Chapter 17 #2
Alphard ran a hand through his hair, turning from Maeve and shaking his head. “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
Maeve turned without another word, making her way towards Abraxas. Silently, she passed him. He joined her in step, uncertainty radiating from him. They left Alphard there in the corridor.
“What did you do, Maeve?” he whispered. “I am seeing some strange things in my head, and there’s only one Witch I know who has an obsession with memories.”
“I royally screwed up, I think,” she answered as they swiftly made their way back to the Throne Room. “I need to find Maxius.”
“I was sent to retrieve you both,” said Abraxas. He stopped and yanked her back gently. His eyes scanned hers tensely. “Merlin and Primus,” he hissed. “I cannot shake the feeling that something is about to snap in half.”
And it was. Her spell had been splintering and cracking for weeks now. The tear was so large now that it was becoming more painful to hold it together than it would be to let it spiral out of being.
But Maeve couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet. She had to get to Maxius first.
“I know, Brax. I feel it too,” she assured him. “But right now, I need to find Maxius.”
She slid from his tender grip and continued into the main castle.
She felt Maxius arrive as he crossed the protective barriers around Castle Morana, the protective barrier she kept around him solid and unharmed. Thank the gods.
She turned the corner, the grand stairway at her feet, and stalled.
Mal stood at the center of the Entrance Hall, a dazzling smile that held just enough humility to ensure he was beloved by all on his face as he greeted those arriving. His crown of serpents glistened against his dark hair. Zimsy and Maxius stepped through the castle doors.
Maeve gripped tighter on that unraveling Magic swimming through her.
Not yet. Just a little more time. She stepped down, gasped as icy Magic gripped her ankle, holding her in place.
Mal turned, his smile dropping as his green eyes locked on her.
He looked her up and down, his eyes narrowing slightly in disgust. He shook his head in silent command.
The look sent a shock through her chest. She didn’t fight against the Magic keeping her at the top of the stairs. Not with that look on his face.
Mal looked back towards the castle doors as Maxius stepped towards him.
Zimsy released his hand and dropped into a bow before Mal.
Maxius bowed, but kept his excited eyes on Mal.
Mal dropped into a low kneel, coming face to face with his son.
His mouth moved, but Maeve was too far away to hear his words.
Maxius’ face changed, a nervousness taking over all of his boyish features.
He looked into the Throne Room and then back up at Mal.
In front of so many? he signed.
Mal nodded in response. Then he stood and stepped to the side, letting Zimsy and Maxius pass.
The Magic gripping her ankle vanished, and she flew forward at once.
He met her at the base of the stairs, his hands tucked behind his back.
Her heart swelled when she saw flecks of brown and hazel swimming in his eyes.
Hope settled in her bones. She sighed swiftly at the sight of him.
“You didn’t tell him?” she questioned at once, hoping he could sense her gratitude.
Before she could continue, Mal’s eyes flicked up to the top of the stairs behind her. Alphard and Abraxas stood together, arguing heatedly.
“Something to share?” said Mal, his voice carrying up the stairs.
The two looked down at them. Alphard’s jaw tightened.
Abraxas hurried down the steps to Mal’s side. “Everything is ready for you,” said Abraxas.
Mal didn’t reply. His eyes moved up to Alphard, still at the top of the stairs, and then once more to Maeve.
He left them without another word and returned to greeting his guests at the center of the Entrance Hall.
Though Maeve noted his smile was gone. Abraxas lingered by Maeve until Mal cut him a sharp look from the corner of his eye, and Abraxas hurried to his side.
Maeve didn’t wait for Alphard to join her.
She rushed into the Throne Room, her eyes scanning for Maxius.
She spotted him at once in the packed Throne Room.
The upper balconies and galleries were full as well.
Maxius was signing to Arianna. His hands moved so fast and with such enthusiasm, Arianna appeared to have a hard time keeping up. But she didn’t squash his excitement.
Alphard appeared at her side, watching him with her.
“For what it’s worth,” said Alphard, his voice strained. “I will never be angry for the time I had with him.”
“But will he be angry at me?” she asked softly as they stood and watched him.
Without waiting for an answer, she made to move towards him. But Abraxas appeared between them both, grabbing their forearms and hauling them towards the empty throne.
Their new Queen was nowhere to be seen.
“Brax,” said Maeve, beginning her argument.
“Trust me, cousin, just shut up and allow this to unfold without a public scene.”
Maeve bit the inside of her lip and listened as Abraxas continued. The change in his tone told her he knew a bit of truth at last.
“I’m going to pin this stupid new honorary broach on your chest, Alphard,” said Abraxas, “for all your excellent combat in the Elven Lands. And then Mal is going to bring Maxius forward and announce him as his heir. And then, Maxius is going to show everyone all the wonderful Magic Mal has shown him, and then everyone is going to leave in one piece. Yes?”
Maeve and Alphard shared an apprehensive glance at Abraxas’ chaotic order. Neither of them argued as he placed them at the base of the throne dais. Abraxas took his place by the throne as the hall fell silent.
Mal entered with little time for acknowledgment.
What would normally have been a formal walk to his throne was unceremoniously swift and direct, causing an immediate tension to settle in.
Everyone, including Maeve and Alphard, dipped their heads as he passed them.
He did not look at either of them as he ascended the steps to his throne.
