Chapter 31 - God of Music
My mother was a more sentimental creature than I ever gave her credit for.
Brietta was delighted when I handed her Freya’s diary, a treasure that my mother had kept hidden away. She said she would pore over it after she convinced Derrick to sit for his coronation portrait.
Since I had to wait for Derrick to return from his portrait sitting, I had changed into my nightgown early and lounged on a couch in the Duke’s chambers. I stitched a leaf pattern into the cuffs of one of his shirts, finally having some peace at the end of the day.
Just as I was finishing off a stitch, a couple of sharp taps rang through the glass behind me. I looked over my shoulder and spied a large black blur on the other side of the stained glass doors.
One of my brothers was on the balcony.
I set down my embroidery hoop and rushed to the doors. I pushed the doors open and my heart sank.
No pink beak—it was Endre. Erik was still missing and there was no parchment on Endre’s leg. Evereon must have decided further communication was not worth the risk.
A decision made much too late.
“Have you seen Erik?” I whispered.
Endre shook his head and flapped his wings to perch on the balcony railing— exactly where our mother had sent Anders Hyton to his death.
My breath caught in my throat as I stood between the doors, too haunted by Mother’s confession of murder to step onto the balcony’s surface.
“A certain Ravenwood sure was naughty, but at least she lived up to the House reputation.”
I turned to the voice at my left—Daigen leaned on the edge of the balcony with a dark cloak hanging around his shoulders, seemingly having appeared out of thin air.
I wanted to bite back at him for slinking around the palace yet doing nothing to help me, but I could not find anger for him. Not when he and I were just trying to save someone who had saved us.
I let out a breath and forced myself to look at him. “Fraleigh still does not want you to save her. I hope she can forgive you once we succeed.”
Daigen’s brow softened slightly, but his mouth formed a thin line and he looked away. “She has not spoken to me since the day your Riyan was born. She should have known better than to think cursing me and shunning me for twenty-two years would stop the will of the Man of the Mountain. You were getting the gift of sorcery whether she liked it or not.”
After witnessing the purity of their love for one another, the continued antagonism between Fraleigh and Daigen made little sense. What else was happening that Daigen refused to tell me?
If only I could ask.
I would just have to mask a question as an observation. “I saw Rosaline around the palace. How strange to see her away from Fraleigh.”
Daigen chuckled. “Ah, so you realized that there are more cogs in my machination than just you and I.” He lifted himself off the balcony’s edge and faced me fully. “Never mind about Rosaline. Seems like you have enough to…handle as is.”
His gaze flicked into the bedroom.
My nails pinched my arms as his barb lodged under my skin. “I have less than two weeks to get into Derrick’s mind and force him to release Fraleigh. I thought you of all people would understand the need to do anything to help someone you lost.”
“Oh, I understand.” Daigen flashed a smile that was anything but friendly. “In fact, I am only here to give you some…validation. Following your heart’s desire has worked, hasn’t it?
I blinked in disbelief. The last thing I ever thought Daigen would give me was validation.
Daigen turned to Endre. “Your parents did not praise you often did they?”
Endre shook his head.
Daigen muttered something in Old Tongue and then turned back to me. “You know what you have to do?”
I gripped my arms. “I slay the monster in Derrick’s mind, then I get him to release the collar.”
A satisfied smile crawled up his lips. “Good, keep getting close to him.”
He leaned against the railing and cocked an eyebrow. “Your other bird-brother is fine, by the way. Just focus on the new Alastar.” He waved his hand toward the darkened bedchamber. “The answers are all around you, Litlnadr. ”
He casually leaned back over the railing, his dark cloak enveloping him so he disappeared into the night. Endre flew off his perch and followed him.
The faint sound of footsteps pounding toward the doorway hit my ears. I stepped inside and locked the balcony doors just as Derrick burst into the room, the crown of Lycaster on his head and his Hyton Blue cape flying behind him.
I quickly stepped away from the doors. “How was your portrait sitting?”
His mouth hardened into a fine line as he removed his crown. “Never happened.”
He flung the crown on a nearby table before unclasping his cape.
I eyed him with suspicion as he undressed. “But Derrick, you have to sit for your coronation portrait!”
He released his cape and started to unbutton his doublet. “That is what Brietta said. She argued with me for two hours. ”
Derrick threw off his doublet and crossed over to the northern side of the room.
“I looked too much like him. ” He stopped in front of the wall and ran his fingers through the roots of his hair. “Fuck, I need to cool down.”
