Taliesin Ascendant (The Children and the Blood)

by Megan Joel Peterson

  It’d still really help to have her awake.

  “You know,” the woman offered conversationally. “She’s going to be out for hours. The sedative is quite strong.”

  He said nothing. Resting his arm across the girl, he began gently rubbing her shoulder, hoping the minor contact would draw her back.

  “Whatever tie you have to this little human,” she continued. “You really ought to think of how much safer she’d be if you let us leave her somewhere. Considering our magic could accidentally hurt her and all.”

  His gaze flicked up to the woman. Smiling pleasantly, she raised an eyebrow at him.

  “What do you want?” he asked quietly.

  “Just your cooperation.”

  When he didn’t respond, she sighed. “The council wants to help you, Cole. They understand you’re more aware of what’s going on, though some of the intricacies might not be clear just yet. But they appreciate you’re an adult, same as them. They’d like to work with you.” She smiled again. “For all our benefit.”

  He glanced between her and the other wizard. In spite of himself, a humorless laugh slipped out.

  “And how’s that work? I don’t listen, you kill me like you did my dad?” He paused. “The king of Taliesin?”

  She hesitated and then her gaze dropped to her lap, a hint of ruefulness in her expression. “What happened with your father was regrettable, Cole. More than you can possibly know.”

  The cold laugh escaped again. He was having trouble stopping it, and wasn’t sure he cared.

  “Regrettable,” he repeated. “What? Murdering him? Shooting my mother in front of me? You regret that?”

  “We didn’t kill your mother, you stupid boy,” the other wizard interjected disgustedly.

  Cole’s gaze darted over to him.

  “Your loving father took care of that. And as for Victor…” the man scoffed. “You think we whacked our own king, is that it?”

  “Quinton,” the woman warned. “The council should be the ones–”

  “Screw the council, Vivian. Edmund’s dead because this kid went off to find answers about mommy and daddy.”

  The woman’s face took on an icy cast at the mention of the man who’d pretended to be Cole’s counselor for years. Wordlessly, she turned away.

  “We had no magic, moron,” Quinton continued to him. “Nothing to defend ourselves against a bunch of Merlin who’d be out for blood if we dared kill any of their own. Kidnapping’s one thing, but murder? We tranked your mom, same as your little human there. We just wanted to take you, not start a war. Honestly, you really think we’d risk what those Merlin would’ve done, just to make a point to your daddy?”

  “And what point was that?” Cole asked quietly, watching the man.

  “Not to go out of control,” Quinton answered. “Though obviously, he didn’t get the message. The man was a loose cannon. He wanted power and he’d do anything to get it. Victor assassinated the Merlin king and his whole damn family just to get his magic back, and when that was done, he went ahead and eliminated your mother simply because he didn’t need her anymore. He only married her for information on Merlin, and probably only had you in the hope that mingling his bloodline with a Merlin’s would break the spell.” He gave a mocking laugh. “You should thank us for getting you out of there before he killed you too.”

  Barely breathing with the effort of not ripping the man’s throat out, Cole shook his head. “Bullshit,” he whispered.

  Quinton scoffed. “Whatever, kid. Doesn’t change what’s true. Your dad murdered your mom, and the Merlin royal family to boot. He sided with insurrectionists hell-bent on overthrowing the council, just to gain more power than he’d had to start. Your dad was a monster, boy. And he made himself and his buddies into something even worse when he killed the Merlin king.”

  Cole realized some hint of expression must have shown through, because the man paused. “Oh, you’ve seen them? Yeah, we don’t spread that around much, you cripple’s ability to somehow spot what your daddy made. What those insurrectionists became when they blew up the Merlin royal family on Christmas Eve. And before you think of scampering off to join the bastards who killed Ethel, Edmund and half our damn team in this past year alone, you ought to know that once your dad’s buddies had their magic back, they decided they didn’t really want a ruler after all. They got rid of Victor too. Big bloodbath, that was. Disgusting. And in the end, your daddy was toast.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “You wish. We couldn’t have gained shit from killing your mom, and even if we’d wanted to, we never had a chance to take out your dad. But you believe whatever you want.”