Once seated, Abraxas stepped forward and picked up a golden pin from a wooden stand on the dais. He faced the hall and began what Maeve knew at once to be a well-rehearsed speech.
“It is my honor as Hand of the King,” began Abraxas as Maeve dared a look at Mal.
His gaze was fixed on nothing in the distance. A vacant stare on his handsome face. Magic rippled through her, her own spell slicing open wider against her will. A few shifts of breath scattered the hall, and Abraxas stumbled over his words as she struggled to hold the Magic together.
“Stop.”
Mal’s voice was unsettlingly calm.
Abraxas turned towards him and raised a soft brow.
Mal regarded him for a moment and then tilted his head. “Do you serve me, Abraxas? Or another?”
Abraxas nearly faltered beneath the question. Maeve had never seen him under such duress. “You, my King. Always you.”
Mal made a contemplative sound, as though he was undecided if Abraxas was being truthful, and his eyes lifted back to Alphard. “And you?”
Alphard wasn’t dumb enough to let his rage out on Mal, but Maeve felt his temper swell.
“A captain of the Bellator,” continued Mal, “who I recently promoted to commander, now receiving another great honor. Where does your loyalty lie?”
The question was veiled, but clear to Maeve: Mal was aware that Alphard had willingly helped her deceive him. Mal stood and stepped down from his throne, his eyes still on Alphard.
“Do you think a man who swears fealty to another, and then breaks his word, should be honored in my world?”
Alphard scowled. “No, my King.”
Mal circled them with a nod. “On that, we can agree.” His eyes landed on Maxius.
Maeve’s heart hammered against her chest. He held out his hand and beckoned the boy with two fingers.
Maxius looked to Maeve for approval. She offered him a single nod, knowing her protection over him was not easily broken.
Mal’s eyes still held a trace of their true color.
Maxius stepped forward, leaving behind Zimsy, and Arianna, and his cousins.
The tense silence drew out his journey across the long hall.
Mal’s fingers curled around themselves, soft Magic kindling.
His eyes narrowed slightly as the locket around Maxius’ neck pulsed with Magic.
Maeve held a tight breath, realizing, no doubt at the same moment Mal had, that the Dread Locket rested on Maxius’ chest.
When he arrived before Mal, the Dread King looked back at Alphard.
“Continue, Abraxas,” he commanded. “But know this, Mavros.” He looked back down at Maxius. “It is only for his sake.”
Relief swept through her. Relief that swiftly vanished as words spilled from Alphard’s mouth and he stopped Abraxas’ hands from pinning the broach to his uniform. “No.”
“Alphard,” Abraxas snapped under his breath.
Mal looked over his shoulder at him, a confident challenge in his voice. “No?”
Alphard took a step towards Mal, Magic pouring from his palm. “You’re right. I don’t deserve this honor.”
Mal turned towards him fully, standing between him and Maxius. Alphard continued, his temper swelling with each curling movement of his fingers.
“And that’s fine with me,” continued Alphard smugly, “because the next time you bruise her, I won’t just take her from you. I’ll kill you where you stand.”
Maeve moved between them at once. It was only a few steps, but she Obscured, placing her back to Alphard and keeping her eyes on Mal.
“He doesn’t mean that, Mal,” she said swiftly. “There is other Magic speaking for him. Magic that forced him to agree to help me in the first place.”
“Is that what you told yourself, Mavros?” Mal asked. “That you had no say?”
Alphard nearly growled as their Magic pressed towards one another. Maeve continued to try to reason with Mal.
“He made a promise with my brother, a blood pact to protect me.”
Mal’s lip curled. “I’m well aware. I can see it dripping from his hand now.” Their Magic continued to confront the other’s, testing who would snap first. “You know what else I can see?” His arm raised, his eyes never leaving Alphard’s, and pointed at Roswyn. “He bears the same vow.”
Mal nodded triumphantly, right as Alphard tensed.
“And he,” seethed Mal, “did not touch what was mine.”
Maeve’s breath caught.
“You may have forgotten it, thanks to the treacherous viper standing between us, but I made it clear to you that you were forbidden to marry her. Forbidden to touch her in the ways only I should touch her.”
Mal stepped back slightly, his eyes slowly becoming more green, and lingered across Maeve’s body.
“You did both,” said Mal darkly.
Swirls of dark Magic manifested from the ground beneath him, snaking up his legs and wrapping his torso. As it grew higher, the darkness lifted in color, turning iridescent and solid, until Shadow stood clinging to Mal like a vine.
Her voice was almost childlike as she whined against him. “Malachite. Let’s move this along now.”
Hope flickered out like the end of a candle as his eyes became fully green.
“If a fight is what you seek, Mal,” spat Alphard, “then I’ll gladly give you one.”
Shadow moved towards the throne, casually placing herself upon it. Mal made a small sound of disgust and turned towards Maxius. “What a waste of my time that would be.”
Maxius, whose brows were pulled together anxiously as he watched the tension unfold between them, looked up at Mal.
“There’s only one with Magic that could rival mine,” said Mal. “And I know just how to pull it out of her.”
He moved with devastating grace. His arm slid across his front as one slender finger, dripping with Magic, too much Magic for the child before him, crackled across his hand. As he took aim at Maxius, the boy instinctively mirrored the King, pointing one tiny protective finger up at his father.