“As were we all,” Ilyan cut in as he and the others clustered around the foot of my bed. “We were contemplating beginning school without you, but you seem to not want to miss out on the first day.”
My father smiled like the dads in television sitcoms did when their children learn some life lesson about magic and friends and not hurting people. The look didn’t suit him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better, My Lord.” I nodded my head, thankful I could do so that time. “All the pain is gone. Everything feels…” I hesitated, actually struggling to find the right word. “Powerful.”
It wasn’t quite right, but everyone smiled anyway; Ilyan giving a nod to Mira who took two quick steps to me, holding out her hand.
Oh my god. I was going to get to touch her. I could die happy right here.
“That’s good to hear. Now, Mira needs to check your injuries as well as your magic, Miss Demarco. The Queen has already healed the power you were given and centered your magic so it is ready for use. But we need to make sure everything is working well.”
I nodded again, feigning hesitation as I placed my hand in hers.
Her hands were so soft, so warm, so much better than I had imagined. I almost smiled, well, until her magic flooded through me. The power feeling like hot knives digging into everything. I cringed and tried to pull away, but she held on tighter.
“Don’t worry, it only takes a second,” she said, sounding as bored as if she was arranging flowers. I was sure she had yawned, meanwhile, I was being stabbed to death internally.
God. Could she get any cooler?
“Everything is in working order,” She said, dropping my hand and stepping back to the king. “I can see her strength causing problems for the first little bit, but she seems tough. I got through it. I’m sure she can do just as well.”
“Unless she manages to kill a ghost, a maniac and take down an entire government before she turns fifteen, I doubt that’s a possibility,” Ryland said, peering around Ilyan to give his wife a smirk, one that she promptly returned.
Holy shit. An entire government? She just got cooler.
Right then it was hard to see them as the enemy.
“What do you say, Miss Demarco, are you up for the task?” Ilyan asked, his blue eyes pulling me from his brother.
“Yes,” I gasped.
I wasn’t sure which task I was agreeing to, however. Both the King and my father were looking at me with equal glares of expectation.
“Good, then we will send you to the Academy tomorrow evening so you may spend the few days before start of term getting settled in. You may spend the rest of your day with your parents inside of Imdalind. I understand this is a rare treat and the Skȓíteks outside the Hospital will be glad to give you a tour. They will assist you if you have any questions.”
“I do have a question,” my father cut over whatever Ilyan had been about to say, his voice weirdly subservient. Fitting seeing as his back had begun to curve into a bow. “A question that only my king and his advisors can answer.”
Ilyan’s jaw tightened, Ryland looking between the king and my father before he spoke, “Well, what is it, Giovanni.”
My mother sat still, phone forgotten, looking between me and my father who was now winding his hands one over the other as he exhaled, shuffling his feet in what was unmistakenly nerves.
Nerves.
My father was never nervous.
And I thought I was good at these games. I had clearly been taught by a master.
“As you know, my daughter went through quite the ordeal in an effort to receive her magic,” he began with a bit of a stutter, Ilyan sighing in such a way that it was clear he had heard all of this before. “And we are grateful that she was allowed entry. But she has scars, and even knowing that her attacker is at the same school has caused her great anxiety.” He paused again, hands still winding as he turned to me, fixing me with a dark look. The threat was clear.
I quickly rearranged my features, forcing out a stuttering breath.
“I don’t know… I mean… Is that girl safe?” I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to be playing into here, so I tried a few statements before my father's eyes brightened, pointing me in the right direction. “I want to feel safe at school, your majesty.”
“We want everyone to feel safe in our world, Miss Demarco, it has always been our focus. While I understand that having Gemma present at Imdalind Academy may be causing you distress, we can assure you that measures have been taken to secure everyone's safety and to help Gemma learn to manage her magic responsibly.” Ilyan’s voice was calm, understanding, and firm enough that the whole thing felt too rehearsed. “Rest assured that if there is any further steps that need to be taken to ensure your safety, we will do it.”
Ilyan took one step back, clearly ready to leave the conversation, and the situation behind him. The look he gave my father was one of finality. My father was not one to back down in any situation, but with the king...? He couldn’t.
Even I gasped as he stepped toward the powerful Eternal. My heart was in my throat, my magic retreating in fear as the two faced each other head-on.
“There is one thing, my lord,” my father said, his voice firmer now. Ilyan stopped his retreat, eyes narrowing. “You could offer her an escort for the first few months of the school year. Help her get her feet. Help her feel safe.”
“An escort?” Ryland laughed, before turning to the king and mumbling something in Czech. The language only the Eternals were to know, and one I had been studying since I was small.
If I was going to be an Eternal, I might as well know their language.
“Why do I have a feeling I know what nonsense he is about to throw our way?” Ryland asked his brother, the sounds so low and quick that I wasn’t quite sure I had heard him correctly.
“Quiet brother,” the king answered, his voice a low rumble. “Hear the man out. Again.” Ryland stepped back, Ilyan’s gaze still boring into my father as he switched back to the common language. “What are you asking for, Giovanni?”
