Mageborn: An absolutely gripping fantasy novel (The Hollow King Book 1)

by Jessica Thorne

  ‘Take me to Grace.’

  ‘Your highness, we should wait for morning. The city at night isn’t—’

  ‘This cannot wait. There was a drink… I think I tasted it before but… I can’t… Simona, I can’t remember…’ He frowned, trying to bring back those fading memories. What else had he forgotten? How many times had this happened? His memories were all he had. He knew that. If they were gone, if they were draining away…

  Simona seized him, shook him, her expression suddenly frantic. ‘What drink? Bastien? What did they give you?’

  ‘It was sweet,’ he said and stopped. He couldn’t recall. The memories were sliding away like rain on a window pane. ‘Sweet and sharp…’

  She turned away, dragging out keys and unlocking a cabinet behind her, swearing violently as she did so.

  ‘Simona!’ he snapped and she turned sharply, her expression full of anger and dismay. Whatever she had found, or not found, she wasn’t happy.

  If you need me, you know where I am.

  ‘I need her. Grace. We have to go now.’

  Chapter Nine

  Craine took the news without flinching. Someone must have already sent word. Daniel and Ellyn had still been waiting for her outside so it hadn’t been one of them. Some official from the court no doubt.

  ‘What does it mean, adjunct to the Royal Guard?’ Grace asked. ‘What does that even mean?’

  ‘It means he’s seconding you to the palace. To mind his cousin, a man who has had more assassination attempts in the last few years than…’ She shuffled through the papers and then sighed. ‘Than anyone in the history of the city, it seems. Stay here tonight, and go back in the morning. That’s time enough.’

  ‘And my team, ma’am.’

  Craine gave an exasperated noise and pushed herself up from the desk. She slotted her crutches under her arms and crossed the room to stand in front of Grace. ‘You want to take them with you? In there?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll need someone at my back, won’t I? I’m not finished investigating him. Just because I get a promotion and a role babysitting him doesn’t mean he’s innocent. He killed Kai, after all. I… I watched him do it.’

  Craine drew in a shaky breath and let it out again. She reached out a gnarled hand, more used to the sword than this sort of interaction, and placed it against Grace’s cheek. It was the most human gesture she’d ever seen from her commander, let alone experienced. It shocked her into silence.

  ‘Grace, Kai was dying from the moment you brought him out of that house and you know it. If Larelwynn did anything…’ there was a warning in the emphasis, Grace knew that ‘…it was to hasten the inevitable. It was a mercy.’

  Mercy. Right. Grace had looked into Bastien’s face. There wasn’t a scrap of mercy in him.

  But she swallowed hard and nodded. Because what else could she do? It wasn’t like she could refuse a royal command, because that was what this was. She didn’t have a choice. No more than Kai had when commanded to serve. No more than any of them had. She’d sworn an oath. And before that, she’d been sold off to the Academy. They owned her body and soul. And the Larelwynn crown owned the Academy, so by extension, she was theirs already.

  He’s blood royal, she reminded herself, and you belong to the crown, yesterday, now and forever.

  But Craine knew about things like this, through both official channels and unofficial. Even she and Lara shared pillow talk, surely.

  ‘As you say, Commander Craine.’

  Craine studied her for a moment or two longer and then seemed satisfied with what she saw. ‘Good. If the king himself has assigned you to protect Bastien Larelwynn, there must be a reason. That means it isn’t a job just anyone could do. Which means… he must be in terrible danger.’

  That was true. But from whom?

  The dark and endless eyes of the Lord of Thorns came to her mind’s eye. The way he’d stared at her, the way his very presence had drunk her in until she couldn’t think straight. Who could be a threat to him of all people? Who would dare?

  ‘Yes, Commander.’ Grace whispered the words, because she couldn’t find her voice properly. All she could think of was the way he’d felt against her, and the disdain in his voice.

  In all the years she had served, through all the monsters she had faced and all the deadly situations in which she had found herself, she had never felt herself so much at risk than with him looming over her. Who exactly needed protecting?

