by Sarah Kleck
But time was on my side; I gained strength every day. Every soul I absorbed, no matter how rotten, contributed its share to healing my wounds. I would soon have my old strength again. Then I would strike back—and kill them all. My sister’s brood would be wiped from the face of the Earth once and for all.
Eowyn. I had always hated her. She killed our mother, who bled to death during the birth of the second twin. What was left were two motherless children competing for their father’s affection. I saw through her hypocritical attempts to manipulate me with her feigned love. But her act worked on our father. He always preferred her, though there wasn’t the slightest difference in our appearance. I was the only one who recognized what she was really like: driven by envy and ill will toward her own sister. Eowyn knew I was the stronger, better one of us. She couldn’t bear that.
I discovered my abilities early, and even though Mother was no longer there to teach me their use, I learned fast. I was a natural. Always better than my sister. She was careful handling her magic. Shied away from exploring its limits. Finding out what she was really capable of. But timid and weak as she was, she had our father’s full attention. I, on the other hand, was punished harshly for even the slightest misstep.
One day, when I was ten years old, the stable boy caught me testing my abilities on the beastly dog that always nipped at my heels. The stable boy grabbed me by the arm, pulled me aside, yelled at me, and threatened to tell Father what I had done. He called me a changeling.
What happened next was his fault. He wronged me. If he hadn’t angered me so much . . . I was still a child. A child that didn’t know what she was capable of and how destructive her powers could be. I didn’t want to kill the stable boy—it was an accident.
But Father beat me black and blue. Eowyn rushed in, pulled his arm, pleaded tearfully for him to spare me. It spared me more of a beating, but I had seen through her deceitful intervention. It served one purpose alone—to deepen Father’s disfavor of me. She wanted his love for herself. And she got it. Eowyn was his darling. Father could hardly wait to drive me from the house.
When we came of marriageable age, he selected a husband for me while she got to remain for another year with him. At first I resisted and begged Father not to marry me off to a complete stranger. But one look at him, and I was struck in the heart. Kenneth Calmburry was a dream of a man: strong, gorgeous, powerful, and from a good family. My sister was green with envy. She wanted to have him, just like she wanted everything else that was mine. But I was the older one. Father had selected Kenneth for me. Those were the plans for me. A life at his side.
I loved him. Loved him so much. Not a love as humans are capable of experiencing it, no. I loved Kenneth the way gods love one another. But he wanted her. Eowyn. My twin sister.
The humiliation ripped a hole inside me that hasn’t yet closed, a wound that has never stopped bleeding. Her happiness was my torture. She had taken everything from me—Mother, Father’s love, and my beloved. Eowyn was living my life, and no spell could relieve my torment.
She bore him eleven children. Three I cursed on the day they were born. They died before their first birthdays. Eowyn, who suspected I was behind the deaths, laid a mighty protective spell on her family. I couldn’t break the spell, so I cursed the fields. The harvest failed. A famine visited the country, and I succeeded in killing two more of her brats. The four remaining sons—Mael, Byron, Kelby, and Merlin—as well as the two girls, Imogen and Moyra, were protected all the more. I couldn’t break the magic, so I decided to take Eowyn’s powers for myself. I used her weapons against her. I lured her into a trap with feigned love and a dishonest wish for reconciliation. But she betrayed me and tried to kill me with her magic, though she knew it would cost her own life. I survived, although it took years for me to regain my strength.
When I’d recovered, I dared trying to win Kenneth’s love. I went to him. Still grieving, he took fright, calling me by my sister’s name, thinking she had returned. I didn’t contradict him and finally led the life that was my destiny. A life at his side. Until the day Merlin returned home from his travels and recognized me for who I was.
Kenneth believed the boy, so I revealed myself. Told Kenneth that he could start a new life with me since Eowyn was dead. But he spurned me a second time. Pushed me away and told me to get out of his sight.
His rejection filled me with rage. I wanted to see him suffer. He needed to suffer the way I had suffered. So I confessed that it was I who had killed his beloved wife and five of his children.
He put his hands around my neck, his eyes burning with immense hatred. Die, witch! Die!
He meant to kill me and left me no choice. I conjured up the darkest forces, pleaded with them to save me, and consigned my soul to them in return. They heard me. Gave me power. More power than I had ever known before.
I killed Kenneth. My love was dead. One thing remained: Revenge! Revenge on the brood of that woman responsible for my misery. None of her offspring must live.
But I couldn’t kill them, for my sister’s protective spell was stronger than ever before. I had to take a different approach.
First, I cast a spell of discord on the remaining family members to drive a wedge among the siblings. It did not fail me. An intense quarrel broke out over Kenneth’s inheritance. The strife I had sown in the family lifted the protective magical veil.
One day, three of the six heirs gathered with their families in the parental home to divide Kenneth’s possessions amongst themselves. That night I cursed one of the children. In his sleep, the boy wandered through the castle to the stables, where he lit the animals’ fodder with an oil lamp. Mael, Byron, and Imogen died in the fire with their families. I let them burn the way I did. Burn with the pain raging inside me.
