Chapter 9
Xavier
My palm scraped against the rough wood as I slammed the heavy library doors open with an echoing crash. Gunnar and Julian, who had been at the center of the room, startled, sending books tumbling to the floor and loose papers flying into the air.
“Fates Xavier!” Gunnar boomed, clutching his chest with one hand, the other firm on the table. “I’m too old to be startled like that.”
Gunnar was wearing some sort of sleepwear, though it looked rather outdated. The long gray robe cascaded to the obsidian floor, its center adorned with striking, large yellowish suns embroidered in a line down his chest.
Guilt stirred in my chest, but I ignored their glares as I continued to stride toward them.
“I think I know how to take down their wards.”
The pair of them looked wide eyed in my direction, their brows going into their hairlines.
It was nearing midnight, having flown all day to and from Territan. My mind was still racing from my interaction with Zara and my power stirred under my skin at the thought of her.
The vines on my arm slithered across my skin and coiled around my forearm. It was something they did when I felt powerful emotions. I had barely glimpsed her from the sky, and my entire being had screamed for me to go to her, to claim her, to take her.
The breath had disappeared from my lungs despite my anger. I watched her from above, her chestnut waves swaying in the light breeze. They caught the light in a way that had been both hypnotic and cruel.
Tight leather hugged her thighs and it was a sweet kind of torture. Visions of me tearing them off of her played in my mind, and they were so vivid I practically felt them ripping under my grasp. It had stirred a deep primal ache inside me, wanting nothing but heat and ruin between us.
Her ocean-blue eyes had been the same, yet so different. Gone was their former curiosity and gentleness, now replaced by a dim, cold gaze rimmed with loathing. She had bared sharp fangs, as if daring me to see them, to be repulsed by them.
I wasn’t.
Zara seemed stronger, more muscular, and a fiery rage still burned within me at the extent of the manipulation inflicted upon her body, her mind, her soul.
The flight home had, if only slightly, cooled my rage. The summer air and night sky soothed me, allowing me to gather my thoughts and think clearly for the first time in three weeks. I replayed my interaction with Zara over and over again, and my mind kept snagging on one detail.
“Do we need to learn how to read your mind now, too?” Julian quipped after I had been quiet a beat too long. He was still in the same attire I had seen him in this morning, and I furrowed my brows at them in concern. Had they eaten today? Bathed? Slept?
Pushing my concern aside, I stopped in front of them and cleared my throat.
“Blood.”
Gunnar looked down in thought, and Julian scrunched his nose. “Blood?” he asked wearily, and I nodded. Magic was in our blood, tied to it. The witches fed on blood to amplify their magic, but what else could blood do?
The ward around Territan recognized Zara. I saw it. I knew my mother had created it, but Zara and her magic were connected. From the sky, I watched her reach out and touch it. I saw it ripple, react. It was as if it recognized her, greeted her.
When we wielded magic, it left behind traces—fragments of ourselves tied to each spell, like a signature. I'd always been able to feel the traces of my magic; it was like a faint hum, a quiet pulse of recognition that it was mine. I knew others could feel the traces of theirs as well.
And then there was something Lana had said, something that had stuck in the back of my mind, quietly gnawing at me.
When I asked her how she’d escaped the dungeons, my wards, she mentioned a loophole.
A loophole that ordinary Fae would never consider because they didn’t need it, didn’t rely on it.
I didn’t know for certain, but I felt it was connected.
“Our magic is connected to our blood, in it. Morgana created the ward, but I saw it respond to Zara. Morgana and Zara’s magic are connected. If we can get her blood, do you think you can use it to take down the ward?”
Gunnar leaned up from the table he had been leaning on and met my eyes.
“Blood has been experimented with in the past by other Fae, as we know mostly from the histories with the witches. But the complexity and scale of this ward, blood alone wouldn’t be enough.”
Hope deflated in my chest, and I sighed as I pulled out a weathered chair and straddled it.
Julian looked pitifully in my direction as he started to pick up the fallen papers.
I glanced back at Gunnar, and watched as he stroked his long, gray beard. His eyes refocused on me, and something flickered across his gaze. Turning sharply, Gunnar strode away and began to pace in the middle of the room.
“Let's say this theory does work. We would need an extraordinary amount of blood. Far beyond what any one person would be able to give.” Gunnar’s robe swished at his feet as he continued to pace. “But…”
Julian stopped picking up the scattered papers and turned to watch Gunnar pace, listening intently.
“But maybe there is a loophole…” Gunnar muttered, almost to himself.
Hope sparked again in my chest. “Yes, a loophole,” I said quickly, and Gunnar stopped pacing, his gaze returning to mine thoughtfully.
“That’s what that witch Lana said she used to escape our dungeons,” I explained. “A loophole, and I thought…” My chest tightened as I trailed off. I'm still not sure what I thought, but I continued anyway. “I think it has to do something with blood.”
Gunnar resumed his pacing, and Julian eyed me as he took a seat at the table across from me, his focus fixed on Gunnar.
“Again, in theory, if Lana were to have your blood, she might have been able to trick the wards into believing she was you, if only briefly.”
My fingers tightened on the chair, the wood creaking beneath the pressure.
“It's not impossible,” Gunnar whispered. “She is your half-sister. You come from a similar bloodline and, from what you have reported, she seems to have a similar power signature. Different, of course, but equally powerful.” Gunnar stopped pacing and turned fully toward us. “If she were to have mixed your blood with hers, she might have been able to confuse the ward. It wouldn’t have worked for long, just a second, enough for her to shadow away.”
My heart was thundering at this theory, but my face fell. “I don’t think she can shadow; besides, how would she have gotten my blood?”