  ‘Keep your temper, Grace. And watch your mouth.’ Craine glanced towards the door of the office. She could hear movement outside and Grace wondered who was reckless enough to try eavesdropping. No doubt tales of her so-called promotion and her dismayed reaction to it would be flying around the city within the hour. If she was lucky the gossip might not reach Bastien, but she’d never felt like luck had any part in her life. He would not be flattered. But then, he couldn’t have missed her reaction at the time. She wasn’t that good an actress.

  Craine leaned in. ‘He’s dangerous,’ she whispered. ‘We all know that. Only a fool would think otherwise. But if someone else is out to hurt him, they must be even more dangerous. I’ll talk to Lara, see what she can tell me. Think of it as all those days of homage you owe, all run together.’

  Grace straightened, a stab of fear running through her. Craine knew her past, knew she’d been born a Flint but that the power was gone. But what else did she know? What else did she suspect?

  ‘I’ve never… I’ve never done a day of homage in my life.’

  Craine shook her head as if Grace was the densest new recruit she had ever encountered. ‘I’m sure he’s fully aware of that too. I mean it, Grace. Those with nothing to hide have nothing to fear. But… if you do have something to hide… Keep your head.’

  Easier said than done. People who crossed the royal family had a habit of losing their heads, and other vital body parts. Especially people who annoyed them more than once.

  She highly doubted that Bastien Larelwynn was in any way different.

  ‘I still want Daniel and Ellyn with me.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll see to it. Dismissed.’ Grace turned to go but Craine cleared her throat. ‘You’ll want to take those files of yours with you.’

  ‘Files, ma’am?’

  Craine nodded to a pile on the desk. ‘Your outstanding case files. The other dead mageborn. I don’t like work unfinished, Grace. You know that. And you should do some follow-up interviews. A few of those files mention alms taken from the Temple. Mother Miranda might be of help. I think you should ask some questions and see what you can find out. It’s on your way, after all. Take Childers with you. He’s good on the streets and did some work with the Temple wards last month. They’ll talk to him. You can send him back to me afterwards. I’m short-staffed enough, especially if you’re absconding with de Bruyn and Parry.’

  ‘Yes ma’am.’ She scooped them up, puzzled but keen to get back to her own quarters and out of the office. A crowd had gathered outside, her colleagues all eager for a good peer at her. Her former colleagues.

  All the Academy was buzzing. Like it or not, they all knew. Childers was on the desk, and he even managed to look slightly less bored about it than usual.

  ‘Heading up in the world, are we?’ he asked.

  ‘Not by choice, mate. And it looks like you’re coming with me. What happened with that mageborn Royal Guard I brought in? Griggs?’

  ‘Oh him,’ Childers groaned. ‘We had to let him go in the end. Just as well. Divinities, he never shut up moaning. Then the sigil came off about an hour after you left. Must have been a fluke.’

  ‘A fluke?’

  ‘That’s what Craine said. Andley tested him and everything turned up negative. As solidly quotidian as you and me, Grace.’

  That couldn’t have been right. Grace frowned as she pulled the report book to her, and there it was set out in Craine’s neat script. But she’d seen what Griggs had done. She’d felt the magic flowing through him as he’d tormented that poor boy for th
e amusement of his mates. She could still taste it like ozone at the back of her throat.

  But she couldn’t say that. Couldn’t tell them because that would mean admitting to those in authority over her that she had more than a passing affinity with the mageborn, which would of course lead to the question – was she still mageborn herself?

  Sigils didn’t bind her, but they reacted to her touch. Sometimes they malfunctioned. Sometimes they didn’t detect the weakest traces of magic. But not all the time. And it wasn’t exactly like they actually worked on her. But they worked for her faster than anyone else.

  Zavi had made one for her, more powerful than any other she’d ever owned. She touched it like a holy relic now, a blessing from the divinities themselves, something kissed by a glory. It was special, she knew that. And one day she might need it. One day soon.

