by LJ Rivers
“Well, then, why don’t you start at the beginning?” She sat back on the emerald-green velvet seat of her throne.
I cleared my dry throat, and a servant promptly appeared by my side with a glass of water. I drank it and gave it back. “The beginning is really more yours than it is mine,” I began.
She leaned forward a fraction but didn’t say anything, so I kept going.
“I’ll tell you the whole story, but there is something you need to know first, and it cannot wait.” I inhaled a shuddering breath, bracing myself for her reaction. “Prince Auberon escaped the Realm of Shadows. And he has returned to Gwyn Fanon.”
One could hear a pin drop. It was as if the air was sucked from the room at the mention of my father’s name. Everything was set on pause, and I scarcely heard myself breathe. Why didn’t she say something, anything?
After an uncomfortably long silence, Morgana laughed. It was a bubbly, serene sound, and it caught on. The guards laughed too—everyone but me.
“It’s not funny,” I said.
“My dear …” Morgana fanned her face with her hand. “I didn’t catch your name, but I told you no lies, and you make quips?”
“It’s the truth.” I bit my lip.
Sink or swim, Ru.
“And my name is Ruby, by the way. Ruby Guinevere Morgana.” I decided to add an a at the end for emphasis.
Her smile died. “Insolence.”
I crossed my arms. “I promised you the whole truth, so here it is. I’m your descendant. I was born on Earth—apologies, the Land of Eternal Sand—and recently learned about my past. Auberon escaped the Realm of Shadows, which is no more, and he has returned to take back what he believes is rightfully his. I came through your portal in Rhina’s Deep to warn you, but also to rescue my grandparents. My grandmother is your descendant, too. She is dying, and I believe Auberon has her.”
“Princess Elaine went through the portal eighteen dark moons ago with a child in her belly.” Morgana’s eyes blazed. “My grandchild is but an infant, and I have no other descendants. I think Yven might have been right after all. He did say you had misplaced your mind.”
“I realise time has moved more slowly here. On Earth, it’s been fifteen hundred years since the war.”
She laughed again, with a bitter edge this time. “Whoever you are, and wherever you come from, I’m not sure I can restore your mind. It seems far gone.”
“What can I do to prove to you that I’m telling the truth?”
Pullhelli tapped his cane to the floor. “If I may, Your Majesty.”
“Of course you may,” she said warmly.
The ancient Sorcerer retrieved a book from a column near the throne, then stepped onto the platform and stood by Morgana’s side. The lynx that wasn’t a lynx made an annoyed sound deep in its throat, but stayed where it was. “While it is an old and rarely used custom, perhaps the Enchantium trial might shed some light on this matter. If she is who and what she says she is, she will be powerful beyond comprehension. If she does not complete the trial to your satisfaction, then she is not who she claims.”
She tapped a slender finger to her lips. “Why waste my time? She is clearly moonraged.”
Pullhelli gave her the book. It was leather bound and as thick as William’s book, if not bigger.
Could it be?
No, I had hidden William’s book in the cave on Bardsey Island. Still, the familiarity was striking. As were the words I was able to somehow read on the cover: ‘not reveal’.
“That might very well be the case, Your Majesty, but perhaps there is some sense in her madness? Most fragile minds will web stories from reality, even if they become warped.”
“You are wise, my friend.” Morgana rested one hand on his forearm, then carefully opened the book and flipped through it, silently reading a few lines. “It seems the last time the Enchantium trial was used, as the incarnation Xanavor tells it, it happened in Talani. The accused did not convince Xanavor or the accusers. I’m not sure what this will prove today, but I shall heed your advice.” She closed the book with a light touch, keeping it in her lap.
Pullhelli patted her hand and retreated to his former position.
I raised my arm like I was back in the classroom and waved my fingers. “E—excuse me!”
“Yes?” Morgana enquired.
“What exactly is an Enchantium trial?”
