Chapter 35
“No one could prepare for this battle,” Tsan said for the tenth time.
I nodded, eyes wide and unblinking. I wasn’t mad at him for the lack of reassurance. After a night of using my magus power to help the sickest demons in the realm, I’d returned to the fortress and finally closed the door on awe-filled expressions.
The first queen.
The first demon that a king had ever yielded to.
“Did you speak with Athira?” I murmured, safe in the knowledge that my circle of ghostly kings wouldn’t let any part of our conversation escape. They stood in silent vigil, and their presence was a comfort. If anyone knew what I was feeling, it was them.
Tsan cleared his throat. “She said it was obvious that Tyran was going to select you for Carmine’s replacement. She can’t believe you didn’t see it.”
I closed my eyes, swaying slightly. I was exhausted—inside and out. If there was a solution to this, one I could feel confident in, then it eluded me for now. “Funny how she didn’t mention anything.”
“She was being held hostage, and then tortured.” Tsan reminded me. “But she had seen Tyran use a similar strategy before. He built up your father before he was crowned in the same way, and apparently, he built up Carmine in the eyes of the realm before crowning him too.”
Might have been nice to have advanced warning.
I felt Tsan’s focus on the side of my face.
“There is a way out of this,” he said. “There’s a solution and a plan.”
I blew out a breath. “I know. I just need to rest first. Except Tyran knows I’m exhausted. I don’t want to let my guard down.”
One by one past kings bowed, and a lump rose in my throat.
Tsan smiled. “Looks as though you have people to protect you. I’ll go now, and tomorrow or at the last minute, we’ll sort this out.”
The comment dragged a small smile to my lips. That sounded about right. “Be careful. If I’m in danger, so are you.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
I snorted and opened a portal to his room.
My only friend stepped through, and after closing it, I scanned my circle of kings. “What a day.”
I searched their ranks until finding Utyrth. He was the most stooped of them, and I’d come to realize he couldn’t stand tall under the weight of his shame. His line had suffered for millennia because of his choice. He’d inflicted this fate on every demon here.
“Utyrth,” I said softly. “You didn’t know what would happen. Don’t hang your head.”
He lifted it enough to meet my gaze. “I knew enough, young queen.”
“You can’t have known what it would truly be like. Even I can’t know for sure, and I’ve been a close witness to Carmine’s torment. Only those who Tyran has trapped can really understand. You’re not to blame. You trusted a friend, and you wanted to do right by the realm.”
“She misled me,” he whispered, hanging his head again. “But I should have suspected that her ambition had outgrown her heart.”
Could I stand up for Neti?
No. I’d seen her conversation with Uryrth long ago, and though she’d informed the first king of how he’d lose himself, she hadn’t informed him that the Istg would take over five thousand years to conquer Tyran. She hadn’t mentioned that he was condemning all of his descendants to the same fate.
Had Neti known this battle would continue for five thousand years?
There was an element to Istg magic that seemed to foretell the future.
I’d watched them celebrate my father’s coronation because they’d known, or guessed, that Carmine would be thrown in the dungeons—which was in their territory.
They’d known their influence may give him more ability to resist Tyran.
Perhaps they hadn’t needed to tell the future to put all of that together, but in my opinion, Uryrth had every right to be pissed.
He said, “Do not trust her, young queen. Use her, as she will use you.”
I nodded. “I’ve reminded her what she owes this line of kings, and I’ve let her know that any help I give comes with the condition of saving Carmine, if he can be saved. I will be on my guard.”
“Then you shall be smarter than I was in life,” the king replied, closing his eyes.
Of all possible company, that of ghosts felt most fitting and right tonight. “Thank you all for being here, and for keeping me safe.”
They bowed again, and I scanned their faces, stopping on another king who was stooped with his face hidden. “Why do you hang your head, demon king?”
He didn’t lift his head. “Because I loved a magus, and I left her alone to protect our children. My imagined terror of her last moments plagues me. Witnessing the struggles of my orphaned children fills me with shame. I was so tired of being used by him, and that is all the excuse I have. I feared that the protection their mother gave me would be inadequate to spare the lives of our children.”
I squinted. “Father?”
He lifted his head, and I saw… myself. In Tempest, I had always seen Mother. In myself, in my eyes, I had always seen Grandmother. But the rest of my features and my stature, I could immediately see them in this ghost.
“Daughter,” he whispered.
He’d been one of the first kings to arrive in my silence circle, and I’d never considered that my father would be one of these kings.
Any number of emotions warred for first place.
This was my father. I’d never felt particularly curious about him in my younger years, but that had changed in recent months.
“You’re saying that Mother figured out how to combat Tyran’s power? ”
He nodded, still stooped. I could tell that if he stood straight, he would be among the tallest of the present kings. “Magus power is the antidote for demon power. You have felt this.”
I had. And demon power was the antidote for magus power too. The stronger magic would win. “How did it work?”
“Through my sword.”
I blinked. “Your sword that you charged with Istg power from the desert.”
“Yes, it contained more than their power. Tyran’s hold was weaker on Earth back then.
He was not always aware of what I could see and do, yet he would allow me to visit Earth under the guise of monitoring the gates.
My Hazeluna filled the sword with her power, encasing the Istg magic within to hide it from Tyran’s notice.
She created a trap within the sword too.
Whenever Tyran placed the crown upon my head, or whenever he took me to stand in the Crave Arena after Tiers was complete for the year—or whenever he forced me to kill a victor and drain them of restored white magic—then I would grip the hilt of my sword.
His magic would filter into the sword and become trapped in her magic.
She would add more of her power to the sword whenever the magic of the trap faded.
We did not have much time together—painfully little—but your mother returned enough of me in that time that I could fight back in a small way.