Derrick twisted an iron sconce on the wall and a panel opened. He pulled off his linen shirt as he crossed the doorway into the darkness.
No…it was not just darkness. The cerulean glow emitting from the chamber was too familiar.
Splash.
Curiosity overtook me and I stepped into the darkened chamber. My bare feet met tile. My eyes adjusted to the low light and then they widened—the secret chamber held nothing but a rectangular pool. The subtle glow came from rocks that were submerged beneath the water and embedded into the pool’s walls. No…not rocks, Nordingaard crystals.
Derrick emerged from the surface of the water and rested on the side of the pool. “This is the one good part of having to stay in this awful bedchamber. Incredible, right?”
Incredible was not the word I would have chosen for a secret trove of dozens of illegal crystals. I could lose my head just for owning one, but the Hytons bathed in them.
Derrick dragged his wet curls out of his face. “This pool has water from the legendary healing spring on Nordingaard. Not sure if it actually does any healing, but it stops me from wanting to light something on fire.”
I held my breath. Derrick was swimming in thousands of the Man of the Mountain’s tears. If the healing spring had taken me into Riyan’s worst memories before I even had the gift of sorcery, all that magic could certainly break down the doors of a paper castle.
Daigen was right again. The answers were indeed all around me.
I stepped toward the edge of the pool. “How interesting…mind if I join?”
Derrick’s eyebrows furrowed. “Serafina, you cannot swim.”
I sat down at the edge and eased my feet in. The magic tingled around my skin as I dipped my legs into the glowing water.
I curled my fingers around the stone edge of the pool. I would not drown, my magic would protect me…hopefully. I could at least see the bottom of the pool, but that did not mean my toes would touch.
My eyes found Derrick’s discarded pants and shoes in the corner of the room but I quickly glanced away.
I needed to be in the water with him, skin to skin, just as I had been with Riyan in the real healing spring.
I pulled off my nightgown and tossed it in the corner of the room. I had already seen him nude and he had seen me. We were just humans in bodies.
This was nothing like the Darkest Night.
Just as I was about to shove myself off the edge, Derrick held out his hand. “Here, hold onto me.”
I banished my reservations and took Derrick’s hands as he eased me into the water. Magic swirled around my belly and then my chest as I dipped into the pool. Derrick locked his arms around my waist and pulled me in so my back was securely against his chest. My legs kicked limply in the water, but Derrick was tall enough to stand on the bottom of the pool. He was still too thin, but he had enough muscle in his arms and chest that I was not afraid of him collapsing again.
I let out a breath. My face was above the water. I was fine.
“Just imagine if we could relax like this all the time.” Derrick sighed.
I lifted an eyebrow. “Does anyone get to relax all the time?”
“Fraleigh does.” He chuckled. “Oh, to be the Great Sorceress, living in a palace of gold with every need provided for and only being called to work once a year. She surely got the better end of her arrangement with us.”
Arrangement? Is that what he thought Fraleigh’s forced servitude was?
I tried to keep my voice pleasantly inquisitive instead of disgusted. “What do you mean?”
One of Derrick’s fingers swirled around a strand of my hair in the water. “We protect her, she protects us. You can imagine what the other kingdoms and empires would try to get their hands on her magic, but they pay thousands of marks for the blood bond enchantments instead of stealing the magic for themselves because the entire continent fears her.”
I swallowed. It was exactly as Fraleigh had said, but sounded different coming from Derrick’s mouth—like spreading balm over a festering wound.
“A good portion of Lycaster’s treasury comes from selling those blood bonds—more than you would want to think.” His muscles stiffened behind me. “But that is only one side of it. Everyone fearing Fraleigh means we do not have to spend what little money we have on armies or weapons of siege.”
Did Derrick just admit the entire Lycaster economy relied on selling brides to other countries? How much did the Hytons get just from selling off his sisters?
A tremor in Derrick’s left arm disturbed the water. “You have seen a map of the continent. The Sudrian empire is ten times our size and it is about to collapse. Rokuhama boasts a thousand ships in its navy and is ready to pick up the pieces the Sudrian rebels leave behind. The o-only thing keeping us out of all that c-conflict and from t-total financial collapse…is Fraleigh.”
The weight of his words sank into my chest as his back muscles twitched. His voice broke. “And all s-she has t-to do…is s-sit in her…golden palace.”
He was breaking down. I turned and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my cheek in the center of his chest. “Derrick, stop. Stop. I am here.”