“Why, a test of your powers, of course.” She smiled. “If you have my blood, then you should be able to perform magic other Fae cannot. If you also have Sorcery in your veins, you should be able to display that as well.” She seemed to ponder me for a moment. “Assuming you are not familiar with our customs, you should know that interbreeding between a Sorcerer and a Fae has not been allowed in my queendom since Merlin’s fall. Auberon’s cruel nature proved once and for all that such a union is unwise. Your claim is not only madness, it is forbidden.”
My heart sank. The only way to get out of this alive was to make her believe me. Believe everything. Even then, I’d be in trouble because of my mixed blood. “All right. How do I do this?”
“Pullhelli will instruct you on each task,” Morgana said. “And I shall bear witness before I cast my judgement. You are free to ask questions if you do not understand what is asked of you, and I expect you not to cause harm during the trial. If you do, the trial will not reach its conclusion.”
But I would. I saw it in my ancestor’s eyes. She was intrigued by me and what I might be able to do, but by no means did she believe what I had told her. Perhaps the truth was simply too much to stomach? If what I had told her was indeed fact, then that would mean her daughter had been dead for nearly fifteen hundred years. It meant the prison she had designed for Auberon had not held, her knights were likely dead—which granted, at least two of them were—and she was on the brink of another war. How could anyone, even a queen, manage such a burden? Nevertheless, I had to make her see.
If I couldn’t, all would be lost.
Chapter Thirteen
Pullhelli raised his cane and moved with impressive surety for someone who looked like the next move he made might break every bone in his body, before he positioned himself in the aisle. The Junipers cleared the space and went to line the walls instead. The Sorcerer swung his cane, and the pews scraped across the marble, leaving a complete circle in the middle of the throne room, perhaps fifteen feet in diameter.
Morgana snapped her fingers. “Commander Taryn, I wish for my Primes to stand witness as well. We shall wait for them before we begin.”
Taryn gestured to me. “But who—?”
“The Junipers will make sure she behaves. Besides, Pullhelli is here. Do as I ask, Taryn.”
“Very well, My Queen.” He strode off.
Once he was gone, Pullhelli gave me an appraising look. “Ruby the Red, I’m not sure what your true title is, but that will be what I will call you until this matter is resolved.”
Morgana raised her chin. “You are about to be put to the test, Ruby the Red. The injury you arrived here with would have hindered you, but you should have complete mobility again. Besides, I take no pleasure in watching a young woman in pain. Are you feeling up to the task?” She tapped her fingers on the armrest to invite the lynx that wasn’t a lynx back on her lap. The animal willingly obliged and fixed me with his moon-stare yet again.
“I feel fine.” I shifted nervously, wanting more than anything to grab the cage with Kit in it and free my cat. But we were not the only ones in trouble. Somewhere in Avalen, likely in the dungeons, were my pack—my friends and chosen family. If I did anything reckless, they would pay the price. I had to be smart about this.
If only Charlie were here.
Morgana folded her hands on the armrests, and I could feel her power radiating through the room like a tidal wave, making the tiny hairs on my neck bristle. She exuded magic in a way I had never experienced with anyone. While she looked like Mum, she lacked Mum’s softness. I’m not sure what I had expected to find, but for some reason, I h
ad imagined her to be benevolent and sweet. Not that the Fae queen didn’t seem like the benevolent kind, but there was an edge to her. A sharpness, which despite the likeness, still set her apart from Mum. Maybe it came with the job description.
While we waited, none of us spoke. After what felt like an hour, but was likely only minutes, Taryn returned with the remaining Primes and, for some reason, Yven. They bowed at Morgana, then found a seat on the pews facing the makeshift arena.
“Ruby the Red.” Pullhelli commanded my attention. “Please, step forward.”
I moved to his side, smack in the middle of the room.
“Stay here,” he told me privately, then went to take a seat near the other Primes. “Diwella, would you please put her in a force field?”
The Fae Prime raised her hand and made a flourishing gesture, which created a dome of a force field around me in the blink of an eye.
“Now, Ruby the Red,” Pullhelli continued. “I will ask you to display the most common gifts for a Sorcerer and a Fae, but I expect you to show us everything you possess. And don’t hold back. When you have nothing more to show us, you let us know, and we will take it from there. You may start with the most basic power of any Fae: healing.”
