Illusion: Book Four of the Grimoire Saga

by S. M. Boyce

  “The drenowith killed my aunt. They murdered her because she tried to capture one of them. They—”

  Garrett interrupted. “As much as I would have loved to break your aunt’s neck for what she did to my Adele, I didn’t kill her.”

  Evelyn grimaced. “Liar.”

  “Believe what you want, child. I didn’t have the opportunity. Someone beat me to her.”

  “Who?”

  Garrett shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

  Aurora crossed her arms. “So that’s all? You betrayed us because you have a grudge against a drenowith?”

  Evelyn set her chained hands on the table, pleading. “Don’t you see? Yakona have warred in Ourea for eons. This is their chance to end us, to destroy us, to make the world as it was before we came to Ourea. They led my aunt to the Stele all those years ago in an attempt to kill her! Every year, they practice magic they can’t begin to fathom, and it backfires. They cause almost every ‘natural’ disaster on Earth out of greed and selfishness! They kill millions every year between our world and on Earth, and yet they think we’re the problem. You’re not safe with him. You can’t trust him!”

  Braeden let out a slow breath. Perhaps Evelyn was too far gone to save.

  “In a way, you’re right,” Garrett said.

  Several people gasped. The muse held up his hand, and the room hushed.

  “You’re right in that my people often push the limits of magic. We know the most about our gifts because we’ve had the longest time to study them, to make mistakes and learn. In that, we are responsible for death, and for that, we do what we can to make up for our mistakes, both in this realm and in the human parts. But you’re wrong to think we want yakona dead. You are a part of Ourea, and we therefore protect you along with the land we love. We mean your kind no ill will, even after such a deadly misunderstanding on your part.”

  Evelyn frowned, eyes locked on the muse as she listened. Her hands shook.

  Aurora sighed. “Your prejudice ruined you, Evelyn. Garrett has only ever helped us.”

  “And I, for one, am grateful to have him on our side,” Frine added.

  Braeden squared his shoulders. They needed to focus. “Blood Evelyn is obviously guilty of a long list of offenses, including murdering vagabonds,”—Kara tensed under his hands, but he continued—“murdering Hillsidian citizens, conspiring with Carden, and treason. What punishment is appropriate?”

  The alliance now had the Stele for an ally, but they’d made an enemy of Ayavel in the process. It seemed like they were back where they started—one kingdom short.

  “We certainly can’t let her go free,” Aurora said.

  “Perhaps we should banish her,” Frine suggested.

  “That didn’t work well for the Stelians, did it?” General Gurien asked.

  Frine huffed. “True, it may give her fuel to villainize the rest of us, but I don’t mean to banish her entire race. What if we banish only her? The rest of the kingdom can carry on as before.”

  “That’s too similar to your first idea, I’m afraid,” Richard said.

  “The Ayavelian people will grow resentful of not having their Blood,” General Gurien agreed.

  “So far, I’m the only one with ideas,” Frine snapped.

  “I have one,” Kara said.

  The room hushed. All eyes turned once more toward the silent Vagabond.

  Kara continued. “Peaceful occupation of Ayavel and all its villages for three generations of Blood, at which point all troops will be removed within a year. All lichgates are to be left open in every major kingdom. The smaller cities have less protection against bandits and rogue isen, so they may remain closed if they desire. And”—she glanced around the room—“every Sartori must be locked in a vault, forever.”

  “What now?” Frine asked.

  Braeden frowned. He had to agree with Frine on this one. He hadn’t even held his Sartori yet.

  Kara stood upright, skin glowing a faint green. “My mentor built a vault deep in a mountain range that can house these Sartoris. Once sealed, it can’t be broken. Sartoris are the only blade that can easily kill another Blood. In a symbol of goodwill and to show that you are serious about lasting peace between yourselves, each Sartori should be stowed in the vault.”

  “This was Stone’s ‘errand,’ wasn’t it?” Braeden asked.

  Kara met his eye and nodded. He groaned. He doubted Stone would make an unbreakable seal; rather, no one could break it but Stone. That would give the isen a power Braeden wasn’t sure he should have.