  He was shaking, though Cole was fairly certain his motionless body gave no sign. But tremors vibrated through his stomach while his mind spun. He’d known his dad. Victor had loved Clara. Loved Cole. If there was only one thing left in the world of which he was unequivocally certain, it was that his father would have moved earth, heaven and hell for his wife and son.

  And as for the rest, there was no way… just no way at all…

  His head felt like it was going to explode every time his heart beat.

  “So why keep me around?” he asked, his voice still quiet. Controlled. Careful. Because this was garbage from beginning to end, and the minute Lily woke up, the bastards would regret every word.

  His conscience whispered at the edge of his rage, but he shoved the noise of it away.

  “Why do all this?” he finished, glancing illustratively to the limousine.

  Quinton chuckled again. “Because unlike your daddy’s friends, we’re not monsters. Merlin and Taliesin, we’ve both got one bloodline with the ability to bind magic and recreate what was done five hundred years ago to your ancestors and mine. And guess who that trait belongs to? The royals. King Patrick, his lot, and you. Now your daddy’s friends, they’d probably do God knows what to make a cripple like you share those genetics around. Maybe you’d get the chance to enjoy it. Or maybe they’d put you in a coma till they didn’t need you anymore. They’re not the nicest folks, after all, and they just want to get their hands on that power and keep it under their control. But us? We were more interested in giving you a life worth living. Family, friends, all that rot. And while you grew up in luxury, we risked our lives to keep your ass safe, hoping that if you turned out smart enough, you’d side with us when we brought you into the loop, rather than the folks who made your daddy into charcoal.”

  Silence fell over the car. With a glance to Quinton, Vivian leaned forward. “You saw what they did to Edmund, didn’t you?”

  His gaze snapped to her, his rage mounting higher at the faux concern in her voice. As though she knew that’d been hard, and actually cared.

  “We’re trying to protect you, Cole,” she continued. “The council. All of us. You’ve only seen the barest hints of what the Blood can do.”

  Unable to stand her tone, he looked away, and his gaze caught on Lily. Daughter of King Patrick. Last of the Merlin royal family.

  The trembling grew stronger.

  They were liars. Every day of his life they’d lied, starting from the moment they took him. Believing anything they said now would just distract him and make him a fool.

  He closed his eyes, fighting to push everything from his mind but the goal of escape.

  “We’re here to keep you safe,” Vivian said. “So cooperate with us. With the council. Leave the girl and let us–”

  “No.”

  The word slipped out before he could stop it, and it took everything he had to keep his expression controlled as he looked back at her.

  “She stays with me.”

  Frustration tinged the woman’s face as she glanced to Quinton. The man had no such problem, and just rolled his eyes in disgust.

  “I watched her family get killed,” Cole said, spinning the tale without looking away from Vivian. “A couple of fighting wizards who didn’t care who they hurt. I promised I’d take care of her.” He paused, forcing
himself to speak the words and stomach the lie, even if only for now. “So fine. I’ll work with you. I’m not too interested in dealing with the folks who put Edmund through a car. But you make me a liar to this girl, and I’ll make sure no one has a hope in hell of getting their hands on my bloodline. You understand me?”

  “Oh, come on. You really expect us to believe you’d… what? Commit suicide?” Quinton sneered. “Over a human kid?”

  Cole looked over, meeting the wizard’s eyes. “Try me.”

  “Fine,” Vivian interjected before Quinton could speak. She rested a manicured hand on the man’s arm, stilling him. “Keep the girl.” The woman smiled. “You’ll see, Cole. We’re not your enemies.”

  He couldn’t answer. Somewhere between the truth he wanted to speak and the lie he needed to say, the images of the night his mother died rose like a wall too high to overcome.

  Shaking, he turned away, his hand still rubbing Lily’s shoulder.

