by M. D. Grimm
I looked straight ahead, not meeting any of their eyes, and resolutely approached my mentor. I cursed my damp hands. Shielded blue eyes met mine, and I noticed the change in his stance even if his expression remained blank.
“If you would please excuse me,” Master Ulezander said politely to the two mages. Then he nodded to me and gestured for me to keep walking. I did, and he fell into step beside me. He was taller than I, most everyone was, and far broader. He was a big guy, and the only thing indicating his many years was his gray hair and a few subtle wrinkles on his face.
I’d seen Elder Elorn out of the corner of my eye and though his expression was as stone, I noticed the twitch in his jaw. It burned my gut to see him, and vivid memories of our duel came to the forefront of my mind. He tried to kill my niece, Lyli. He’d tossed her over the cliff, and then he sent my brother flying after her. My hands clenched tightly, painfully, nails digging into flesh.
“Easy,” Master Ulezander said sotto voice, obviously sensing my anger or seeing the twitch in my hands. He gripped my arm and kept walking. We were well outside of earshot when he finally stopped, with nothing but a copse of trees and long grass and a few twittering birds as our witnesses. Then he made a small gesture with his hand and an invisible dome formed around us, blocking us from eyes and ears that might wish to eavesdrop. His eyes glowed faintly with the effort before settling back to their normal shade. “Breathe, Morgorth.”
I did. I also yanked my arm out of his grip and paced, my hands firmly at my sides. “Mother damn revenai spawn!”
Master Ulezander let me pace for a time, working off my mad, the heated flash of it. I eventually shoved my magick down and stopped pacing, turning to face him. He simply watched me, head slightly tilted, hands now behind his back.
“I want to snap his neck.”
He nodded once. “Move past it.”
I blinked. Snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Elissya said you were looking for me. What is it?”
“You aren’t familiar with these proceedings, and I wanted you to hear about them from me.”
My stomach dropped. That didn’t bode well. I nodded.
“Right now, this is simply information gathering. There are a lot of he said, she said, and hearsay. We need to hear the facts and truths from those who are part of the situation and those who witnessed it.”
“Speaking of witnesses, how’s my brother?”
Master Ulezander smiled for the first time since seeing me. “He’s well.”
I blew out a breath, the tension in my shoulders easing. “Good.”
“I also have to commend you on your protection detail for him.”
I kept my face carefully blank. I couldn’t forget he was still council and Hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Approval shown his eyes and he inclined his head. If I didn’t admit to anything, they had no proof I sent boygles to guard my brother and his daughter. I wasn’t surprised Uzzie had seen them. I doubted anyone else had. I wouldn’t punish them for being found out by him.
“First you and Elder Elorn will give statements as to the events that transpired in Zentha,” he said. “The elders will ask you questions, and I recommend you give as much information as you can. After you two have spoken, the witnesses will be brought forth to give their testimonies. If you leave out any significant detail you will be questioned ruthlessly on it after the witnesses are done.”
There was something he wasn’t telling me. I eyed him blatantly.
He cleared his throat. “This is the part you won’t like.”
“I already don’t like it.”
“Both witnesses must be put under a spell.”
My eyes widened. “No. No way in Underworld are any jackals from the council spelling Aishe and my brother. I won’t allow—”
“Morgorth.” His voice snapped, cutting off my rant before it really got started.
I gritted my teeth, gripping my jacket.
“Listen to me. The spell is needed to get the absolute truth from the witnesses. As you said, the witnesses are your brother and your mate. Who do you think the elders will expect them to lean toward in their testimonies?”
I scowled.
“The spell ensures impartiality. They will be put into a trance and from there they will be asked to recite events. They will, without any emotion or personal attachments. Then they will be asked questions to clarify, if need be. Then the spell is lifted. That is it.”
My magick churned, burning my veins. “No one is spelling my mate or my brother.”
He frowned. “You don’t have a choice—”
“You think I trust any one of them with the minds of those I care for? You think I don’t see some plan in that maneuver, a plan to control them somehow, to get to me? Why don’t you see it?”
“It’s the same spell that has been used for ages. It is a communal spell, one known only to the elders and only used by them. We don’t say the word aloud, only in our heads.”
“And you don’t see a problem with that?”
“I know the elders. They may not personally like you, but right now they are far more motivated to discover what laws Elder Elorn broke, as he is part of the council and Hand. They might be rigid in their way of thinking but they would never willingly sabotage this inquiry.”
“I’m sure you would have said the same thing about Elorn before this. Right?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
He narrowed his eyes at my tone. I snorted and shook my head.
“Face it, Master, you aren’t paranoid enough. And considering you’re on the council and Hand, that’s rather shocking.” My mouth twisted. “They aren’t infecting your mind against me, are they?”
His eyes burned, the glow bright, and I instantly regretted my words.
“Pardon me?” His voice lowered, turning deadly soft.
I hunched my shoulders as if I was a child again, and I said or did something worthy of punishment. I grumbled an apology.
