by Bella Klaus
“What do you mean?” she asked.
I met Aunt Arianna’s blue-gray eyes. “Those fire users all worshipped Kresnik as a god.”
Her lips parted to let out a shocked breath, and she glanced across the low table at Valentine, who nodded. “Why, when he’s the reason they are persecuted in Logris?”
I exhaled a long breath. “Did she ever tell you about my father?”
She shook her head. “Aurora didn’t even stay for long enough to explain you were her daughter. The ancestry test brought up her image and a man nobody recognized.”
“Jude,” I said.
Her eyes bulged. “You met him, too?”
I nodded. “He was some kind of seer. His magic was both angel and demon, and he could distort time.”
“Was?”
“He sacrificed his body in a ritual to give Kresnik a physical form,” I said. “Then Kresnik destroyed it in an explosion when he found his immortal body.”
Aunt Arianna’s features stilled, but her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “And my sister?”
“I’m sorry.”
“How?” She closed her eyes.
“Kresnik killed her for failing to perform an impossible task.” A rush of anguish cut off my words. Now that I thought about it, he’d probably punished Aurora out of frustration about not being able to take control of my magic.
She bowed her head, her shoulders moving up and down with silent sobs. I placed my crust back onto the tray and wrapped my arms around her middle. For the next few moments, we cried in each other’s arms, lost in grief.
Maybe Aunt Arianna was grieving for a younger and sweeter Aurora, but I mourned the broken woman, disillusioned by her god, who had risen against him to save my life. If I ever got the chance, I would make Kresnik pay for every life he ruined.
“Wherever she is now, I hope she’s at peace,” Aunt Arianna murmured.
I bit my lip, debating whether to tell her that Hades had reserved a comfortable room for her in Hell. Swallowing, I drew back and met her sad eyes. Telling her about Aurora’s soul would lead to sleepless nights.
Valentine’s phone buzzed. “Please excuse me, ladies.”
He picked up a heaping plate of food and moved to the far side of the apartment.
Aunt Arianna leaned into me and clasped my hands. “Are you happy, Mera?” she whispered. “You’ve been through more trauma than an entire generation of witches.”
“It’s just like how you said when I was little,” I murmured. “Never give up. Never surrender.”
She clutched my hands. “Be strong and endure. Someday, this pain will be useful.”
I told her the rest of my story and how I’d finally regained my magic, only for Kresnik to attempt to steal it back, including creating a connection strong enough to weaken the bond I had with Valentine.
“Before you arrived, we talked about erecting a ward around me to stop Kresnik from pulling on my magic,” I said. “Do you think such a thing is possible?”
Aunt Arianna drew in a deep breath. “I can’t see you doing that without disrupting your connection with King Valentine.”
I glanced over my shoulder, meeting Valentine’s eyes. He gave me a subtle nod, indicating that he’d overheard Aunt Arianna and was willing to take the risk if it meant freeing me from Kresnik.
“Can you do it?” I asked.
She raised her palms. “I’m not nearly powerful enough to pull off that kind of magic.”
“But you know how?”
“It’s just speculation.” She picked up her teacup and frowned. “But if you place a phone in a box lined with electro-magical material, it still functions, but it’s unable to receive inbound and outbound communications until someone opens the box again.”
“Alright.” That made sense. If you ordered magical items from the Hatch, they came wrapped in magic-dampening packaging for protection. “Are you saying we should create a ward out of something more powerful?”
“Or enclose your heart chakra to block the bond.” She took a sip of her tea.
I nodded. “But when I take off the material, the connection will spring back.”
“That’s why you’ll keep it in place until you discover a way to get rid of Kresnik for good.”
My breath caught. “That’s brilliant.”
Her brows drew together. “It’s just the skeleton of an idea. I don’t know if it will work.”
It didn’t matter what she said because my mind already spun with possibilities. If Valentine’s soul could be encased within a heart and secured with crystal, the same could be done to Kresnik, except we would make sure to stuff his soul somewhere it could never escape.