The room was silent for a beat, and then Julian spun shouting suddenly.
“They stabbed you!” Julian said it with such gleeful force that it made Gunnar and I both jump. “I bandaged you up that night! Was it her? Did Lana stab you?” Julian's eyes were practically saucers within his dark frames, and they had a wild glint to them.
“No,” I replied softly, frowning, trying to remember that night. “It wasn’t Lana. It was...some burly woman. But Lana was half-pinned under a tree near where it happened. She could have picked up the dagger, but I can’t say for certain. I didn’t check.”
“If these events played out as we are theorizing,” Gunnar stated, “then we might be able to do the same with the ward. Not bring it down, but at the very least get past it.”
“What are we waiting for?” Julian shouted, pulling out a long, jagged dagger from fates knew where. “Let's test this!”
Julian cut a large gash down his palm and started practically running at me, lifting the blade.
“Whoa!” Jumping from my chair, I shadowed behind him, watching as Julian’s foot caught on his robe and he toppled over, crashing into the chair I had been sitting in seconds ago.
I winced as he fell to the floor with a smack, the dagger bouncing off the stone floor in a clatter and sliding away from him.
“Julian,” Gunnar scolded, striding toward him. “Your blood and his would not work. Didn’t I just explain that her blood might have only worked because they are from the same bloodline, the same power signature?”
Gunnar loomed over Julian, who was on the ground.
Julian lowered his head like a child caught doing something wrong, but then he snorted.
“Well, I guess we can thank our lucky stars for that,” he said, a smirk directed my way as he got to his feet.
He glanced sheepishly at Gunnar, scratching the back of his curly blond hair. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I'm just tired.”
“We're all tired,” Gunnar sighed, and now that he was closer, I saw how pale his face was. “It's a good theory, but we can test it tomorrow. I think we could all use some rest.”
*
The early morning sun streamed in through the large wall-to-ceiling window of the dining hall, casting a golden glow on the rolling landscape.
Hills and lakes shimmered in the low light.
Everyone was seated at the table, heads bowed and bodies slumped.
From the look on their exhausted faces, I knew no one had gotten proper rest last night.
Theo and Dedra were leaving to travel back to the ward today, and my stomach twisted with guilt for not joining them, yet again. But we had to test this theory, and unfortunately, that meant I needed to pay a visit to my uncle.
As I ate at the head of the table, my gaze swept over my friends.
Gunnar was yawning and idly pushing food around his plate, lost in thought.
To his left, Theo was shoveling a bizarre mix of bacon, eggs, oats, and what appeared to be jam into his mouth like a ravenous beast. Julian, sitting opposite, had paused his own meal to watch Theo with a scrunched-up face as he continued to cram more food in.
Dedra had also paused to look at her brother and Theo finally seemed to notice our stares.
Theo, looking surprised, dropped his spoon into his bowl and looked at all of us. “What?” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.
“You’re being disgusting,” Dedra drawled, leaning back in her seat and sipping from a large silver goblet.
“I’m hungry,” Theo said gruffly, straightening in his chair, practically puffing out his chest.
“You’re always hungry,” Dedra replied, rolling her eyes.
Theo swallowed his food and smiled broadly at her, flashing his teeth. “It's why I’m the stronger twin.”
Dedra scoffed, setting down her goblet and leaning forward. “Wanna bet?”
“Any place, any time, sis.”
“If you’re going to argue, please take it outside. I have a headache,” Gunnar replied, having finally looked up from his plate, his face even paler than I had seen it last night.
Theo frowned at him—so did the rest of us.
“Another time then,” Theo said, turning back to Dedra with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
There was a beat of silence, but then, as if remembering something, Theo smirked and leaned toward Julian. “Speaking of strong men, how has your time with Randikus been, Julian?” He arched an eyebrow. “Seems you two are getting cozy.”
With a chuckle, I reached for my goblet of water and watched Julian’s eyes widen, a flush creeping up his cheeks.
Randy had been busy traveling to camps these past few weeks, but he’d visited recently to report on a few matters.
Even in that short time, I noticed how they gravitated towards each other.
The stolen glances, the subtle shifts when near each other.
And I definitely noticed the letters. A few had even landed in my hands by accident, Julian snatching them back before I could read more than a glimpse.
But from what little I'd seen, it was evident that things were progressing very well between them.
“We are, well, we aren’t—what I mean is…” Julian stammered, clearly scrambling for the right words.
A movement to my left startled me, causing me to leap from my chair. Gunnar had slumped and was falling toward the floor, his chair scraping backward. I managed to catch his head just before it hit the stone, and everyone was instantly on their feet.
Blood trickled from Gunnar's nose and I laid his now unconscious body gently onto the cool stone. A hush fell over the room, no one dared to breathe.
I should have asked if he was feeling well, I could sense something was wrong. Seeing him sprawled on the floor like this, unmoving, it was the first time in centuries I truly saw his age.
Julian was at my side, his hand hovering over Gunnar’s chest. He let out a sharp breath, his gaze slicing to meet mine.
“His vitals are weak, very weak. He needs rest.” Julian’s face pinched. “He is malnourished and sleep-deprived.” Julian shook his head, looking back down at our friend. “This is my fault. I should have seen, should have noticed. I should have—”
“No,” I breathed. “It's mine. This is on me, Julian.” I shook my head. “I asked too much from you both, I—”
A sharp pain shot through my skull, and I gasped as I pitched forward, hands flying to my head.
My vision began to blur at the edges, and it felt as though blades were piercing a barrier in my mind.
I felt myself fall as if in slow motion, and collapsed beside Gunnar on the floor, falling into a memory.