“It is your son’s first year at the school as well. As you are all born with your power, his presence at my daughter’s side as her escort would help keep her safe, and help our family as well as the people I represent to feel supported by the royal family in more ways than you have shown in recent days.”
Each word was careful, calculated.
“I see what you are saying,” Ilyan finally said. His words were as slow as controlled as my fathers; each posturing move was all part of the chess match the two were locked in.
And my father was winning.
My father was taking control.
My father, a powerful Chosen, standing against an Eternal King. And winning.
Perhaps I was wrong to put my faith in the royal family for as long as I did. To not see the power that was already in my blood.
“Well, something to think about.” My father was back to his shy manipulation. “I’m sure a day will be enough time to give us an answer? Perhaps she could even wait to leave and join Rowan when he enters the Academy this weekend.”
“Indeed.” The word was nearly a growl. “Well, if you have nothing else, we will be on our way.” Ilyan’s eyes were dark as he looked at my father. The man couldn’t even restrain the slim-lipped smile that was peeking through.
“No, My Lord.”
“Good,” he turned to me, his eyes softening. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sia. Please speak with the guards if you have any more questions, they will be glad to assist you.”
Ilyan spoke very quickly, giving us no room to thank, or bow, or bestow him with flattery before he turned away, the three of them walking back into the dark with straight backs, mumbling in a language that they thought no one but they knew.
Right then I could see what my parents were saying.
They were better than us. Smarter than us. Lords over us.
My blood boiled. My magic steamed.
“What do you say, Miss Demarco,” My mother began, adopting the kings exact phrasing from before. “Are you up for the task?”
“I am, but what if the King doesn’t agree to Rowan escorting me?”
“He will agree,” my father was firm, my mother’s laugh following right behind, but neither of them were looking at me anymore, they were staring at each other. A look that was as close to love as they could get passing between them.
“Send the second wave, Samantha,” My father said, sending my mother right back to her phone. “Let’s show them how bad it can get, and what they stand to lose if they don’t work with us.”
My mother tapped against the screen, her smile spreading before she looked back up, giving my father the tiniest of nods.
“It is done.”
“Then it is your turn, Sia.” My father said with a haunting grin that straightened against my spine. “It is your turn to do as we have raised you. Do not fail us again.”
“I won’t.”
They said nothing more before they turned and left, leaving me in the dark.
In their shadow.
13
Rowan
"Move faster, Rowan!" Ryland’s shout echoed through the sparring room; the underground cave filled with the multicolored smoke that had been his favorite for the past few weeks.
The stuff was thick, easily obscuring walls, barriers, and thanks to the color: magical attacks. Which was why I was on my hands and feet, heaving from the impact of the gut-wrenching assault he had sent my way. At least I hadn't thrown up that time.
"Move faster, move quietly--" Another attack slammed into my side before I could regain my footing, sending me sprawling over the stone floor of the massive training hall as my legs went ridged. "Be silent."
Ryland laughed, his smug face coming into focus as he broke through the smoke directly above me. I grumbled and rolled over, flicking my fingers and sending him flat on his ass. He swore just as loud.
"Be vigilant." I finished the last of the lessons he had drilled into me since I was a toddler.
"At least you remember something," Ryland said, rolling over and pushing himself to sitting, the two of us panting in the swirling smoke. "I was beginning to think I had taught you nothing all these years. Or are you purposefully forgetting everything so you don't stand out on your first day at the academy?"
"Who cares about my first day." Well, besides everyone, because I surely didn't. The look Ryland was giving me said as much.
It had been a little over three weeks from the attack, and the start of term had been rescheduled for this Monday. All of those who had received a bite from the Vilỳ had awakened with their magic, save one. Saturday afternoon I was due to leave to the massive stone institution, which meant I had three days left at home. Three days of pure bliss, not shoved into a monkey suit and pretending to be something I'm not.
Three days.
Which was probably why Uncle Ryland had dragged me here. One last chance to kick my ass until summer break. He wasn’t the only one squeezing in last-minute farewells.
This morning it had been a bewitched checker marathon with Angie. Last night, dinner with Dramin and Patrice. I was sure at some point Aunt Wyn was going to show up and drag me to some old ruin where we could blast music for hours while she talked about the way things used to be.
The only person I hadn't seen was Talon, who had 'hooked up' with a few Chosen and booked it to Rome after the Cathedral had been imploded. After our run in after The Gauntlet, and then in the Council hall I was kind of glad he was M.I.A. I had enough on my mind as it was.
"I can think of at least forty newly awakened Chosen who are ecstatic for your first day." Ryland was laughing at me, shoving me playfully to the side.
Something I returned, but with a jolt of magic inside of it. Okay, maybe more than a jolt. I accidentally sent him skidding across the stone floor and through the fog.
"Not funny," he called, fully aware I was laughing at the dumb look on his face as I sent him spiraling away.