“I didn’t hear you,” he said, his voice becoming hard as stone.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“I will never betray you.” When said in that hard, quiet voice, remembering what he’d done for me over the years, my face heated in shame. I nodded, my throat threatening to close. The silence stretched out between us. I finally broke it, turning back to the dilemma at hand.
“You can’t tell me most of the council doesn’t want me dead. That the Hand doesn’t want me dead. I’m still the seventh son of a seventh son. If they kill Aishe, they kill me. And Olyvre—” I stopped, fear choking me. I only just found my brother again, blood of my blood. I couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not so soon.
“You love him,” Master Ulezander said. I looked at him. “I’m glad. He’s kind and could be a good influence on you.”
“He’s more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t expect to speak about it but for whatever reason, something compelled me. “He saved me that night. I escaped that cell, a little knife in my hand. The door was near, so close I could taste my freedom. Then I thought of my father and how much I wanted to kill him.” I looked at my hand, could see the knife. “I imagined stabbing him, and seeing and feeling and tasting his blood. I wanted to kill him so badly. I would have been caught, if I tried. I never got the chance because Olyvre saw me. I was so scared he’d shout the alarm. Then he shoved me out the door and told me to run. To run and never look back.”
I realized then I’d never told Master Ulezander about that night. Not in details. Only Aishe knew everything. Uzzie knew about the torture and abuse, about Matylde and Lazur, about me being a seventh son of a seventh son. Yet I never told him how I escaped that night. All I’d ever said was I escaped, found my magick in a cave, and then he found me in a pub in Illum.
Swallowing hard, I looked at him. He immediately turned his head away, and I thought
I saw a sheen in his eyes. I froze. Never once, for as long as I’d known him, had I ever seen him cry. I’ve seen him happy, angry, irritated, weary, frustrated, disappointed—all caused by me at one time or another—but never sad. Never remorseful or filled with grief. He never let me see that.
When he looked back at me he was composed again, his eyes dry. Had I imagined it?
“As I said, he is kind and a good influence on you.”
I shook my head. “No, he’s cursed because of me. He’s been drawn into mage business just like Aishe. He’s become a target, just like Aishe.”
“Do you think he would change things if he could? Do you think he would reject you even if he truly understood the danger surrounding him?”
I stared at the Tower and shook my head, once again feeling wonder at those in my life, those who cared about me. I didn’t deserve any of them, and I would fight to keep them near. “No. Master, I only trust you. If you cast the spells on Aishe and Olyvre, then I’ll shut up. That’s the only way I’ll let this happen. If you don’t cast the spell, I will take them both out of here and the inquiry will stop before it begins.”
“Hastiness was always a problem of yours.”
I met his eyes. “Please.”
He smiled, eyes softening. “I am well within my rights to do so. Even if I wasn’t, I greatly doubt you could have taken on the council by yourself.”
My magick rose and flashed, burning near the surface. My eyes turned amber and glowed, my skin a white luminescence. “Watch me.”
Master Ulezander looked unimpressed. “Be careful how you speak and what you say in there. Don’t shy away from the truth, and don’t be afraid to explain your reasons for your actions, however personal.”
“I’m not the one in the wrong, here. You know that, right?” I suddenly, desperately needed him to know that. My face heated and my palms sweated.
His entire expression softened, his voice gentled. “Yes, I do know that.”
I took a careful breath. That was something, at least. I considered him for a silent moment.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
He let out a quiet sigh. He wasn’t confused by my question. “You weren’t ready to know.”
I scrunched up my face. “Don’t start with that horseshit. That’s the most overused deflector in history. You knew about my father and Matylde and all the rest. The potion he used to poison my mother. You knew all of it and you didn’t say one word. Not one damn word.”
My voice grew louder as I spoke, and I clenched my hands into fists, nails digging into my palms. I barely felt the pain. I didn’t flinch from his narrowed gaze, directed at my attitude.
“Do you remember what you were like?” he asked. “Do you remember who you were and what you felt? Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you could have handled the full truth of your father’s depravity? That you could have handled it then, or even a year ago?”
I clenched my jaw and spun away from him, my muscles tight, my magick flashing hot near the surface. It only simmered instead of burned, proving my control over it. I closed my eyes and took steady breaths, forcing my racing heart to slow its pace.
“You knew all of it. Everything he’d done. Even that I had a half-sister.” I turned back to him, not looking him in the eye. “Why didn’t you kill Matylde? She was a sorcerer.”
“Why didn’t you kill her?”
I flinched at his counter. I looked at the trees, not really seeing them. Instead, I saw the wretched shack Matylde and Lorelei lived in. I saw and smelled the poverty of their lives, the pitiable state of their existence. I suspected we had the same reason for not killing Matylde.
“You could have spared me a lot of pain if you’d just told me.”
Tense silence fell between us, thick as fog. I still stared at the trees when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Master Ulezander approaching me. He stepped closer and, in an unexpected gesture of affection, cupped my cheek. Surprise had me snapping my eyes back to his face. His hand was warm and slightly callused, the touch gentle. It had been a good long while since he touched me in such a way. His expression was soft, exactly the way he’d looked at me when I was a child.