“Mera?” Aunt Arianna tilted her head to the side.
For the first time since Kresnik resurrected, I could see a future without the tyrant. “You don’t know how much that idea has helped.”
She looked like she was about to retort that it was just a theory, but I grabbed her hand. “Between Valentine and the rest of the Supernatural Council, I think we can muster up a way to kill Kresnik’s immortal body and confine his soul for an eternity.”
Valentine strolled over to the armchair opposite our sofa and lowered himself into the seat. “That was Captain Zella from the Law Enforcement Division. She confirmed that the Supernatural Council has secured Kresnik’s dragon behind layers of wards and they won’t hold anyone but Kresnik responsible for the breach of supernatural secrecy.”
“Was there ever a chance they blamed Mera for being abducted by Kresnik?” Aunt Arianna asked.
“He forced my phoenix to transport him across London.” I leaned forward, helping myself to a glass of orange juice and a portion of eggs Benedict. “That sort of spectacle would have caught the attention of everyone with a mobile phone.”
As Valentine and Aunt Arianna discussed the possibility of suppressing my bond with Kresnik and locking up his soul forever, I sat back, my chest bursting with pride to see her discussing magical concepts beyond my comprehension.
After graduating from the University of Logris, Aunt Arianna started an apprenticeship with a Master of Wards but had to cut her studies short because of my arrival. She’d given up so much to take care of me, from a promising career to a relationship. Most wizards were reluctant to take on a single mother, regardless of her admirable circumstances, but Aunt Arianna never once made me feel like a burden. Once we’d dealt with Kresnik, I would find a way to repay her kindness.
Aunt Arianna stayed for dinner and then Irish coffee before returning to the apartment she shared with Great-Aunt Laratte, and the next day, we met the rest of the clan for a long lunch at the Botanical Garden of Atlantis.
Before we knew it, our forty-eight hours came to an end, and we traveled back to England on the Phileas Express. The train pulled into London Central, which was bustling with activity.
The platform was like walking through the Harrods food hall with its colorful tiled walls, art deco-style retail booths, and warm light pouring down on us through a glass atrium. Instead of massive counters displaying their wares, train tracks ran down the middle of the space.
Supernaturals who had disembarked walked around us, carting their luggage toward the ticket barriers, where Caiman stood with Macavity and Kain.
I clutched Valentine’s hand. “You didn’t tell me we had a welcome party.”
“We’ve all missed you around the palace, especially Macavity.”
“I’ll bet Lazarus was happy to see me gone.”
He shook his head. “He was disturbed that you’d been taken and hasn’t had the heart to tell Beatrice what’s happened. When you see my brothers again, they’ll be more appreciative of everything you’ve done for me and Lamia.”
I shot him an incredulous glance. “What did you say to them?”
“The truth.” He stared down at me with an intensity that made my heart flip.
Before I could ask for more details, a blur of movement sped toward me and swept me up in a hug.
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br /> “Mera.” Kain stared down at me, his aquamarine eyes wide. “Are you alright? How did you escape Kresnik? Did he steal your phoenix?”
“I’m fine.”
I wrapped an arm around his middle and placed a kiss on his cheek, just as a furry head emerged from behind his right shoulder with a pair of jewel green eyes. Macavity must have slipped down Kain’s back as he clambered toward me, based on the ferocity of his yowl. I stretched out my arms and lifted the cat off Kain’s back, and cradled the warm bundle to my chest.
Valentine placed a hand on the small of my back. “He never lost faith that you would return.”
“Really?”
I gazed down at Macavity, who leaned forward with his paws resting on my collar and gave me a sniff. After checking that I was well, he drew back and meowed.
“And I missed you, too.” I rubbed the space between his ears. “Have you been taking care of Kain for me?”
Macavity nodded, his little chest seeming to puff out with pride.
Caiman stepped forward and bowed. “My Lady Phoenix, welcome home. Please allow me to show you to the car.”