  A sigil was always meant to be temporary. Maybe it just wore off faster. Or maybe… Divinities, she didn’t know. And she couldn’t say why it bothered her so much. But it did. When they’d tested her they’d found nothing. Perhaps she was imagining it. Every orphan wanted to be special after all.

  But she still dreamed of the Maegen. And of her lover in that golden light. That lover who reminded her so strongly of the Lord of Thorns. No quotidian dreamed like that.

  She wasn’t collared. It hadn’t been deemed necessary when she came here. There was no magic left in her. Once it had started to rekindle… well, she had guarded that secret. She didn’t want to be collared. Some of the mageborn might say it protected them, helped them channel and control the way they used magic, kept them from being lost in its depths, swept away in the stream, or pulled down into the Deep Dark beneath.

  But if that was true, why did so many run? Why did people actively flee Rathlynn instead of doing their duty and submitting?

  Why was it even called submitting?

  Those with nothing to hide have nothing to fear, said the law. Grace wasn’t sure about that one either any more.

  She shut herself in her room and opened the files, flicking through them. Losle Vayden, the Leanese victim from the docks, and several others. The earliest was ten years ago. They all had burns on the palms of their hands, and the magic drained completely from them. They were all young, fit and healthy. And dead, very very dead.

  How was she going to investigate this? True, Bastien had wanted to help her. That was what he said. But from the palace, not the city. Which already put her at a disadvantage. He was going to get in her way. She knew it. Just by being there.

  It was tough enough getting answers when you came from the Academy. Grace had contacts. They all did. But were any of them going to talk to her when she was accompanied by a prince of the realm, one who inspired more fear than anyone else?

  She curled her hand into a fist and slammed it down on the little desk as anger at the situation burst through her.

  Right in front of her eyes, the candle stub sparked, flickered, and then burst into flame.

  She reached out before she thought about it and wrapped her hand around it, squeezing until it went out. It didn’t burn. It ought to hurt. But it didn’t.

  ‘Grace?’ Daniel stood in the doorway, staring at her. Her breath caught in her throat. She snatched her hand back. He couldn’t have seen. Her body would have blocked him. She forced herself to relax just a little, just enough. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yes. Fine. Everything’s fine, Danny.’

  ‘It… it doesn’t sound fine.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware I was making a lot of noise.’

  ‘You know what I mean. What happened back there, at the palace? What did he do?’

  She almost laughed. Her heart was thrumming away inside her chest like a bird’s and she couldn’t quite get her breath. What if he had seen her hold the flame? What if…? But it was Daniel. She’d known him all her life.

  All the life she could remember anyway…

  ‘The king made me Bastien Larelwynn’s keeper. But that’s okay because Bastien himself wants to be the mageborn on our squad, or maybe wants us as his pet Academy officers or…’ She sagged forward, and Daniel caught her shoulders. Before she knew what was happening he was essentially holding her up.

  ‘Sit down,’ he told her. ‘Come on. When did you last just sit down and take a breath?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ But she did what he said anyway. They sat side by side on the low bed, and Grace tried to calm her breathing. She leaned forward, and the warrant coin dangled down in front of her. It clinked off Zavi’s sigil.

  ‘Is that…?’ he asked, hypnotised by the gleaming warrant.

  ‘Yes. The king’s coin. I think he… he used magic. Did you know that he has magic?’ She didn’t call Marius mageborn. She couldn’t. That would be a step too far.

  ‘The warrant’s magic. It enforces the vow of fealty, to hold the Lord of Thorns as seneschal, ties them together somehow. It’s part of the pact. We learned this, Grace, remember?’

  The Larelwynn pact. Lucien Larelwynn’s deal with the mageborn made after the defeat of the Hollow King. If they swore fealty to him, he would protect them. But only so long as they served.

  ‘When we first came here, yeah. You, me and Helene. I remember.’

  Helene would have known. Helene always remembered facts like that. But Helene was dead. Helene’s own powers had betrayed her. They’d almost taken Grace with her. She hadn’t been able to save her friend. Magic wasn’t made to save.