My breath caught.
“I would spare you all the pain in the world, if I could.”
I believed him. Despite his secrets about my family, he’d never given me any reason not to trust him. My stomach twisted.
“None of it was for me to tell you. With pain comes strength. With pain comes experience and knowledge. You had to return to the beginning. You had to return with Aishe and find your own answers. You did. Now you are stronger for it.”
Am I?
I nodded.
He shifted his touch to my chin, pinching it between thumb and index finger. Then he dropped his hand and took a step back, breaking the intimate moment. I had to fight the impulse to touch the cheek his hand had cupped.
I would never tell anyone, though I suspected Aishe knew, that Master Ulezander was my father in all the ways that mattered. It was a relationship I depended on, one that formed the foundation and influenced all my future relationships. Apparently, it was a good one since I had not only Aishe but also Elissya and Enfernlo, my payshtha friend. And now Lorelei and Olyvre and his daughter, Lyli. I had those who loved and trusted me. Depended on me. How the fuck had that happened?
I swallowed hard and looked back at the Tower. My mind reverted to why I was here in the first place. I didn’t know what I would say or how I would say it. There was no way to prepare for this since I had no idea how Elder Elorn would play it. Or did I?
I looked back at Master Ulezander. “It’s a popularity contest, isn’t it?”
He said nothing, only watched me. Once again, he appeared to comprehend where my mind had leapt.
“That’s how he’ll play it, right?” I said. “I already have black marks against me, and the council, certainly the Hand, already hates me. They only need one excuse to execute me. Elorn will try to give that to them. He’ll use whatever he has at his disposal.” I saw it then, as if I could see inside Elorn’s mind. “He’ll use my father. The ‘father-like-son’ argument.” I ran my fingers through my hair and tugged. “He’ll use my upbringing. He’ll tell them....” My secrets. My childhood. He’ll tell them all what I wished to keep hidden. If I had any hope of survival, I’d use the same argument, and turn it around. Somehow.
“It’s time, Morgorth,” Master Ulezander said. His voice held an unusual tone. I reluctantly met his eyes again. “Show them who you are, who you really are. They can only understand when they know all the facts.”
“It’s none of their business.”
“No, it’s not. But if Elorn uses that card, what choice do you have? You must win.”
“Don’t most of the elders already know the details? I mean, when the Hand came to kill me....”
“Some know the barest details. At the time, I only knew the barest details. They need a reminder. You must remind them: about who you are, what you’ve been through. The trials you have faced.”
My mouth dried. Remind them. I knew what he meant. They needed to see me, to see the ugliness of abuse, the proof of what I suffered, that I was real flesh and blood just as they were. I felt as they did, I laughed and cried. I wasn’t a monster devoid of feeling. I was as flawed as any other mage.
“Who I really am, huh?” I whispered. “None of you may like who that is.”
He frowned.
My heart pounded faster. “What if I am my father’s son?”
“What are you saying?”
I abruptly voiced something I hadn’t even told Aishe. “Lazur’s last words to me were, ‘you’re just like me. I’m so proud of you.’” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat. I backed away from him, desperately wishing I could take those words back. They’d been echoing in my head ever since my father said them. Echoing right beside all the other words of hatred I had heard my entire life, making a chorus of hate and anger a
nd fear that often kept me up at night. Aishe didn’t know. I meant to tell him, but it was so hard to push the words past my throat.
I kept my eyes averted from Uzzie. “He said those words,” I said, compelled to finish it. “Right after I tortured him. I tortured him, Master. I broke him, tore him up. He said those words and then I strangled him with my bare hands.” I could still remember how it felt, I still saw that moment in my dreams. “I saw life leave him, then he was just a corpse. But that wasn’t enough. I cracked the earth open and kicked him into the fissure, then closed it around him.” I shook my head. “I was that monster again, the one you took down all those years ago. I was him once more. Aishe saw it all.”
Silence fell between us again. Shame and fear kept my eyes lowered. I’d failed Master Ulezander. I promised never to become that monster again and, despite the reasons for breaking it, the fact was I had broken it. I relied so much on Master Ulezander’s support, his belief in me, and his trust. Had I lost it all?
“Morgorth, look at me.” His tone made me feel like a child once again.
I looked at him after a fierce, internal struggle, afraid what I might see. His expression was blank. I couldn’t read it.
“Who do you want to be?”
I blinked. “Pardon?”
“It’s a simple question. Who do you want to be? Not what they say you are, but what you want.”
I stared at him, confused. Then my mouth moved before checking in with my brain. “I want to be the best mate for Aishe.” Oddly enough, the moment the words were out of my mouth, I knew them to be the absolute truth.
Master Ulezander smiled. I blinked in shock. “And?” he said, prompting.
“And....” I was stunned by what entered my mind. “I don’t want to be a villain anymore.” My eyes widened. “I’m not a hero. I’m not a villain. I’m a dark mage. Aishe shouldn’t hear that anymore, he shouldn’t have to deal with that shame, that stigma.”