  Frine leaned his elbows on the table. “Even without her Sartori, Blood Evelyn still has a deep hatred for drenowith and likely still believes we’re—how did she put it?—lost. How do you plan to address that?”

  “The queen will spend a year with the drenowith,” Garrett said.

  Evelyn’s mouth opened. Wrinkles broke across her forehead, and she stared at Garrett in apparent horror.

  “Never,” she said, her voice a whisper.

  A memory flashed through Braeden’s mind—Adele’s elbow in his back as they sparred. He’d spent time with the drenowith learning to control his Stelian nature, and the time hadn’t involved an ounce of pleasantness. Without his healing ability, he wouldn’t have walked for weeks after some of the attacks.

  “She’s not to be harmed,” he said.

  Garrett caught his eye and grinned. “You were sparring. Evelyn will experience the spiritual aspect of our nature.”

  “What—?” Frine glanced from Braeden to Garrett, apparently not sure which question to ask first.

  Aurora beat him to it. “Spiritual nature?”

  “She will meet every drenowith alive. We will share our world with her in the hope she will see for herself how and why we live as we do.”

  “I refuse,” Evelyn spat.

  “Should we allow her the option?” Braeden asked.

  “She does need to sign a peace treaty of some sort for whatever we decide to take effect,” Frine answered.

  “I don’t think the time spent with the drenowith should be optional,” Braeden said.

  “I agree,” Aurora said.

  “You can’t make me! I won’t relinquish my Sartori if I have to go,” Evelyn shrieked.

  “I can touch your Sartori without being harmed, so that’s irrelevant,” Kara said.

  “Right, the Sartori business,” Frine said. He rubbed his eyes.

  The first rays of morning broke across the horizon, shifting as clouds ambled by. An amber glow washed over the ocean of trees below the window. Braeden closed his eyes for a moment, leaning on the wall for support. He still held Kara’s arms. She reached a hand to his and squeezed. He glanced up. She caught his eye and smiled.

  “You really think putting away the Sartoris will help?” he asked.

  She paused, and the creases in her forehead softened. The green glow faded from her skin. She nodded.

  “Very well, then. You have the Stele’s Sartori.”

  “And Kirelm’s.” Aurora sat upright in her chair, chin high.

  “Thank you,” Kara said.

  “But Sartoris are a Blood’s best means of protection!” Frine argued.

  “From other Sartoris, yes,” Kara pointed out.

  He groaned and leaned his head in his palm, the fingers of his free hand tapping the table as he stared at its wood. It couldn’t be an easy choice. Braeden didn’t have any attachment to his Sartori, but Frine had wielded his for decades. Not to mention he likely trusted Kara far more than did the Lossian Blood.

  “I need time to think this over. You ask too much for me to agree right now,” Frine said.

  Kara shook her head. “No delays. I’m asking precisely enough of you to protect Ourea and not an ounce more. The isolated nature of the yakona kingdoms is what prompted all of this distrust in the first place. The Sartoris are a self-fulfilling prophecy—having one prompts fear in the other Bloods, who feel they need one as well to be safe. Opening up the lichgates will reunite Ourea, much
in the way it was in the time of Ethos. There will never be a comfortable time to give up your blade. It will never feel right or safe. The Bloods must live with that discomfort to protect their people and set the example. That’s what you do—lead.”

  No one spoke as Frine and Gavin debated their choices. Frine grumbled and sat back in his chair.

  “It’s all or nothing,” Kara added.

  Frine crossed his arms. “I assume in exchange for our Sartoris and our kingdoms’ open borders, the Vagabond’s village will be opened as well, and its location shared?”

  Kara glanced to the floor and paused, but nodded.

  Frine sighed. “Very well. But I’ll need proof of this seal’s strength. I can’t have anyone opening it after we’ve put our most valuable possessions in this vault.”

  “Of course,” Kara said.

  “Gavin?” Richard asked.

  Gavin sighed and didn’t look up from the floor. “Take it.”