The rest of London Central was even more stunning than the platform, with tiled walls representing all the supernatural races. We passed a mural of Valentine’s vampire ancestor from the mausoleum, her arms reaching to the heavens. Ceramic angels graced the ceilings, staring down at us with their fluffy wings outspread.
Kain walked ahead with Caiman, and Macavity rested in my arms, glancing from side to side, seeming just as awed as me at the spectacle. I supposed nothing like this was available the last time he visited the Human World.
“How was Atlantis?” Kain glanced at me over his shoulder.
“It’s like a series of connected snow globes floating in the ocean,” I said.
Valentine chuckled. “That’s an interesting way of describing the Supernatural World’s most formidable oceanic city.”
“Alright then, a sunken solar system floating around the sun.”
“How do you get from one planet to another?” he asked.
“Glass elevators.”
Caiman veered left and opened a set of doors that led to a darkened parking lot filled with vehicles. Macavity wriggled out of my grip and bounded toward a white limousine. A black van emerged from around the corner, swallowing the cat beneath its low undercarriage.
Every ounce of blood drained from my face, and I lurched forward, just as the vehicle stopped.
“Macavity,” I rasped, sending out a silent prayer to every deity I could imagine that he wouldn’t be hurt.
Valentine and Caiman rushed ahead of me, both dropping to their knees. Kain jogged after them, but all I could do was shuffle forward on legs that felt as stiff as wooden clothes pegs.
My heart thudded loud enough to drown out the sounds of the vehicle, and my throat became so raw that I swore I could taste blood. Macavity had to be alive.
“Never do that again.” Valentine rose, carrying a sheepish-looking Bengal cat by the scruff. “Do you know how much you worried us all?”
Macavity drooped and let out an apologetic “Meow.”
The doors of the van opened, and a crowd of enforcers stepped out, led by a six-foot-tall redhead with stern features. My brow furrowed. What was Hades’ daughter doing in London Central?
Valentine handed Macavity to Caiman. “Captain Caria?”
She stood to attention without so much as inclining her head. “Hemera Griffin, by the power of the Seven Monarchs of the Supernatural Council, you are hereby detained on suspicion of breaching the Supernatural Secrecy Act. Do you understand the charges?”
Chapter Eight
A shocked breath huffed from my lips. I thought the Supernatural Council understood that it hadn’t been my fault that I’d appeared in public as a phoenix. I glanced up at Valentine, waiting for him to protest, to pull rank, or flare out his magic and force the enforcers to their knees, but he inclined his head at the enforcers.
“Understood,” Valentine said. “Please lead the way, officers.”
My jaw dropped, and I tugged on his arm. “What are you doing?” I whispered. “I thought we had an arrangement.”
A vehicle rumbled close, an Überwald, which slowed toward us. Both its driver and the family of wizards inside gaped. Captain Caria glared into the vehicle and motioned for them to continue through the parking lot.
Valentine placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me to walk along with the enforcers toward their vehicle.
“What’s going on?” asked Kain.
Caiman placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Your Majesty?”
“Everything’s alright.” Valentine reached into his pocket and extracted the snake bile. “Mera’s arrest is part of a prearranged hearing that will have her acquitted for breaching the Supernatural Secrecy Act. Take this to an alchemist and have it turned into a paste for applying onto weapons.”
My eyes narrowed. Valentine could have mentioned it before it if an arrest was part of the procedure. He was giving his colleagues at the Council the benefit of the doubt.
One of the enforcers opened the back of their van, while a pair of them positioned themselves in front of Kain, Caiman, and Macavity.
“We’ll see you in a few hours.” Valentine ushered me toward the enforcers’ van.
I glanced at Captain Caria, looking for any signs of deception on her features, but they remained blank. After bidding my friends a silent farewell, I stepped into the van’s gray interior and took the back seat with Valentine.