I stared dumbfounded at the empty space around me. How was I supposed to show them my healing ability with no one to heal?
“Miranar,” Pullhelli said.
One of the Primes rose. He was thrice the size of Sanctor. Broad shoulders, but a lean build. When his lips rose in a feral grin, I recognised his kin. The wolf underneath his human appearance was impossible to ignore.
Yven fell to his knees and palmed his face. Behind him, Miranar shed his cloak. His skin rippled and fur sprouted on his hands and along his neck. He was changing, though not entirely. He stayed in a kind of half-form: part human, part wolf. His hands grew claws, and muscles rolled under his skin. When he opened his mouth wide, it was like looking into that of a wolf instead of a man. Before I could blink, Miranar pounced on Yven.
I took a step forward and flung my arm out to send a force field around the young Fae, but stopped mid-throw, remembering I was trapped. Meanwhile, Miranar slammed his claws across Yven’s back. Blood flowed, splashing onto the white marble. Yven screamed, though he did not move. The wolf licked his sharp canines and retreated to his seat as a full man once more.
I stared at Yven in disbelief. “Help him!”
“Diwella,” Pullhelli said. “If you please.”
The Fae made an exasperated grimace and barely flicked her fingers to create a slit in the force field. Pullhelli waved his cane, and Yven slid into the glassy dome, as if by an invisible push. It swiftly closed behind him.
I crouched by his side. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Yven said in a hoarse voice. “I volunteered.” He glanced up at me, teary-eyed and with a lopsided smile. “Now, show me your moves, Ruby the Red.”
I shook my head, but quickly placed my hands on his back. Warmth ignited in my core, and beams of light encased Yven, sending bursts of yellow and crimson dancing around us. The light webbed and dipped into his skin as if steadily stitching it back together. Once he was fully healed, I took a deep breath and returned to my starting position without a word. Yven might have volunteered, but I didn’t approve one bit of the method used to get me to display my healing. He was clearly devoted to his queen and whatever cause he believed he was submitting to, but if anyone didn’t seem right in the head, it was him.
Diwella looked at me with a bored expression, then resorted to studying a loose string on the hem of her sleeve.
Pullhelli tapped his cane. “Ruby the Red has proven she can heal. She might not have wings, but that is unquestionably a Fae power.”
Another of the female Primes cleared her throat. “Fae are not the only ones with healing power, my friend. I am not convinced.”
“While that is true, Soleiny, she is certainly no Phoenix,” Sanctor piped in, enticing a few laughs.
“Next power, then.” Pullhelli pointed his cane at me. “A force field. You can demonstrate on Yven.”
I hesitated, thinking Yven had contributed more than enough in this so-called trial. Then again, a force field was harmless. So, I conjured one around the young Fae.
Inside, Yven scrambled to his feet and knocked on the sphere, then resorted to kicking it. Every attempt sent one limb or the other bouncing back. He turned to the Primes and shrugged.
When satisfied with my Fae powers, Pullhelli wanted me to move on to Sorcery.
The Primes leaned forward in their seats. Even Diwella was scrutinising me with her gaze. I had proven I had Fae powers but having those combined with Sorcery, clearly warranted their attention.
With slow breaths, I patted Yven on the shoulder and sent him to the edge of the force field. It was about to get hot. Once there was enough distance between us, I reached for the fire eagerly awaiting my command. If they wanted a show, I would give them one.
It started with a tiny flame dancing in my palm, but it was enough to get the Primes to edge even further forward in their seats. In my mind’s eye, I conjured forth an image from the garden at the back of my house in Chester. It was the night when old William had ended his life, and little Willow began hers. I pictured the rise of the Phoenix in my head and spread my arms wide. Spiralling tendrils of fire blazed to the roof of the glassy dome. It was only a spear at first, then the flames merged and blended into new shapes until it looked like a pair of wings folded out from the burning core. They stretched along the force field, pushing against it with a tremendous force. The magic surrounding me rippled and shook under the weight of the immense heat. Outside, Diwella’s brows beaded with sweat as she clenched her fists, straining to keep the force field in place.