  Braeden wanted to go to bed, but they had to agree on a final decision. “So we will take our Sartoris to Kara’s vault in two days or so, once we’ve had some rest and—in my case, at least—have found our blades. We will send troops to Ayavel and its villages for peaceful occupation, simply to keep the peace and prevent a rebellion. And Evelyn will spend a year with the drenowith.”

  “Agreed,” Frine said.

  “Agreed,” Aurora echoed.

  Gavin gestured in agreement, again without looking up from the floor.

  “Agreed,” Kara and Garrett said in unison.

  “Stop!” Evelyn snapped.

  “Why do you act like you have authority in this situation?” Aurora asked.

  A tear streaked down Evelyn’s face. “None of you listened to me! Time and time and time again, you outvoted me despite the fact that I hosted you in my home, made my kingdom and its people vulnerable to your armies and influence. No one thanked me. No one considered my word important or added weight to my votes to accommodate the fact that I fed and sheltered you through most of this war. No one! You made decisions for me then, and you’re doing it again now. If nothing will change with you, nothing will change with me!”

  Several mouths—including Braeden’s—fell open in surprise.

  Disgust tore through Braeden’s chest. He grimaced and looked away, unable to stand the sight of this creature for a second more. When adults had grievances with their allies, they discussed the issues. They didn’t betray those who trusted them. Evelyn may have had fair concerns, but soldiers and civilians alike paid with their lives for her foolish reaction to those fears. Instead of calling a meeting to discuss her frustrations, she threw a tantrum like the child she was. She didn’t get her way, so she yelled and screamed until someone paid attention. And that person happened to be their greatest enemy, who played her for a fool.

  He bit his cheek, trying to quell the rising urge to voice his opinion on the matter. Regardless of what the muses told or showed her in her year away, Braeden worried for what Ayavel would be like after she returned. He doubted Evelyn could heal her selfishness in such a short time. He also feared for her children’s mental health. Hopefully, they had good nannies and much time away from their mother.

  Frine opened his mouth, but Garrett set a hand on the king’s shoulder. The muse crossed the room toward Evelyn in two quick strides. She flinched, sinking back into her chair even while she kept her back straight and chin up. But Garrett knelt and set one hand on the armrest.

  “You’re right,” he said.

  Braeden almost cursed under his breath in disgust. A few more mouths fell open, but no one spoke. Everyone seemed to hang on Garrett’s words, patient enough to hear him out.

  Evelyn’s breathing slowed. Her chest still rose and fell with each breath, but she studied the immortal creature at her feet.

  Garrett continued. “You’ve endured loss, unimaginable pain, and fear. You were vulnerable when none of the other kingdoms would dare be so kind. You had a bloodline—an entire kingdom—thrust upon you, likely against your wishes. I imagine you’re doing the best with what you have. And I would like to help.”

  Her lips trembled, and another tear broke across her face. “I don’t—I mean, I’m not—”

  “You’re a Blood. A queen. You’re royalty. But you never wanted any of it, did you?”

  “I—I—” She looked at Gavin, but he continued to stare at the floorboards.

  Braeden eyed the muse and almost smiled—Garrett was treating Evelyn like the child she was, and the girl hung on his every word. Evelyn was out of her mind and blew things out of proportion, so the only way to combat her was with the same inauthentic calm used to relax a screaming toddler. At least, Braeden hoped that was the drenowith’s plan.

  Tears pooled in her eyes, ready to spill over. “I never wanted this.”

  Garrett hovered a hand over her shackles. They broke open.

  Evelyn gasped with relief and held her wrists to her chest, massaging the already healing wounds with her fingers. She stared at him, mouth agape. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because you’re smart. You know deep down that, however much you’ve been taught to hate me, I’m not lying to you.”

  She sniffled and rubbed her hands. “What’s going to happen in that time with you?”

  “You’ll see new things. Meet new people. And perhaps we can heal you of the poison lingering in your blood after the transfusion with your aunt.”

  She frowned, eyes narrowing.

  Braeden raised his eyebrows in surprise, the deeper meaning of Garrett’s comment hitting home. When Aislynn gave her niece the bloodline, she’d transferred a small piece of her soul to the girl. The prejudice and fear that came with that imprint was likely what burned away the last ounce of reason within Evelyn, and surely what drove her to this betrayal. If Garrett could remove that piece of Aislynn’s soul, he could likely bring some stability to Evelyn’s unbalanced mind.

