by Erin Hayes
How things had changed. Most of those runes’ meaning had been lost over time, and the bloodlines diluted, until now here they were, with the weakest Regent yet.
Adira continued down the hill and across the open fields. She didn’t stop until she reached the outer fenceposts. Then she stood there, her toes flush against the border, and waited.
Although it started raining—a cold, autumn, daytime shower—Adira did not move. Not even when a Ravager stalked toward her on the other side of the electrical forcefield. She simply remained, standing stoic and staring it down.
She’d never been this close to one before. The energy radiating off the bolts alone were enough to repel any encroaching Ravagers, but if it took one more step—if it tried to cross the magical forcefield between the runestone posts—the clouds above would send down a fresh bolt of energy, shocking the hideous creature.
The forcefield, however, was not dangerous to humans or witches. Indeed, if anyone wanted to leave, all they needed to do was cross that boundary. But only foolish youth playing “chicken” ever dared test that theory. Who needed a forcefield to keep them in, when such monsters were on the other side?
The Ravager hissed, barring yellowed, fanged teeth, its face turned toward her as if it could see her without eyes, or smell her without any nose or nostrils to speak of. She could practically feel it’s breath on her face, could practically feel the balmy moisture radiating off its gray, almost-translucent skin.
These grotesque beasts had existed as far back as anyone knew. Long before Othala was divided into Sectors. The witches had hunted them, had kept them in check, for centuries before the beasts started multiplying in number too quickly to control.
At first, it had only been the humans who died. The witches could protect themselves. But as more and more humans died off, the magical source of the world faded. It was the existence of humans that fueled the magic the witches tapped into.
That was why the Original Sixteen saved the world.
The situation was now even more perilous than it was then. How could she turn her back on this? How could she let her choices be ruled by fear? No longer could she sacrifice the Sector to these beasts. No longer could she run from who she was meant to be…who she already was.
Black clouds spit down electricity at fenceposts in the distance, surely shocking another Ravager that had dared to take that final step. The one in front of her, however, remained still, aside from the heaving of its chest and the saliva dripping between its teeth.
Adira shuddered. Those clouds were centuries old, brought here by one of the Original Sixteen. One of the Othala Witches. And it was their bloodline that Regent Dvorak was trying to keep alive...his ancestor’s bloodline. Because without that, those clouds would fade. It would take a very powerful witch to create new magic to power the Sector, and with the original bloodline diluting more and more with each passing generation, they were not likely to find anyone like that.
But they had to try. Rumor had it that sometimes the human-born witches were the most powerful, because the Othala Witches themselves had been human born. Maybe Adira, though born to two human parents herself, was strong enough to spark something in the genes Dvorak would pass down. That’s all she needed. She didn’t need to be the strongest. She just needed to be strong enough that Dvorak’s child could repair the border’s runestones.
There was hope for that now. Only an Othala Witch could repair or make new border stones, but if Adira was able to repair and create other runestones, then between her ability and Dvorak’s bloodline, it just might be enough.
The time for Adira’s doubts had passed. Now she needed to trust who she was. She couldn’t let fear stop her, she couldn’t let desire for personal survival weaken her or make her shy away from a higher purpose.
Sector One couldn’t wait for another witch with her unique ability; no one could even recall the last time there had been a witch, Regent’s included, powerful enough to cast new runespells or revive ones that had burned out.
This was why Adira had to marry the Regent.
This was why it had to be her.
Chapter Sixteen
Alec had until tomorrow morning to find a better way.
The question was, a better way for what?
Did he hope to save Adira from being Queen? Or just to save her from being doomed? She would defeat the Ravager. He was sure of that much. But what about what came after that?
He’d been so consumed by his own selfish desires that he’d lost sight of who he was, in more ways than one. He hadn’t just soiled his loyalty to the Regent or to Sector One. He’d ruined his honor. He’d forgotten that none of this was about him.
As if not being with Adira should be his biggest concern. As if her life wasn’t still on the line, even now that she’d made such strides with her magic. Every Doomed Queen before her, he’d feared for them, worried what would happen if they didn’t fall pregnant.
And yet, with Adira, he’d been wrapped up in her sleeping with the Regent, instead of what would happen once she had.
Idiot.
Although he’d stormed the path back to the castle, as it came into view, he slowed. If there were answers anywhere in the Sector, they were inside that building. Somewhere…
Alec continued up to the castle doors and entered as quietly, letting one of the large double doors ease closed behind him. When the locking mechanism clicked, he winced. He turned around, surveying the foyer.
Empty.
It was post lunch hour, but Alec wasn’t sure by how much. Regent Dvorak was either out by the stables or in his study determining what magic he could spare the following day. He sometimes had hundreds of requests to go through, but that still didn’t give Alec much time to find what he was looking for—especially as he didn’t know what that was or where to find it.