I felt his magic a second before it blazed through the smoke. The bright red attack was heading right for me. Too bad my attacker was also the person who trained me. I exhaled, a shield snapping around me as I vanished from sight. Plastering my back flat against the stone floor, I laid still the attack flying uselessly overhead.
Move faster.
Scuttling around like a crab, I shuffled through the now swirling fog, the dratted stuff giving away my position. He sent another attack my way before I could move more than a few steps.
Move quietly.
Ryland couldn't even follow his own rules. I could hear his shoes tap against the stone. Although, the rubber of his trainers was so quiet that if we hadn't been silent I probably wouldn’t have heard anything. He was close, and coming closer. Fanning my hand wide, I shot a ribbon of wind in the direction opposite of where he was headed, the spirals of pastel mist dancing through the air in what I hoped was a false path.
Be silent.
He followed it immediately, rubber squeaking faintly in the opposite direction.
Be vigilant.
Vigilant enough to remember that your Uncle who was trained by a mad king and then spent over two hundred years training an army was not going to fall for that.
I needed to do more.
I pressed my hand against the smoke, shooting a ribbon of yellow meant to incapacitate him into the multicolored swirls. I didn't even wait to see if the attack had hit its mark before I soared to the side, shield snapping back into place.
I wasn't fast enough. Something warm hit against my back, locking through my bones as I landed like a rock, arms unable to catch me. I hadn't even hit the rock floor before the second attack hit. This one from another direction.
"Shit." There were two of them.
"Seriously? You would think I've been teaching you to knit all this time," Ryland called from somewhere through the smoke, a laugh I recognized at once echoing right behind it.
Double shit.
My dad was here.
The back of my neck was prickling, my magic buzzing as it tried to break free from my father's perfectly coiled attack. I needed to move. I needed to be able to fight back, and dad had turned me into a sitting duck.
Ryland always went a little bit easy on me. But my father never did, and Ryland certainly wasn't going to continue his niceties if his big brother was here. The leather soles of the King's shoes grew closer, his magic pressing against the air as he prepared for another attack. Seconds. I had seconds.
Writhing against the stone, my magic finally snapped his bind, sending my arms and legs flailing to freedom. Not even waiting to catch my breath, I shot an attack right at someone’s blue eyes and took off into the air, leaving swirls of smoke and two very shocked brothers somewhere behind me.
"Ha! Ha!" I laughed, breaking through the smoke and leaving it twisting behind me like the tail of a kite. One quick round and then I would turn around and pop the two of them off like ducks in a tree. Or wherever people shot ducks. I had no clue, no one had hunted animals for hundreds of years.
Which is probably why I had no idea what I was doing, and why I was shot to the ground without little more than a pop, just like the duck. My father appeared in front of me with a bang and a gasp, the stutter bringing him within inches of my face. His attack was already lined up and ready.
The blast of grey smashed right into my collar bone, sending me back and tumbling through the air as the smoke cleared. A kill shot. It hadn't been full power, but I had felt the ache in my heart. I knew what it was. That attack was meant to stop the muscles, freezing it in place. I was sure both of them had used it hundreds of times before.
"That was a nice attempt, Rowan," Ryland said as his magic caught me, bringing me in for a nice soft landing. "You almost had us."
"You," I corrected, jumping to my feet. The action wobbly thanks to the concentration of magic in my chest as it worked to heal me. "I almost had you. Pretty sure it was ju
st the two of us until a few seconds ago."
I shot my father a look the second he touched down, loose strands of his hair and the long golden ribbon fanning around him like he was some kind of ancient Greek god. I rolled my eyes and the two of them chuckled with sounds so rich and deep that the cave rang like chimes.
"That's the joy of battle, Son," Father said, putting his arm around my shoulders. "Enemies can appear at any time. There is no such thing as a fair fight. You should be prepared for anything."
"I wouldn't call that a joy, at least not one that I need to be prepared for. There isn't--" I caught myself, my neck prickling as the damn Drak powers ignited. I sighed and shook my head, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. I would be fooling myself if I thought they hadn't noticed that.
Considering I was standing before my mother's husband and best friend they already knew what was happening to me. It was like the worst kind of puberty, and I had barely survived that the first time with two older brothers and so many pestering aunts and uncles following me around.
"It is always worth it to be prepared, Son." My dad's arm slid from my shoulders as he came around to face me, both of them staring at me with the bright blue eyes that I had been jealous of for so long that I almost resented them. "The future is a fickle thing, and even what we see can change. No one saw what was coming at The Gauntlet for example."
I had never heard a statement so loaded before, but I kept my focus on him, refusing to let up. If he had something to say, he could say it.
"No one knows what will come after."
I would give him that. I had been dreaming of the girl with the mohawk, Gemma, for years. But since I had come face to face with her everything had stopped. Perhaps because I had been pushing everything away with every drop of strength I had, but it wasn't something I was interested in understanding, or even fixing.
I had seen what was coming, but I hadn't been able to save anyone. I hadn't been able to do anything. Just like before, I wasn’t interested in playing with a power that only caused harm.
Not after what Talon had said. Not after what my father had said.
The Gauntlet Page 14