  The trees parted beyond the limousine’s smoked windows, revealing the gravel stretch of a small airport. Steel shelters covered private planes at the distant end of the runway, and closer by, a concrete block of a building waited. A handful of vehicles peppered the unmarked parking lot, though their owners were nowhere to be seen. Several rusted vending machines stood sentry along the building’s front wall, their faded paint still trying to shine in the morning light.

  Bouncing over the rough terrain, the limo rounded the concrete building. Through the windows, Cole could see the shadowy forms of the people inside.

  One of them turned as the limousine drove by. Cole tensed, his heart rate spiking.

  “What?” Vivian asked.

  Behind the cover of the smoked windows, Cole watched Keller study the limo, and then motion to his companions.

  The limo continued on. Cole’s gaze went to Lily, though his thoughts were elsewhere.

  “Cole?”

  He didn’t answer. Two separate groups had been asking about him, Magnus had said. And obviously, one of them worked for the Blood. He began rubbing Lily’s shoulder harder.

  Vivian tapped on the divider between the back seats and the driver. The blackened window rolled away.

  “Thomas,” she said, her eyes still on Cole. “I think we have a problem.”

  She rocked slightly as the vehicle accelerated up onto the tarmac and then curved toward the far end of the runway. As they came to a stop, Vivian threw open the door, while Quinton reached toward Lily.

  “Back off,” Cole warned, the motion snapping him from his thoughts.

  “Hurry up, then.”

  Cole watched the wizard clamber out. Wordlessly, he drew the staff closer and then awkwardly scooped it and Lily from the seat. A small jet waited outside the limousine, its engines already powering up. Without a word, Quinton snagged Cole’s arm as he climbed out, pulling him toward the plane.

  “Faster,” the man growled.

  Tugging away from him, Cole looked back at the building on the other end of the airstrip. He could see people running, while a car charged past them from the parking lot.

  The Blood killed Lily’s family, he reminded himself. And Taliesin killed his. But between the two groups…

  Magic crackled around the wizard’s hand. “Now,” Quinton ordered, his gaze on the people rushing their way.

  Grimacing, Cole shifted Lily in his grip and then headed for the plane as Thomas sped off in the limo.

  Vivian looked up from buckling herself into the cramped quarters of the jet’s interior as he came inside. Bent nearly double, Cole barely spared the woman a glance. He set Lily in a seat away from the wizards, and then lowered himself down next to her. Strapping in, he turned to the window.

  The car was coming. Half a dozen men ran in its wake.

  Quinton slammed the door. “Go!” he shouted at the pilots.

  They didn’t need the order. A shiver went through the plane as it started moving and then gravity pushed Cole deeper into his seat as the jet rapidly picked up speed. Outside, the car veered sharply, trying to cut them off.

  The plane swept past the sedan and raced down the runway.

  Cole turned away. The Taliesin were a known evil. At least more than the Blood right now. And Quinton’s lies didn’t matter. When Lily woke up, they’d get out of here.

  He’d figure out what to do after that happened.

  The plane shook and jumped, jerking from more than velocity. Pale-faced, Vivian watched the windows while in his seat, Quinton glared at the cockpit, visibly willing the pilots to go faster.

  Cole ignored them all as he reached over, rubbing Lily’s shoulder again. Boneless, the little girl slumped in the seat, one thin arm around the staff. Slow breaths rose and fell in her chest, their pace unchanged by the jostling around them.

  Frustration and powerlessness swelled at the sight. Nearly half a year of running, and now this.

  Closing his eyes, he cursed himself as he fought to calm down. He was a bastard for thinking it, for considering it. Magical powers or not, she was a kid, not a weapon. And he wouldn’t be a monster. Not like the Blood, whoever they actually turned out to be. Not like the Carnegeans, with their casual cruelty in the name of history.

  He glanced over as magic flared around Quinton’s hands in response to a sharp lurch of the plane.

  Not like them.