He crept toward across the marble flooring to the grand staircase and headed up, mindful to keep his steps as light as someone his size could. At the top landing, he peered both ways down the hall to scout for any guards. It wasn’t that he wasn’t allowed to be where he was right now, but he wasn’t allowed to be where he was headed. He couldn’t have any witnesses.
Finding the halls clear, Alec took the corridor toward his room. Then he kept going. A few doors down, he stopped at the Regent’s room and listened.
Nothing.
He took a few more steps, even quieter than the last ones, and strained his hearing by the Regent’s office door. Paper’s shuffled. He was inside.
Alec grimaced, then took a deep breath, a step back, and another look around. And what exactly did he plan to do if he was seen anyway? Perhaps walk the rest of the hall to the upstairs great room that overlooked the city. He spent more time there than anywhere else in the castle. No one would think anything of it.
Still alone in the hall, however, that would not be necessary. As he wrapped his hand around the doorknob to the Regent’s bedroom, his heart pounded in his chest.
One, two, three, go.
Silently, he swished the door open just enough to fit through and just as quickly eased the door behind him. He pressed his back against the door, trying to keep his breaths quiet and calm. Panic would not serve him well.
For some reason, this situation struck more fear in him than being sent in the arena to face a Ravager. And why was he even doing this? Why didn’t he just knock on the Regent’s door and talk to him. After all, the Regent had saved his family and had given Alec everything he could ever dream of. He’d taken Alec under his wing and taught him everything he knew.
Somewhere along the way, a seed of distrust in the Regent had been planted in Alec’s core. Or perhaps that feeling was Alec’s own guilt. He was the one standing somewhere he shouldn’t be right now. He was the one keeping secrets from the Regent.
Well, there was no turning back now. He’d created this mess, and there was only one way to fix it, even if it meant barging further into the flames of the fire he’d set.
Alec surv
eyed the room, trying to look everywhere but at the large four-poster bed with purple satin sheets that Adira would soon sleep on. He swallowed, his gaze panning to the nightstand—bare—and then to the dresser. Equally bare.
Alec had never noticed before, but now that he thought about it, the entire castle was much the same way, as if no one lived here.
What did the Regent care about, other than this Sector? Who was he, as a man? There were no hints to that, not even in the most personal of the Regent’s spaces.
With no time to reflect on it, Alec crossed to the only thing of substance in the room. A bookshelf. Surely if there were any spellbooks of substance, they would be here.
Alec read the spines: Steinback, Austen, Lee, Fitzgerald, Eyre, Salinger, Orwell, Alcott… These were all fiction.
Alec deflated, tripping his finger along the edge of the books hoping to find one that stood out. But soon he reached the end of the shelf.
When footsteps echoed in the hall, Alec tucked his body against the wall beside the bookshelf and held his breath. The Regent? Another guard? The steps continued past, and he exhaled slowly. The wall behind him seemed to sigh with him—a slight give.
Alec spun around. A crack in the wall. The seam ran from ceiling to floor and caved from his weight.
A door.
But judging by the location, it either led into the Regent’s study or somewhere behind that. Did he dare chance that it was the former?
More footsteps in the hall. Alec cringed, waiting for them to pass, but this time, they didn’t. They approached. Paused at the door. The knob twisted.
Shit.
Alec didn’t even have time to take a breath. He slithered into the room on the opposite side of the covert door and pushed it shut behind him. It was dark in here. Alec didn’t dare breathe.
Whoever was in the Regent’s room—probably the Regent himself—shuffled past the floor right beside the hidden room. Stopped. Then crossed back again. Alec waited until the door clicked shut before taking another calming, but useless, breath.
His hand fumbled for a light, but there was none. The only light was from the lone window opposite him. The room was long and narrow, more like a wide hallway. The side backing up to the Regent’s office was stacked top to bottom with worn, leather bound books. At the far side opposite where Alec stood, an altar with strange carvings sat flush against a wall under a window, covered with a few candles and dishes.
The room was both frightening and promising. Alec didn’t have much time if he wanted to find answers and get them to Adira before the day was up.
Maybe he could give her one more day?
He shook the thought away. Dvorak was breathing down his neck. If Alec didn’t bring someone in soon, the Regent would find someone else. Someone who didn’t have near the chance Adira did at survival. And then Adira would be still next. It would only delay the inevitable and kill more people along the way. As much as Alec loved Adira, he couldn’t allow that to happen.
He started at the top shelf, left-most book and scanned through for anything that might stand out. A lot of the books were covered in a dusty film. Some had pages so brittle he thought reading them would cause them to crumble. A few revealed details of history he’d not been aware of, but nothing critical or particularly useful to Adira or her situation.
A lot of the books were handwritten, and Alec paused when one of the pages appeared to be smudged. He squinted, making out grooves and pale lines of markings beneath the words on the page.
Alec carried the book to the altar and stole a glance outside to be sure no one could see him here. Just the river and the trees. Still, he hunched down so even nature could not spy on him, and opened the book to read it in the low light spilling in through the window.
This was the book detailing the traditions. But as he scrutinized the pages, he realized the words had been changed. If a witch had wanted to change the words, they would have used magic.