His chin dropped to the top of my head. His jaw trembled. His throat vibrated against my forehead, like his words were stuck and fighting to get out. “I…fuck…I am s-so….fuck!” His hold on me tightened. “I am fucking scared! I am s-scared and weak a-and…!”
He started to shake. I needed to calm him down, but using my magic would make the crystals glow.
“Close your eyes,” I whispered. “Just close your eyes and breathe.”
As soon as his face was buried in my hair, I sent out a wave of magic, waking up the thousands of tears in the pool.
The tears thrummed with power as I sent them swirling into Derrick’s skin, each one a kiss of calmness. He let out a shaking breath over my forehead and the harp music sang in my mind again.
I could hear those chains over those paper castle doors slipping down, one by one. Yes, it was working! Just like with Riyan, the magic in the water was healing him.
The invisible doors to Derrick’s mind slowly creaked open as harp music flooded out of the entrance. The power of the magic around me heated up the water as my magic pushed me toward Derrick’s mind. I traveled down the tether my magic created and entered the space between Derrick’s mind and mine—the dark gap between worlds.
“Sera?”
I knew that voice.
I looked around the dark chasm as the harp in Derrick’s mind played its low melody. I was only ever in that place—that strange in-between—for a blink before entering someone’s mind, but I was frozen as I searched for him.
The tiny Serafina who was suspended mid-travel cried out, where Derrick in the pool could not hear her, “Riyan?”
“Sera?” The voice rich as satin got louder. “Sera! I hear you! SERA!”
The vibrations of the harp swelled until they twisted themselves into a glowing rope in the dark chasm.
Then a horrible voice, layered like eleven men were speaking all at once, filled the darkness. “ You are mine, sorceress. ”
Before I could scream for Riyan, the rope wrapped around my throat and yanked me through Derrick’s open door.
And darkness suddenly became flame.
A crackling hearth appeared in the forefront of the memory. A large portrait of Alastar the Conqueror wearing his steel armor and brandishing his spear hung above the mantle.
The fire from the hearth spread throughout the memory, lighting up portraits and crossed swords on the walls and a large oak desk.
I must have been in the Duke’s study…but what brought me here? The voice that yanked me into the memory was not Riyan’s, nor was it Derrick’s, but I somehow still recognized it.
Was it the monster?
I looked around, trying to find a monster, but instead I found a young Derrick—maybe nine or ten years old—sitting in an overly large armchair in front of the fire.
His cheeks were splattered with freckles as he sheepishly looked at the floor. A wreath of twisted ivy circled his head and a crudely-made lyre sat in his hands.
He looked just like the God of Music from the faerie stories. The God of Music was a little imp, but nothing if not romantic.
Anders stormed into the study. Derrick flinched as Anders ripped the lyre and wreath of ivy away and flung the costume into the fire. Sorrow gleamed in Derrick’s eyes as the flames ate his trinkets.
Anders faced his son. “I swear, had your Uncle Ragnar caught you prancing around the garden like a little girl—”
Derrick looked up. “We were just playing, Father.”
“Playing?” Anders roared. “You are on the cusp of manhood! No more playing with your sisters.”
Sadness filled Derrick’s eyes, but he nodded.
“Your mother made you weak, boy.” Anders crossed to a wooden cabinet and pulled out a glass bottle of spirits. “She filled your head with lies about love and all that Midnight nonsense.”
Derrick looked down at his hands. “Mama does not lie to me.”
“Of course she does, all women do.”
Despite me not having a corporeal form, I still burned with guilt.
Anders poured two goblets of spirits and handed Derrick a glass. Derrick looked down at the cup like it was filled with sewage.
“Drink it,” Anders ordered. He knocked back his own cup and drained it in one gulp.
I knew I could not change what was happening, but I still wanted to yank that goblet out of that poor child’s hands.
Derrick tentatively put the cup to his lips and wrinkled his nose at the strength of the drink inside. He grimaced as he swallowed. “It burns!”
“Get used to it.” Anders poured himself another cup. “You are in for a lonely life, boy, and you will find that your only friends come in bottles.”
Derrick looked into his cup. “My…sisters are my friends.”
“And in a few years, you will never see your sisters again.” Anders swirled his goblet. “They will be off in neighboring kingdoms manipulating their own men soon enough.”
Derrick’s brows furrowed. “My…s-sisters w-would not—”
Anders smacked Derrick on the side of his face so hard that he nearly knocked him out of his chair.
If Anders Hyton were not already dead, I would have killed him.