The fire roared as the blazing image of a Phoenix filled the dome. I waved my arms and grabbed at the air as if trying to catch the invisible rope holding onto the inferno, then pulled back, forcing the flames to retreat. They whooshed down and disappeared into my veins once more. Their residual hunger lingered in my veins until I compelled my fire to simmer down to a gentle heat, warming my skin.
I glanced at Yven with a sting of regret. He had folded himself into a ball, hands on his head, his clothes soaked through. Though terrified, he seemed unscathed. Outside, Miranar was on his feet, his face contorted in a horrifying grimace. Evelyne had grabbed Taryn’s hand, and I saw him grit his teeth as she all but crushed the bones in his fingers. The rest of the Primes looked equally shocked. All of them stared at me with a mixture of distaste, fear, and perhaps a tiny bit of awe.
All except Pullhelli. The old Sorcerer kept a straight face, but I couldn’t help but catch the smile in his vibrant eyes. “Well done, Ruby the Red,” he said. “Now, settle down, my fellow Primes, it is not done yet.”
As one, the Primes leaned back, and their faces returned to stony expressions. Diwella even managed to look bored again.
After my fire show, I continued to move Yven around the space with my telekinesis until I was told to stop.
Pullhelli stepped up to Diwella’s force field and tapped it once with his cane. “She seems to be telling the truth about what she is.” He turned to the Primes. “What say you?”
“An abomination,” Evelyne said, and I noticed Taryn briefly touch her shoulder. Unlike the Primes, he had stayed standing behind them. “But I am convinced.”
The rest of the Primes agreed.
“What else can you do?” Pullhelli enquired of me.
I shrugged. Should I show them every single trick up my sleeve? None of this proved I was Morgana’s blood. I might need to hang on to a trick or two. Then again, Morgana wanted the whole truth, and I had to show her I was more than a regular Fae or a regular Sorceress.
“I need shadows,” I said. “It’s too bright in here.”
“You mean to say you can Shadowwander?” Morgana’s voice rang out for the first time since this trial had begun.
I turned to her. “Yes.”
>
Pullhelli shook his head. “Even if that is true, we cannot allow you to display that power.”
I could understand why. If I was allowed to slip into the shadows, I would be able to escape, and they would have a hard time catching me. Especially if no one else in this room could do what I could. After all, from what I knew, only Merlin’s blood had this power. Perhaps not the wisest choice to have revealed I had it as well. I stared at Yven, who had his back arched in a submissive position. His eyes skated to mine, and he gave me a wink. He moved ever so slightly into the glare of a lantern, which silhouetted him, casting a shadow.
Without asking permission, I pulled the shadow to me, forming it in my mind’s eye until it was about my size and big enough to swallow me.
The Primes gasped, and I caught a glimpse of Diwella as her jaw dropped just before I stepped into the darkness. It was tempting to listen to its song and follow a trail of shadows out of the castle. The whispers clung to me like old friends, but I couldn’t stay, and I wouldn’t run. My friends depended on me, so I moved a few steps to the right and stepped back outside, placing my hands on my hips.
“Still here,” I said.
A growl issued before Morgana’s pet came into view, slinking around the force field and watching me with his moon-eyes. In the cage, Kit was back on his feet, pacing and yowling in response to the other predator. Morgana herself rose from her throne and stepped to the edge of the platform.
Pullhelli cocked his head, a smile curving his chapped lips. “What else?”
Good question. What else did I have to impress them with?
“Can you conjure light?” Morgana demanded, and I noticed something flicker in her eyes. Doubt, maybe?
I squirmed. “My mam could, but I can’t. Not like her, at least. I think that, maybe, because I have Sorcery, the light could not inhabit me at the same time.” Or something. Where had that come from? I hadn’t really given it much thought before, but it seemed to fit.
Morgana nodded solemnly as if disappointed. “Then you are not of my blood.”