  Helene and Daniel had been the first people at the Academy to befriend her, when they were just cadets. She’d been sweet and gentle, a Tide who didn’t want to be a Tide. And her magic made sure of that in the end. It turned on her.

  ‘A king has to control the mageborn. Or someone with…’

  ‘The king’s warrant, yes, I know.’

  Grace picked up the coin again, held it in her hand, weighed it and felt the soft buttery metal warm against her skin. Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Daniel asked again. His hand touched her forehead and she didn’t even think to flinch back. Not from him. ‘Goddess, you’re burning up.’

  She pulled away. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Have a shower. Get some sleep. I’ll get the medic to look in on you.’

  ‘I said I’m fine.’ She didn’t feel feverish. Just warm, and she knew of old that was never a good thing. A shower – an icy cold shower – was an excellent idea. ‘But a shower sounds good. I’ll do that. Don’t worry, Danny. We’ll work through this.’

  ‘Ellyn and I will be with you all the way. Promise.’

  She stood up and then ruffled his hair. He was like a brother to her, always had been. He and Ellyn were closer than family. ‘I know, kiddo. And I’ll look after you. Promise.’

  She’d look after all of them. That was what she did.

  The shower helped, barely. It was stone cold and left her shivering and miserable. But the fire inside her was gone and that was all that mattered.

  She curled up in bed under a pile of blankets and tried to make herself go to sleep. The golden coin around her neck felt like it weighed more than anything else in the world. It tied them together, a magical tether. She’d worn it while she showered. She hadn’t dared to take it off. Despite the freezing water, it still felt warm.

  It nestled against her like an echo of Bastien’s touch.

  There was a pool in the garden where there had never been a pool before, as if a spring made of sunlight had bubbled up from beneath the ground. Instead of the regimented vegetable patches and fruit trees, everything was lush with bright flowers and thick foliage from the far south. Somewhere she had never been. Flowers she had never seen. So she knew it was a dream.

  This dream wasn’t the same. The light was there, the deep and endless pool. Its reflection bathed her skin and sparkled with energy. But she stood on the edge, in the cottage garden in the heart of the Academy, and where the well should have been the pool of Maegen glowed like the setting sun.

  The shape
under the surface was a dark mark, lost, drowning…

  She could sense Bastien, drifting, his mind dissolving in the light, his consciousness bleeding away until all that was left was raw power, desperate desire…

  And fear.

  Divinities, she could taste his fear like her own, metallic and harsh at the back of her throat.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Grace heard a woman’s voice say. ‘I’m here. I will take care of you. Of everything. You don’t need to remember. Let go, sweetheart. Let me be the one to command now.’

  She recognised the voice right away. Aurelie. The queen.

  He didn’t know what he was doing. She had to reach him. She reached out her hand and plunged it into the glowing pool, trying to grab him and pull him out.

  There was a drink. Grace could almost taste it, sweet and sickly, like the light itself given form. Like acid in his mind. ‘…Drink and forget…’

  ‘Bastien?’

  ‘Grace…’

  His eyes flickered open. He didn’t even seem to see her, or know where he was. He stared up at her through the light of the pool, helpless and confused. The misery in his voice was a spear in her chest.

  She didn’t think about it.

  It’s just a dream. That’s all it is. Just a dream. A nightmare.

  But she couldn’t leave him there like that. She plunged into the pool, feeling the glowing water of magic rush over her, through her, the power rippling around her, claiming her.

  Their fingers brushed against each other. But magic was greedy, dragging at him, pulling him from her. His eyes were open, staring at her in desperation. Inside them desire ran wild. Such dark desire.

  ‘Bastien!’ She couldn’t pull him clear. She was too weak.

  But she had to. She simply had to.

  She saw the room as if from a great height. He was sitting on some sort of long low seat, his expression confused, dazed. The golden-haired queen nestled in beside him, holding his face so she could kiss and caress him. Bastien’s hands closed on her body, trailed down her bare arms. The queen laughed, a deep and throaty laugh of lust and triumph.