A red handprint burned on Derrick’s cheek and ear. His eyes brimmed with tears and his mouth was frozen in shock.
Anders leaned over him, his face purple with rage. “What did I tell you about that damn stutter? You cannot be weak, ever, do you understand?”
Derrick blinked out a tear and nodded as his body trembled.
I wanted to hold him. He was just a boy!
“Oh, do not even cry,” Anders growled. “Your grandfather once beat me with a leather strap so hard I could not use a chair for three days. Do you know why?”
Derrick shook his head.
Anders pointed to the portrait of Alastar the Conqueror. “Because we are always compared to him. We cannot show weakness or lack of discipline ever. If we are weak, they will destroy us.”
“Who?” Derrick squeaked.
Anders gripped the arms of Derrick’s chair. “Everyone. You are going to be the Duke of Lycaster. You will not have friends or anyone you can trust. Everyone will try to gain power over you, to use you for their own motives, and you need to know this now…”
He leaned in so his furious Hyton Blue eyes were right in front of his son’s crying ones. “Conquer or die. No weakness.”
Though I wanted to stay with frightened Derrick, the portrait of Alastar the Conqueror pulled my attention away. I stared at his painted Hyton Blue eyes as he stared back at me.
“ You are mine, sorceress. ”
The strange voice was back. An invisible force coiled around my consciousness and squeezed like a vise grip.
I was not alone in the memory.
I quickly released my hold over my magic. The study disappeared into a sea of darkness as I escaped Derrick’s mind.
My mind settled back into my body. Water lapped at my shoulder blades as I opened my eyes to Derrick’s collarbone. He was still, but his chest slowly rose and fell.
Even if he had fallen asleep, his arms stayed locked around me like a vault, keeping my head above the surface of the water.
I clenched my teeth. I wanted to dig up Anders Hyton and burn his corpse for what he had done to poor Derrick, but I had to focus on the monster in his mind.
Whatever was tormenting Derrick presented itself through Alastar the Conqueror’s portrait, but the Conqueror was long-dead.
But I had to get Derrick calm and stable before I could investigate further.
Magic pulsed around my fingers and his blood vessels lit up at my command: “ Derrick, wake up. ”
He inhaled sharply and lifted his face from the top of my head. His heart thudded against my chest and he crushed me against him.
“Serafina!” he gasped. “I…I have no idea what happened. Oh…you could have drowned!”
I shook my head. “I am all right. But you need to go to bed.”
Derrick pulled me out of the pool and we retreated into the bedchamber. He put on his night clothes as I combed my hair at the dressing table. After I had tied off my braid, I turned to find Derrick gripping the back of a chair and staring out the stained glass windows into the night.
His voice was hollow. “You should never see me like that, no one should.”
I turned on my cushioned stool to face him. “Derrick, with everything you have been through—”
“That does not matter.” He closed his eyes and hissed out a breath. “I c-cannot be weak or...”
He slammed his fist against the back of the chair as soon as his sentence failed.
The memory of his father’s harsh words screamed in my mind. I flew across the room and wrapped my hands around his. “You do not have to finish, I understand you. You do not have to—”
“Yes…I…do,” he gritted out.
After a few thudding heartbeats, I rested my forehead against his arm. I had to get him calm. “Everything will be better in the morning, we can just…go to bed.”
Derrick ran a hand through the roots of his hair. “I usually will not find sleep after I…get like this, unless I have a sleeping draught.”
Shit! I should have kept the sleeping potion Mother made. Now I had nothing to get him to sleep.
Nothing except magic.
I chewed on my tongue. My magic was not an invasion, it was an acceptance of an invitation. I was just trying to get Derrick to sleep…but no one was more vulnerable than when they were sleeping.
How convenient for a little serpent like me.
I swallowed. “Do you trust me to get you to sleep?”
He raised his face to meet my eyes and nodded.
I held my breath and pulled him into bed. Bitterness coated the back of my throat, but I glanced at the panel in the northern wall where the shining pool was hiding. Riyan was looking for me, even in the place West of the Moon and East of the Sun.
And if I wanted to ever hear Riyan’s voice again, I needed to slay the monster that tormented Midnight.
My hips rested on the mattress as my hand softly stroked Derrick’s hair. His eyes fluttered closed as I sent bits of magic through my fingertips, giving him peace and weaving him a dream.
The light between his eyes sparkled and the castle doors swung wide open.
I held my breath and dove into Derrick’s mind.