I managed to keep Carmine alive, though I’ll admit that part of me did so for selfish reasons.
I wished to be free, but Tyran could also feel that his hold on me was slipping.
He didn’t dare risk me visiting the dungeons in the end, in case I was able to regain even more of myself there.
Ultimately, the love your mother held for me was what forced Tyran to free me.
I got what I had wished so deeply for, and yet freedom came with a price. Guilt weighs on me in death, always.”
Pride for my mother burned in my chest, and sadness for my father. Finally the mystery of my father’s unusual resistance to Tyran was solved. “Mother always did love a trap.”
“She trapped a five-thousand-year-old demon,” my father answered, smiling after. “He never did figure it out.”
“She also kicked Tyran’s ass not long ago,” I told him. “As a ghost.”
Hope lit his gaze. “Did she speak of me?”
My heart clenched. “There wasn’t time to speak with her. She was busy protecting her—your—grandson.”
“My grandson,” he whispered. “I have seen him. He will be great.”
“If he gets the chance, then yes. I believe he will be.” I rubbed my face. “How did you know to take your sword to the desert, and about the dungeons?”
He smiled. “That was your mother too. Unbeknownst to me, qer had stolen my sword to charge it with Istg power in the desert. Your mother sensed the white magic in the blade, and I could sense the difference between that white magic and Tyran’s.
I uncovered the truth from there, though I never had contact with Neti.
The few conversations I had with the Istg were through Hge in the dungeons. ”
I couldn’t wait to fill Carmine in on all of this. “The time you gave Carmine in the dungeon was more important than you know. You fought Tyran against all odds. Please don’t hang your head.”
My father’s eyes shone, and his voice was gruff. “I will think on your words, daughter.”
Daughter. I never thought that I’d hear that word from my father.
I sighed. “Don’t suppose there are any ideas from the group on how to defeat Tyran before he turns me into the next body slave?”
Carmine’s father stepped forward. “This coronation grants you an opportunity, daughter-in-law. To enter your body, Tyran must leave my son.”
“So we catch him between?”
His father shook his head. “This circle has discussed the matter at length, and we believe Tyran must be within a host to be destroyed. Otherwise, there is a risk he will enter another source to rebuild power before seeking another host.”
My voice was hollow. “I don’t know if I can survive the healing. I don’t know if Carmine can. And I don’t trust Neti to want to keep us alive either.”
“There’s something that a past king knows that no one could,” he said next.
“Tyran leaves enough of his power in the previous host to keep them weak and sluggish until the new ruler can kill them. In that moment, his power is split. You already know that he transfers to the new host through his crown. There is a small opening of time between the crown landing on your head after Tyran leaves Carmine, where the small volume of white magic freezing my son for slaughter could be healed. If you wait until the crown is on your head, then Tyran will make you sever the mating with Carmine, then slay him before reabsorbing the magic left in his body.”
“Except Tyran no longer has a crown,” I said. “So what will Tyran use to transfer from Carmine to me?”
“The arena?” another king suggested.
I shook my head. “Not if the qer were successful. But I agree, that moment where he leaves some power in Carmine but is otherwise in the crown or other object is the point of weakness. The nismus can heal Carmine of that, and that will mean less healing for me.”
“What of my mate?” Carmine’s father said. “Athira is strong, and she would be willing to sacrifice her life for her son, and the future of her grandchild.”
But not for the mother of her grandchild. I bit back a grin.
My father replied, “There is too much meaning in my daughter’s position in this. She is part magus, which we know gives her unique resistance.”
“I’ve never resisted his magic,” I said honestly. “I’ve never been aware of what he’s made me do until after Neti has healed me.”
“You have not been the primary vessel,” he countered. “That is where the mind of Tyran resides, and his mind must coexist with that of his vessel. That is how it’s always been.”
True.
My father continued, “You’re mated to the current king, and you’re to be crowned. Your mother believed in such signs, and through her, I came to believe markers of fate exist. As much as I wish another could take your place, you are meant to fight this battle, daughter.”
I looked into his eyes, and despite his pearly presence, I knew his eyes would be crimson in keeping with his smoke. “I hope to know you better, if this all works out.”
His eyes filled with sadness. “I would enjoy that, daughter.”
I really had to get some sleep, even if I didn’t want to sacrifice one of my three nights left before this ended.
I rested back, but then asked him, “The sword you commissioned at the smithy’s. Why didn’t you take it?”
“That was a superior sword,” he said wistfully.
“But when I took it to your mother, she said it would not hold her magic, the Istg’s magic, and her trap at the same time.
She needed something broader and sturdier.
I took the sword back and switched with another there that seemed to fit her description. ”
The thought of a warrior selecting an inferior sword because of his lover’s demands brought a smile to my lips.
“And,” he added, “I had learned a few days earlier that Hazeluna carried our twin daughters. I had felt the nature of you both. How magnificently nature had shifted to allow the two of you to occupy one womb. You each had just enough of the opposite power to act as an antidote for the presence of the other twin. In this way, your powers did not attack one another. But I could see that where one of you would be more like her mother, the other would be like me. I looked at the superior sword, and I wished for my daughter to have such a weapon instead of me.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Never thank me, daughter,” he said harshly. “I have wronged you greatly in life.”
If I had done to Adeuto what he had done to me, perhaps I’d feel that same guilt.
I felt ample guilt as a parent without doing any of those things.
But that guilt was designed to encourage mothers and fathers to do better whenever they could.
It had its place, as long as it was not allowed to rule us.
If I made it to a fourth day, then maybe I’d get a chance to heal my father’s heart.
As it was, exhaustion was dragging me under at last. “I forgive you.”
I couldn’t be sure if his reply was a figment of my imagination.
“Sleep, and know that kings will not let the tyrant harm you.”