Chapter 2
“Please,” a man pleaded. “I don’t want to die for one mistake.”
Imani couldn’t see him, but she imagined him on his knees.
“We can’t afford to break any pieces of the treaty right now, Your Highness. We need to bide our time,” one of Kiran’s master witches said. His voice sounded low and smooth, unbothered by the man’s whimpers.
“How were you able to cross so easily? And with women and children, too?” Saevel added.
“Word is spreading that the queen just died, along with the First Witch. With the Fabric event that rocked Stralas this afternoon, this is all but assured, but rumors are also saying Dialora’s son has been crowned king. Chaos is reigning, and the borders are now unprotected at many checkpoints.”
Imani’s stomach dropped. She’d anticipated this would happen—fuck, she had passed the intel to the Illithiana brothers herself—but clearly, it had happened. Yet, with the ordeal she’d just endured, and the magic pulsing in her body, something was horrifically wrong if people thought Tanyl was king.
He was up to something, and so was Meira, and it terrified her.
A beat of silence passed before Saevel growled, “That can’t be right.”
“It’s true! It’s true!” the man cried. “But unlike last time, this succession will likely be a bloody one. There’s dissent amongst the nobles and the military over Tanyl’s claim.
Half the Northern Kingdom’s high sentinels are hunting for the lost Essenheim heir, while the other half are shoring up defenses with the new king.
Everyone is saying it could be a civil war. ”
Her mind reeled. How could so many oppose Tanyl’s succession? He had been the heir apparent since birth. What proof did they have? He must have pulled off the matricide days after they’d left, and the crown’s power alone would be enough to quell any civil war rumors.
Right?
Unless he wasn’t the true monarch. But then, how was he fooling so many people right now?
Sweat mixed with blood dripped down her brow at the thought that this had something to do with what had just happened to her in the woods. But without a conversation with Meira, whatever had happened remained a mystery.
More and more unanswered questions tumbled around in her mind. Head aching, she tried to shake off the remnants of the dull, throbbing pain, and her worries about something terrible happening to Meira.
The death of the Essenheim king or queen was traditionally a celebration.
It exalted their return to nature of their own accord—passing their crown on to the next because it was time for the cycle to renew.
But to have two monarchs successively murdered to force a power exchange was bordering on tyrannical, and Imani wondered if Tanyl could truly handle it.
The situation would take more than a charming smile and diplomacy to keep everyone from the high-bred noblemen to the hobs in line.
A long, tense moment passed, then a loud clanging made Imani jump. A man grunted, and Imani leaned closer to listen to the scuffle.
In a rush, Kiran’s intense shield barreled out in a wave, pummeling Imani just outside.
The spell sucked the air from her lungs, tightening an invisible noose around her, threatening to snap harder and break her neck.
It would, too, because he was so much stronger than her, and when his magic pressed harder, her vision swayed.
Already weakened from her episode with Meira, she braced herself against the canvas to stay upright.
Her darkness encircled her, hissing at the invasion, protecting her.
The fight didn’t last long. Eventually, Kiran’s immense shield relented.
Imani rubbed her throat, grateful to the wisps of shadow tickling her limbs.
Both princes’ voices grew clearer and louder the closer they came to the tent’s opening, and Imani’s heart pounded as she hid herself with more darkness.
The flap opened, and a man’s body tumbled outside and onto the ground with a thud.
Imani had had enough. The chances of being seen racked up every second she stayed, so she slipped from the shadows as fast as she dared.
A sizzling sound at her back made Imani wince, and her nose wrinkled when the distinct smell of burning flesh hit her. Kiran had incinerated another victim.
Back inside Imani’s tent, Esa snored softly and mumbled incoherently in a deep sleep.
Imani’s breath escaped her in a relieved sigh. Taking out her wand, she cast an alteration spell to clean herself up. When the dress and her face showed no signs of the disgusting blood and mud, she wasted no time calling her shadows.
She asked them to hide the new magic that was likely pulsing from her signature. Please, shroud this new magic in darkness, making it just a caress of power to those around me.
Then she cast an intense glamour. The darkness shimmered over her, and Imani knew it was powerful, but she’d had to cast a flesh magic glamour in Niflheim to feel safe, truly, and that just wasn’t possible here.
Nerves bit at the edges of her mind. There was no going back now; she’d just have to hide until she could deal with this new revelation and control the immense magic.
She’d wondered if her shadows, cast alongside an illusion spell, would work the way she needed them. Her hands shook at the possibility of someone discovering this secret, and she tried to shake them out and calm down. She’d never used them mixed with illusion magic to hide something.
Sighing, she put her wand down and collapsed in bed. She’d done all she could. Soon, she would learn the truth.
Deep danger would follow her everywhere—thanks to Meira—and the only path forward was to see how this would eventually play out between her and her sister. So, she’d have to hide and wait for their reunion.
Imani had a feeling it would be a bloody one. Why was everything with her family so complicated?
“Imani, it’s time to get up.” The pixie jerked the blanket from Imani’s body.
With bleary eyes, Imani stared up at Esa’s beautiful face.
Esa stood dressed in her traveling clothes, which were made of dark blue wool.
A waistcoat jacket was paired with it, featuring a fitted black lace collar that stood up at the back of the neck and tapered down.
She appeared comfortable yet fashionable in the ensemble, and had even added a petite emerald velvet hat that matched.
Her blue hair was pulled out of her face, showing off the discerning gleam in her eyes.
She looked lovely, and Imani knew her plain, gray traveling dress was nothing in comparison.
Imani tugged on her furs until they completely covered her head and pinched her eyes closed against the reality of the day.
She just needed a few more minutes to dream and pretend her life was someone else’s.