  His thoughts drifted to Evelyn’s aunt while she processed Garrett’s offer. All those years ago, the forced torture Braeden had levied on Aislynn had broken her. It must have, and that fracture in her mind had evolved more than anyone could have guessed. In the end, he’d caused this. He shook his head and leaned his forehead against Kara. In a way, Aislynn was more dangerous than Evelyn ever would be—at least she hid her true nature. She manipulated others, while Evelyn expected obedience. Two sides of an unstable coin.

  For most of his life, Braeden figured politics were a compromise of reasonable requests, but they weren’t. Not always. Sometimes, things got out of control—and when they did, a war usually began.

  Garrett continued when Evelyn didn’t reply. “You will not be hurt or forced to do anything against your will.”—he laughed—“Except to come with me in the first place. That part is mandatory.”

  Evelyn frowned. “Fine. One year. And then I go home.”

  “Then you go home. I promise. And I expect you’ll hold me to that promise.”

  She nodded.

  Braeden sighed with relief. Kara’s shoulders trembled beneath his hands—she likely hadn’t forgiven the queen for murdering her vagabonds. Braeden infused another round of soothing energy into her shoulders, and they relaxed a little.

  “Shall we adjourn?” Braeden asked.

  Gavin stood in answer and walked out the door without a backward glance.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Braeden mumbled.

  The Bloods and generals stood, muttering and picking at the remaining food on the platter as they trickled into the hall.

  Garrett crossed to Braeden and leaned in. “I will keep an eye on Evelyn in lieu of the spikes. I think making her feel like a prisoner will only worsen the situation.”

  “Thank you,” Braeden said.

  “Just make sure she brings her Sartori,” Kara said.

  Braeden cleared his throat at her direct order.

  Garrett simply nodded. “I hope you get a new wrist guard soon, Kara. You’re unpleasant when irritable.�
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  She didn’t reply.

  Braeden squeezed her shoulders. “Time for bed.”

  Thirty minutes later, Braeden lay in his old bed, arms around the girl he’d follow to the ends of the world. She’d taken a sleeping aid Stone gave her—some concoction the old man mixed himself. She’d wanted to be calm in her sleep so that she didn’t unconsciously lash out. It made sense, though he hoped she wouldn’t need to use it much longer. Braeden didn’t trust potions.

  He slid a lock of hair behind her ear and pulled her close. Flick yawned from a pillow on the nightstand.

  “Am I irritable?” Kara asked, words slurring.

  Braeden laughed and kissed her cheek. “You’re fine.”

  She huffed. “So yes.”

  He kissed her cheek again, hoping it would suffice for an answer.

  “I’ll apologize when I wake up,” she said each word slurring a little more than the last.

  “Good idea.”

  “Stone should… vault,” she added, not making a lick of sense.

  “Hush and sleep,” Braeden whispered.

  “’M-kay,” she muttered.

  She wrapped a hand around his waist and sighed, leaning her weight into his torso. The sun peeked through cracks in the curtain, illuminating the room with streams of dust-filled light. Braeden smiled and closed his eyes, ready at last for a well-deserved rest.

  Chapter 29

  Final Arrangements

  A week after Evelyn’s trial, Kara stood with the Bloods and Stone on a ledge deep in a mountain range she’d never visited. Mist hovered about them, blurring the view of the dozens of mountains in every direction. A brilliant sun hovered on the horizon, washing the clouds in shades of yellow and orange. Only a few peaks broke through the fog, their tips coated in layers of snow. Ice frosted the ledge beneath her feet, and she took careful steps across the rock. She shivered and wrapped her coat tighter around her waist.

  The ledge ended in a cave, its entrance fastened with makeshift doors the color of the rock around it. They sat open. Inside, candlelight flickered against the crags of the cave. Too many shadows filled the dark space to see much from outside, but soon the Sartoris would be sealed away in a stronghold no one could breach.