  Shaking his head, Cole turned back to the window as, with a jolt, the jet left the ground and launched into the sky.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The cell phone buzzed on the mahogany console table, its sound like a large hornet in the quiet hotel suite.

  “Yes?”

  A moment went by. The call ended. Brogan’s gaze slid to his employer.

  “The Taliesin have him,” he said quietly.

  There was no answer. His hands folded loosely and his leg crossed before him, the suit-clad man sat as he had for the past hour, watching the highway beyond the hotel window from the vantage point of a wood-framed desk chair.

  “Keller questioned the human authorities at the airport,” Brogan continued. “They’re taking him to Croftsburg.”

  Silence followed his words. For his lack of reaction, the man could have been sleeping, though Brogan knew that was far from the case.

  “Sir, you know they wouldn’t take him to a city unless–”

  “I know.”

  Brogan let the soft words end his own. After years of serving the king of Taliesin, he knew the man well. He could feel the orders coming.

  “The council is there,” Jamison said, still watching the traffic. “They’re going to use him to buy protection and then make him disappear. Again.”

  On the highway, cars flew along, racing each other for the exits. In the hallway, a maid’s cart squeaked as it rolled by.

  The chair creaked quietly as Jamison turned.

  “Call everyone,” he said, no trace of emotion in his tone. “Tear the city apart. Whatever it takes, Mason.” He paused. “Before they hide him again.”

  Brogan nodded, but the motion was lost. Without another word, Jamison stood and left, the bedroom door shutting behind him.

  Silence fell again. Thoughtfully, Brogan picked up his phone and then glanced back toward the other room.

  Croftsburg. Despite the danger, he knew Jamison wouldn’t stay behind. Not when they were closer to his son than they’d been in years. But protection wouldn’t be hard to arrange, even on short notice. Their people had long since perfected ways of keeping their presence and any necessary violence far beneath both Merlin and Taliesin’s radars.

  Though there was Ashley to consider.

  Idly, Brogan turned the phone over in his hand. Last word they’d received from Harris put the girl in the city. But that was days ago. Obviously, she could have relocated since then.

  His gaze rose to the mirror above the console table.

  Melted skin covered the left side of his face, and a milky eye stared out of the glistening mess. On half his head, his hair was shaved. On the
other, nothing would ever grow again.

  The corner of his twisted mouth pulled up in a smile as he thumbed on the phone.

  *****

  “So…” Crystal began with forced casualness as she picked up a piece of gravel from the rooftop. “Where’re we headed?”

  “South, I hope,” Ashe said distractedly, her eyes on the boy creeping toward the edge of the office building. On either side, a pair of wizards shadowed his movements, their watchful gazes on the old business district around them.

  As he neared the ledge, Ghost crouched low and then peered down at the street. Seconds passed and then he inched backwards, straightening only when several yards separated him from the open air.

  He glanced to her and shook his head. Ashe sighed.

  “Why south?” Crystal asked, tossing the rock aside as they rose from their places by the air conditioning units at the center of the roof.

  “Because that’s where the Blood were last time I saw them,” Ashe answered, watching Nathaniel. Motioning her to stay back, the man left the cover of the massive units, his gaze sweeping the neighboring rooftops. Emerging from the opposite side of the air conditioners, two other guards did the same.

  Silence followed her words. Ashe glanced back to see the twins sharing one of the countless enigmatic looks they seemed to possess.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It’s nothing,” Crystal said. “There was just this place down south we heard about. Like a colony of cripples or something.”

  Ashe paused. “The Abbey,” she supplied, keeping her voice lower than she hoped Nathaniel could hear.

  Crystal blinked in surprise. “Yeah, have you–”

  “Do you know if it’s still there?”

  The girl hesitated, and then regret crept onto her face. Ashe’s chest tightened. Stone-faced, she waited for the words.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t,” Crystal said. “We never heard more than rumors in the first place.”

  Remembering how to breathe, Ashe turned away.