But three still lived. Kelby, Merlin, and Moyra had stayed out of the dispute, so Eowyn’s spell still protected them. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get to them.
If it wasn’t in my power to kill them, I could at least see to it that Eowyn’s line died out. First I sent Irish monks who converted Moyra to Christianity and persuaded her to lead an austere life as a nun. She never had any children.
Kelby loved a woman on whom I cast a spell of infertility. So he, too, was without heirs. Only Merlin resisted. He never loved anyone enough for me to subjugate him. I was never able to grasp him. None of my curses were powerful enough to hit him. But I did not give up. Waiting paid off. One day, an unexpected opportunity opened: Nimue. He loved her with his whole heart. She left her home for him. Left her magic on Avalon to be with Merlin as a human. It was almost too easy. I kidnapped her, threatened to kill her, and succeeded in getting Merlin to enter a pact. I had learned from my errors, had realized that magic cannot be taken. Magic must be given. I was prepared for a trick, but Merlin was still able to betray me, just as his mother had. Yet again, I barely escaped with my life, and, as before, it took years to regain my old strength. I decided to find a helper. More yet, I needed an army. Merlin was dead, but he had set a horde of descendants loose in the world. I swore I would find them. Every last one. And wipe Eowyn’s heirs from the face of the Earth. So I did. I killed all of them—except one. Jared Calmburry is the last of them. The final heir of Merlin, the final heir of Eowyn.
“Someone’s here.” Mad Willie reached for his sword. Of all the damnati who had survived the battle of Avalon, he had been in my service the longest. Once, he was a mighty pirate lord, stabbed to death in his sleep by his mutinous first officer. He had become my faithful servant, had carried me from the island when that girl cheated me out of my magic.
“I know.” I had felt the demon when he was still miles away.
“It’s been a long time,” I said, without turning around.
Old Nick stepped from the shadows, slowly approaching me.
“Mistress?” Mad Willie asked. I lifted my hand to halt him. Old Nick and I had long been acquaintances. Our paths had crossed several times over the centuries. He’d never attacked me.
The demon had a soft spot for me.
Old Nick took off his worn top hot, gallantly bowed, and kissed the back of my hand without taking his eyes off me.
“It’s always a pleasure to see you again, dearest. You’re as beautiful as ever.”
“Flattery won’t do you any good. I thought we’d gotten beyond that.”
“That wasn’t flattery, dearest, only the plain truth.” He straightened up again, then put on his hat.
I put on my superior smile. “What do you want, Nick?”
“I want to help you,” he answered, pacing in my confined quarters.
“Help me?” I raised my eyebrows. “Stop the games, and get to the point.”
“What has earned me your reproach, dearest?” he asked, ever the hypocrite.
I snorted. “I’ve known you long enough to know you haven’t come to me out of kindness. So, what do you want?”
“Why do you question my integrity? It’s inauspicious. I really want to help you. We serve the same power. That makes us allies, doesn’t it? I’m merely concerned for your well-being, dearest. A creature of such exquisite beauty should not be forced to spend her days in such”—he made a sweeping motion with his cane, went over to the bunk beds, took the corner of one of the wool blankets between his thumb and index finger, and rubbed it before turning away with a look of disgust—“accommodations. It’s unworthy of you, dearest.”
“Stop calling me ‘dearest.’”
“What have I done to anger you?”
I curled my lips. “So you want to help me, right?” If he wants to play, then let’s play.
“Certainly, dear— . . . Morgana.”
“Then, as you surely know, I’ve been cheated out of my magic.”
“It’s my understanding that it wasn’t your magic that you were cheated out of but the magic of others you’ve incorporated over time.”
I answered him with an icy look.
“But that’s just splitting hairs,” he deflected. “To answer your question, yes, I did hear about it.” A twitch at the corner of his mouth revealed his glee.
“As you’ve correctly noted, this forces me to spend my days in this”—I spread my arms—“accommodation.”
He nodded. “Correct,” he said with a stretch. There was a touch of distrust in his look.
“So if you want to help me, give your magic over to me.”
He chuckled. “My apologies, love, but I can’t do without my shadow magic.”
My look darkened, and my voice sounded deep. “Then why don’t you tell me why you’re really here.”
His mood turned serious. The game was over. “I want the girl.”
“The girl?”
“That girl, Evelyn.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
I looked at him, weighing his words. Was he trying to trick me? “What do you want with her?”
“That’s no concern of yours.”
I gave him a long look, tried to unravel the lie. He was telling the truth. If all he wanted was the girl, why not? Evelyn must exercise a strong attraction for someone like him. I had felt it myself when I absorbed her soul. She was so pure, so unspoiled, and so vulnerable because of all the pain and grief she had suffered. Truly perfect. I had to admit that it had been difficult for me to separate from her. What were his plans for her? In the end, it didn’t matter to me what happened to her. Still, I hesitated. I had always dealt with the basest sort of human being. Murderers, thieves, rapists. It was always the worst who grasped after any straw in the face of death. They were the ones who were willing to serve me to evade their just punishment. I had gathered entire legions of the damned over the centuries. For that is what they were—damned. Damnati. They had always proven useful, yet I despised the hideous creatures.