Everything was so much more complicated now, and without the Drasil, she just kept digging herself into a hole she couldn’t crawl out of.
She was weak right now, and she hated feeling weak.
But imagining someone else’s life was a pointless musing.
With a snarl of frustration, Imani shoved the blankets off her and rubbed her eyes. Her hands shook, like they always did when she was nervous, but she forced them to be still. She would never show those weaknesses in front of these people.
So, Imani dressed with purpose, repeating the mantra that worries, jealousy, and heartbreak were worthless. Truly, some thoughts were a waste of time. She had to prepare for what was to come, and that meant keeping her head focused on the present and future.
Clothes didn’t matter for the time being, getting enough sleep didn’t matter. Surviving this trip to Niflheim was all that mattered, because Imani’s life was hanging by an even thinner thread after last night.
Loud shouting drew Esa and Imani out of their tent, where they saw servants had already started to dismantle everything. Instead of watching her belongings like she normally did, Imani strained her neck to see the source of the noise. Esa did the same.
They wrapped their cloaks tighter against the chilling wind coming from the border. It was already dark with another oncoming storm brewing, and Imani knew from growing up here that such tempests were relentless in Niflheim.
Orange flames burst to life over the river, and after another minute, one of the bridges across it was entirely engulfed in fire. People who were trapped jumped through the heat and into the river, some falling to their deaths or later drowning in the treacherous current.
Pushing her now-wet tangled hair off her face, Imani turned to Esa. The pixie’s forehead wrinkled with concern, and her mouth thinned.
Fights were breaking out near the tents, and both she and Esa whipped out their wands at the threat.
The situation at the border was quickly growing more dangerous by the second.
There were still two large bridges open.
They were big enough to fit their entire caravan single-file, and each was completely unmanned, so people ran across from Niflheim, holding wands or swords in the air, their eyes wide with a determined fury.
“The patrols are gone!” Imani shouted to Esa over the din of the chaos. This was obvious, but Imani didn’t reveal what else she knew about the disappearing border agents.
Esa didn’t reply immediately, swiveling her head to glance at two more fights breaking out near the front carriages.
As a male stumbled past in a security forces uniform, his hands full of clothes and jewels, Esa grabbed him by his collar and pressed her wand into his neck. “Where do you think you’re going? What’s happening?”
His eyes widened, and he held up one hand in surrender, dropping several items. “Please, I didn’t do anything.
These are mine. I-I … With no true monarch and no First Witch, they can’t make us stay.
None of us wants to stay here anymore with the constant storms, and the magic coming from the Dark Kingdom … Please just let us go.”
“Give me all this shit.” Esa knocked everything from his hands, watching it tumble to the ground.
None of it was his—Imani could see that plain as day.
They were probably confiscated master witch items that the border patrol had seized during a crossing.
Shoving him to the ground, Esa kicked him. “Go! Get out of my sight!”
“Cowards,” Imani mumbled before turning back to face Esa. “What do we do now?”
“We’re bound to Niflheim and the princes,” Esa said. “We should—”
Suddenly, there was a loud crack. Lightning skittered across the river, flashing over one of the intact bridges. Part of it crumbled and caught fire. The rainfall grew heavier and faster. With only one bridge passable, the coaches lined up.
Esa started to head that way, and frantic to get to her own belongings and protect them, Imani had no choice but to follow. She’d strike down anyone who attempted to pilfer her trunk—everything in there was essential to her.
The wind picked up. Rain now fell in thick sheets all around them, and Imani could barely see a few feet in front of her.
As they got closer, Imani’s eyes strained to watch two figures at the front, standing on top of a large carriage.
The fear amongst the servants grew palpable, but the master witches had their wands out and were working to protect the party.
At the helm, the dark princes cast magic that spread out for at least a mile in a raging storm that now appeared to be man-made because of the deep purple color of its clouds and the sheer size of the golden raindrops.
Their combined spells appeared to be protecting the entire company, which stood a few hundred strong.
Saevel roared, casting the most powerful rain magic she’d ever seen, while Kiran stood watching the madness with a look of boredom on his face.
But with his wand raised in the air, she knew he was putting out immense magic as she watched it emit cracks of electricity that grew and expanded in the sky overhead, booming and thundering as the lightning attacked.
They looked like gods.
The Serpent Prince turned around and stared up at the clouds with purpose.
His free hand clenched into a tight fist at his side, his eyes wide and focused, and all the corded muscles in his neck and arms were tense.
His hair and clothes were wet and completely disheveled, sticking to the lean muscles of his chest and arms, but he didn’t seem to care.
The magic tentacles shooting out of his body were real enough that they seemed to be tearing through his skin as he lifted his wand and worked to control the storm in the sky.
The hair on Imani’s nape stood up. For a moment, she thought she could make out obsidian black wings that spread out slightly behind Kiran.
It had to be her mind tricking her when the lightning flashed, nothing more.
But with his signature pulsing around him, he created an enormous darkness, as if the entire realm could not contain him; could not contain the monster inside, or his powers.
An eerie feeling passed. His darkness reminded her of her own.
But there was no time to dwell as a heavy lightning spell erupted from his wand, and the storm boomed, shaking the ground.
Blood spurted from huge gashes across their attackers’ chests, and many of them collapsed in a wave with each falling over, one after the other.
It had taken time for whatever magic he’d cast to build, but once it had, the spell cut down anyone in Kiran’s radius within seconds. Even while calling it back, Kiran’s spell continued slashing the air around him, and power still vibrated through the area, unlike anything Imani had ever felt.
The sheer show of magic cowed everything and everyone in the area into a terrified, shaking state. Exhausted, small groups barely milled about, and people plopped onto the ground as they took time to recover from the onslaught that was Kiran’s power.