shadow-stepping over long distances, which makes her very useful to us,” Vena says.
“Butchers,” Davien mutters.
“Are you sure we can trust her?” I dare to ask. Vena arches her eyebrows. “What is she giving them?”
“Nothing. They’ve no idea she’s working for us.” Vena seems to bristle at being accused of any ill design when it comes to this arrangement. I suppose I can’t blame her. I am an outsider. But I can’t shake this feeling…
“She’s gone from the High Court for a very long time. Plus, her answers…didn’t you hear how she avoided saying anything direct?” I say.
“You should leave the management of Dreamsong and the Acolytes to me. You focus on regaining your strength so we can try again tomorrow.”
“You mean leave the management to me, don’t you?” Davien says, locking eyes with Vena.
“Of course, Your Majesty. A slip of the tongue. I’m not accustomed to you being here.”
“See it doesn’t happen again.”
“Would you like us to stop working with Allor?” Vena asks Davien and folds her hands before her, clearly confident she already knows the answer.
“No, she’s proved her use. And if she ever steps out of line or becomes not useful…we’ll kill her then.” Davien starts for the door. He pauses, glancing at me. “You—come with me.”
“What?”
“I want to speak to you.”
I glance at Vena, who just shrugs. Thoroughly confused, I follow Davien out of the audience chamber. We emerge in the meeting hall, now empty of all except the various attendants and a few unfamiliar faces in a corner.
Davien puts his arm around my waist, pulls me toward him. His wings unfurl with a shower of sparks.
“What—” I don’t get to finish.
“I’m going to fly unless you tell me not to.” He locks eyes with me once more and our sides melt together.
“Take me away,” I whisper. He wraps me in his arms and leaps for an open archway at the top of the gathering hall. In a breath we’re out of that oppressive building that reeks of our failure to separate the magic from me and into the open air.