“You want the boy, don’t you?” Old Nick asked, seeming impatient.
“Yes, I want the boy.”
“Then the rest need not trouble you.”
“You can deliver him, just like that?” I asked skeptically.
“Not quite, but I have something else for you that will bring you much closer to your goal. You’re still very weak. Worrisome to imagine what the boy would do to you in your current state.” Old Nick grinned. “To be honest, you’ve seemed a bit out of shape for some time. Wagging tongues claim that this schoolgirl nearly finished you off.”
I whirled around angered. “She’s Nimue’s heiress. She bears her magic!”
He raised his hands defensively. “All right, all right. It’s just that I thought after the fiascos with Eowyn and Merlin you wouldn’t almost croak a third time trying to transfer someone’s magic to yourself.”
How did he know that? “What are you trying to say?” I took on a threatening posture.
“I thought you’d be better prepared.”
“I was.” I had become loud without wanting to.
Old Nick made a swiping hand motion. “Never mind,” he said. “I want the girl, and in return I can give you something that will let you recover your strength much faster.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “And that would be?”
“Light magic,” he answered, waiting to see if I’d take the bait. And I did. The idea alone almost made me euphoric. During the years I had possessed this magic, I had become familiar with its capabilities. To disappear and reappear wherever one wished, as impossible to catch as light itself.
“You know a light guardian?” I asked, trying to appear casual.
“A woman who’s a light guardian,” the demon specified, grinning. “But not just any; it’s the one whose magic was once . . . yours.”
I looked up. “Mary Hayman’s daughter?”
“That’s the one.”
“How do you plan to get her? Not to mention get her to give up her magic?”
Old Nick took a deep breath. “I’ve been roaming this world for a very long time,” he said slowly. “There’s much I’ve learned about humans. They’re selfish, greedy, cowardly, and vicious.” He grinned, showing his pointy teeth. “But to save those they love, people are willing to give just about anything.”
CHAPTER 24
The drive from Oxford to London was one long torment, with the acrid stench of our guest spreading inside the car. We had to keep the windows open all the way. As soon as we arrived in the garage of the headquarters, we rushed out of the car.
“My God.” Colin coughed. “Does that shit ever smell!”
Even Ian, who had the self-control of a palace guard, turned his nose up in disgust.
“Ian, would you be so kind as to get him to the dungeon,” Irvin said.
I looked at Jared, surprised. “There’s a dungeon here?”
He shrugged. “It’s a really old house.”
Enid, closely followed by Jessica, came down the stairs and put her arms around Jared, then Colin and me at the same time. Her face was covered in tears. The news of Gareth’s death had hit her as hard as the rest of us. Maybe even harder. “Come,” she said, trying to sound encouraging. “Hilda has made you something to eat.”
“Evelyn,” Enid’s daughter shyly squeaked as she tugged on my jacket.
“Hi, Jessie.” I bent down to pick her up. She put her slender arms around my neck with a firm grip and buried her face in my shoulder.
Enid kept crying during the meal. Irvin did his best to comfort her. Gareth must have meant so much to her. I also found it difficult to hold back my tears. Jared didn’t say a word. He looked into the distance, stone-faced. I barely managed to eat a bite. No one seemed to have much of an appetite. Not even Colin.
“Where did you find the damnatus?” I asked. The silence was unbearable.
“Down in the bunker,” Colin answered with lowered eyes. “There were four of them. Blocked our way—we killed three right away.”
“And Morgana?”
Colin shook his head. “Ruth came before we were able to penetrate further into the bunker. She told us two of our people
were dead and she was only able to save you at the last minute.”
Tears again rolled down Enid’s beautiful face.
“Of course, Jared immediately went with her.” Colin paused, then added: “But I’m sure we were very close.”
“I’m so sorry.” I lowered my eyes. If I hadn’t insisted on going into the tunnel, they would have probably caught Morgana. And Gareth and Adam would still be alive.
“It’s not your fault,” Jared said. It sounded as if he wasn’t sure of that. He pushed his untouched plate aside, placed his hand on Colin’s shoulder, and got up. “Let’s go.”
When I entered the underground room aptly described as the “dungeon,” it was like being projected back into the Middle Ages. It had stone walls, chains, iron manacles. There were even torches on the walls.
“This room was never changed,” Jared explained when he noticed my disturbed look. “It’s just as it was when this house was built.”
“You don’t say.”
The damnatus was cowering in chains on the floor. Broad metal cuffs were fastened to his wrists and ankles.
Jared stepped in front of him, flanked by Colin and Ian. Irvin and Enid stayed in the background with me. Jared looked at the creature for a very long moment. He just stood there and stared. Then he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Your name?” Jared’s voice was hard and cold.
The prisoner was silent, averting his eyes.
“Your name?” Jared repeated. You didn’t have to know him particularly well to know that he wouldn’t ask a third time.
The damnatus didn’t answer again.
Jared clenched his teeth, extended his right arm, and produced a pulsating energy ball in his hand—it almost looked as if his arm was burning—and thrust it into the damnatus’s chest. His scream echoed throughout the room.