We passed the short ride through London’s underground streets in silence. Valentine held my hand and remained calm, as though he was accustomed to riding in the backs of vans with enforcers. I forced myself to stay calm. Maybe things would work out for me differently with Valentine alive and at my side.
When the vehicle reached the wards of Logris, Captain Caria guided us out and marched us through the darkened hallways of Border Control.
“Valentine,” I whispered.
“Don’t worry.” He tucked me under his arm, encasing me in his warmth. “This is part of the formal hearing I mentioned earlier.”
Doubt crept over my mind with icy talons, and my skin tightened into goosebumps. Maybe he was right and we’d get through the questions unscathed, but I had little faith in the justice system in Logris and trusted the Supernatural Council even less.
All the times I’d crossed the border of Logris, it had been in a vehicle of some sort, whether an enforcers’ van, a limousine, or the trunk of Kain’s BMW. I’d always imagined Border Control to be a magical checkpoint, but it looked to be a long series of hallways forming a ring around the supernatural city.
Dim wall lights illuminated our way, reminding me of the passages that had stretched between the courtroom and the jail where the enforcers had kept Mr. Masood, the gorilla shifter who had wanted to sacrifice Beatrice to his beloved.
The hallway bent at a forty-five-degree angle, and up ahead stood a metallic door guarded by a pair of enforcers.
“This way, Your Majesty.” Captain Caria raised a hand, indicating for her colleagues to let us into a room no larger than a broom closet, containing a silver-framed mirror. “We’re going straight to the Council’s hearing room.”
One foot stumbled over the other, but Valentine held me to his side, stopping me from tripping. As we stepped into the enclosed space, the question of why our destination sounded so much like a courtroom burned through my mind.
Keeping my voice light, I asked, “Why aren’t we going to the usual meeting room?”
“Because this is a disciplinary hearing,” Valentine replied, sounding unusually casual for someone who had walked out of a meeting to perform an unauthorized rescue operation. “If everything goes as planned, we’ll return to the palace before dinner.”
“And what if it doesn’t?” I asked.
Valentine shifted his gaze toward the mirror. “They swore upon their souls that they took your extenuating cir
cumstances into account.”
I was about to tell him that such oaths were probably meaningless to the most powerful supernaturals in Logris, but he stepped into the mirror and pulled me through.
On the other side was what I could only describe as a miniature courtroom. Seven wooden thrones stood atop a three-foot-high podium set within a wood-paneled wall decorated with the seven crowns of the Logris insignia. Captain Zella stood at the far left of the configuration of seats, with Captain Caria rushing toward the door on the far right.
“Please be seated,” said a voice from behind us.
I turned to lock gazes with the herald, a stout man with a toilet brush mustache and eyebrows to match. He clasped his hands over a red robe with a fur trim, pursing his lips with disapproval.
When I raised my shoulders in a silent question of where he expected us to sit, the herald flicked his long chin at a point over my shoulder. I turned back toward the thrones, to find a pair of wooden stools rising from the floor.
Without complaining about the seating arrangements, Valentine took the stool on the right. I rolled my eyes and walked around the remaining seat.
“If I end up executed with my ashes poured into a jar, I’ll break free and peck you where it will hurt,” I muttered under my breath.
He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ve already negotiated your freedom.”
“Fine.” I lowered myself onto the stool next to Valentine’s and drummed the fingers of one hand on my thigh. This procedure made no sense.
“All rise for the court,” said the herald.
Pursing my lips, I glanced over my shoulder and shot the officious man my filthiest glare. What was the point of asking us to sit just to make us stand again?
He rocked back and forth on his feet, his cheekbones rounding with a satisfied smirk. Whatever. A man whose idea of fulfilment came from petty victories probably didn’t have much to look forward to in life.
The doors on both sides of the thrones opened, and the Angel King strode out of the left one clad in a similar white robe to the one he’d worn to my trial, except with a silver trim. Behind him walked the Shifter King, whose features deepened into a scowl, followed by the Fae King, also wearing the same robe as his colleagues.