Unless…
Unless they couldn’t afford to waste magic on it. Unless they thought no one would ever find out. Or notice. Or dare challenge it.
Unless the person who had changed the accounts was Regent Dvorak.
Swallowing around the pinch in his throat, Alec strained to make out the original words.
Fuck.
As the true traditions revealed themselves to Alec, his gut churned. His fingers curled against the stone tiles beneath him and his chest heaved. He nearly slammed his fist to the floor before his better sense reminded him he was somewhere he shouldn’t be right now. The last thing he needed to do was draw attention to himself, regardless how angry he was.
But this couldn’t be right. The Regent couldn’t have been the one to invent the rule of prospect queens fighting Ravagers to prove their worthiness. That would just be…murderous.
Everything Alec had ever done in his life had been for the good of the Sector. If things were as they seemed now, that meant he’d actually been acting out the whims of one evil, selfish man.
Alec closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. Right now, this wasn’t important. He couldn’t change the past, and Adira could defeat the Ravager. It was her life on the line right now. Her that he needed information to save. And if ultimately the demon she had to face was Dvorak herself, she would need something more than a history account to do it.
As he continued to read, trying to push away the other thoughts gnawing in the back of his mind, he only became more appalled at what was becoming evidently apparent: the Regent had access to some of the most powerful ancient spells. Spells that, the books claimed, any witch could use. Not just the Regent or the Queen. But as far as Alec knew, Dvorak had never shared any of these spells with anyone.
Was he purposefully keeping the magic secret from his wives? Was he waiting until they provided him an heir, or did he intend never to tell them? Was he worried a Queen might rise above him…that an heir of his would become irrelevant to an heir of hers?
Alec gently closed over the cover on the most powerful of the books he’d read and tucked it under the crook of his arm. He’d been wrong to trust the Regent. Wrong in everything he’d ever done before to protect the Sector.
It was time for things to change. It was time to protect the Sector from Regent Dvorak. Starting with Adira.
Chapter Seventeen
This was it. Adira’s last night before Alec turned her in. She felt…ready. But also a little sad. It’d been years since Adira had anything resembling family, and now that she finally had that, she would have to leave it behind.
Adira coated another dish in suds, rinsed it off, and placed it in the drying rack. Heck, she would even miss this—the quiet, reflective moments she had while doing chores. The only thing that would make it better was a window to see out of. But Miss Balek always said, “If we can see out, they can see in.”
She couldn’t have that—not when she wanted everyone to spellcast as often and freely as possible…which meant not just in the training room.
She would miss this place and everyone here. The only saving grace was that she would still have Alec. Maybe not the way she had him now, but he would be there. He would support her. Guide her. Maybe even…kiss her when no one was looking?
That was a foolish thought. Alec was clear things would end with them when her thirteen days were up, and however she might feel about that, she admired that he was a man of his word.
Miss Balek sidled up next to Adira. “Daydreaming about Alec?”
Adira’s cheeks warmed at first, then, remembering Miss Balek wasn’t just guessing and had actually read her mind, her face burned all the way to her ears.
The old woman waved Adira off. “Oh, come now, I was young once, too.”
After setting aside another dish, Adira turned to Miss Balek, drying her hands. “You never told me if you are a witch. You don’t use magic.”
Miss Balek raised her finger. “That’s right. I don’t,” she said. She wagged her finger, grinning, and then walked away.
>
At dinner, Miss Balek insisted Adira sit at the head of the table. Erik didn’t show. Her heart sank. As uncomfortable as the situation with him was, he was as much a friend to her as anyone here. He’d cheered her on just as much, if not more, than anyone else in the room. But chasing him down to request his presence at dinner would only send mixed signals.
Adira sighed and swept a loose tendril of hair from her eyes as Kveta placed the serving dishes on the table. She muttered to Adira, “Miss Balek actually cooked tonight.”
Pressing her lips together, she peered up at Kveta, the girl who never cared what she fed anyone, and saw a glint the girl’s eyes. “I’m sure you could have done just as well.”
“Could have,” the girl said with a wink before spinning away and taking her seat toward the other end of the table.
Miss Balek tapped a spoon against her glass. “Tonight is a special night,” she said. “Today, one of my students graduate.”
A wave a murmurs rolled down the line of witches sitting at the table. Adira caught her name among those whispered words more than once.
“Yes, yes,” she said, holding her hands up and motioning for everyone to quiet down. “I’m sure you can all guess who.”
Adira’s cheeks burned at all this fuss over her.
“Adira Chovanek has done great work while she’s been with us, and she will go on to do even greater things when she leaves.”
Anastazie stood so abruptly that the whole row sitting on the same bench shifted in their seats. “She’s leaving?” asked the girl, glaring at Adira. “She can’t leave!”
Miss Balek placed her hand on Anastazie’s forearm and guided her back to sitting. “She must,” said the old woman. “And we should be grateful for all she has done and will do.”