Rion removed the comforter from his legs and walked sluggishly to one of the armchairs by the fire. “Please sit,” he said, reminding her strongly of the time she had first discovered who he really was. And, as she had then, she sat, feeling as though it wasn’t the best idea.
He looked the exact same as he had before, the same blond hair, the same robust features and, of course, those telltale eyes, which were smiling at her in apparent amusement.
“I’m glad you find this so funny,” she grumbled.
“I apologize. I’m also just happy to see you.”
“I’m happy to see you too, though I can’t say I expected it. What happened?”
“Victor brought me back. He saved me,” Rion said, fatherly pride evident in his voice.
Autumn’s mouth tugged down into a puzzled frown. “How could he have done that, though? Surely even Ellocks can’t bring back the dead?”
“Only the freshly dead.” Rion chuckled. “The ones whose souls still reside in their bodies, clinging to the hope that someone will bring them back.”
“So…why are you in this room? Are you not fully alive yet?”
“I’m just rather weak still. I took me months to even raise myself to a sitting position. Every single cell in my body had to repair itself, with Victor’s help of course.”
Autumn shook her head in bewilderment. “I just don’t understand why he would do this. What does he want with you? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Does it not? I think it makes perfect sense,” Rion said with a slight smile. “He did it because I’m his father. And because he loves me.”
Brow creasing, Autumn frowned sadly at Rion. He had clearly been brainwashed by his son. “But Victor is evil, Rion. He doesn’t love anything or anyone.” Her voice wavered, though, as she had recently been growing more and more uncertain about this statement she had once believed to be factual.
A wistful smile formed on Rion’s face, as if he knew something Autumn didn’t. “Are you so sure about that?”
No. She wasn’t so sure. And she didn’t like that she wasn’t so sure. Not at all. Everything she had learned—from what Eris showed her, to words Victor had written in his journal, to Rion’s very presence—were exponentially confusing to her.
Rion took a deep breath then, placing a shaking hand against his head. “I think I should be getting back to bed,” he said, pushing himself to a standing position and walking slowly back to his shadowy corner. “I would like to see you again, Autumn. Will you come back?”
Autumn dipped her head in a nod. “I’ll come back.”
“And just remember to keep your mind open. We both know how capable you are of that.”
She rose from her armchair. “You may trust Victor, Rion. And he may have saved your life for whatever reason, but that doesn’t change the fact that he has taken the lives of so many, including some of my closest friends. And I can’t forgive him for that.”
Seeing Rion had definitely shaken Autumn’s foundation of repugnance towards Victor, but it was nevertheless still intact. One person brought back from the dead couldn’t change that. Maybe if it had been someone she loved—not that she didn’t care about Rion—but that might have changed things.
How did Rion know Victor wasn’t keeping him around for some evil, unknown cause? He did have Victor’s blood, after all. He very well could have been brought back to life because Victor had a greater plan for him. In fact, Autumn was sure that was it. Victor was manipulative, and Rion wanted his son to love him. So, he had probably been easy to convince.
Then there was the fact that she was still there because of Victor. He wanted her there for reasons unknown to her—reasons he still hadn’t divulged. Why not do the same to Rion? They were probably all in on some horrible trick Vyra had thought up before she died, and Victor had sworn to carry out. Honestly, if she were smart, she would try to find a way to kill Victor. They were in close quarters, after all. She could sneak a dinner knife and hide it under her bed. She could sneak into his room—wherever that was—at night and cut his throat.
Then she laughed at the ridiculous idea. Victor was an Ellock. Avery had shot him in the chest with an arrow, and he’d healed himself. Any attempts at killing him would be fruitless and likely deadly on her end. He was simply too powerful. Besides the fact that, for whatever pathetic reason, she didn’t think she could actually go through with it if given the chance.
Unable to go to sleep and not wanting to spend any more time in her room, Autumn pulled Victor’s journal out once again, and traveled the short distance to the library, curling up in one of the loveseats near the warming comfort of the flickering fire. The spine cracked satisfactorily as she opened to the marked page. Not even bothering to hide the stolen journal, she drank in Victor’s words, reading until the early hours of the morning.
His entries were all about her, some interspersed with lamentations about Vyra’s plan and about being torn when he became a Warrior. It had been his goal all along, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to go through with the Warrior Trial now. Then he wrote a very short, clearly angry entry about Autumn and Avery becoming Warrior partners and his doubt about Autumn’s feelings for him grew at this point. He was beginning to suspect that she was only staying with him out of pity—and he had been right.
When Autumn had thought Victor was traveling for Christmas, he had actually been staying with Vyra, telling her everything he knew.
Entry Fifty
I’ve returned from my “holiday” at Bluff Bastion with Vyra. I told her everything I’ve learned about the Warriors and the Oaken. Well, not everything. So much of what I’ve learned about Autumn, I kept to myself. Vyra knew I was hiding something from her, though. She pushed me and pushed me, and I finally broke, telling her that I thought she might be wrong about the elves…wrong about Autumn.
She reacted as I’d expected. Throwing things and screaming and carrying on like she does. She told me I was a traitor and pathetic and that I’d never be good, no matter how much I wanted to be. That I’d always be an Atrum. Evil. Dangerous.
Then she came to my room later that night and took my hand in hers and patted it in a tender way. Vyra’s never been tender or motherly in all her life. She told me she just wanted to take care of me and that she hated how the Warriors had used me. Then she brought up Autumn. She said she was using me too and that she clearly didn’t care for me, or else she wouldn’t have been partnered with Avery.
Though I tried my hardest not to let her words get to me, Vyra solidified all of my doubts about Autumn and the way she feels for me. So now I’m more torn than ever. And I don’t know what I’m going to do about the Warrior Trial. I don’t know whose side I am on. Maybe I should just flee to the Outside and start over. Change my name. Adopt a new persona.
No…that wouldn’t work. I’m an Atrum and an Ellock. I’m evil. And no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be anything else. Vyra has assured me of that. But then Autumn’s face pops into my mind, and I think maybe I can. If someone as good and pure as her could love me…maybe I could learn to love myself.
Flashing back to that time, which felt like decades ago, Autumn remembered very clearly Victor’s sour mood when he had returned to Arbor Falls at Christmas, ignoring all of the other Warriors who had grown to like and even respect him. This had been why. Vyra had convinced him that they hadn’t cared about him, that they were just using him. Including her. This hadn’t been true at all. She’d only been trying to help him. But she hadn’t loved him. That was true.
Then came the entry after Victor had seen Autumn and Avery kissing on her balcony. After Autumn returned his rose. After he’d nearly strangled her.
Entry Fifty-Two
Vyra was right. Autumn returned the rose I gave her. How could I have been so stupid? So naïve? It was clear she and Avery had feelings for one another. I knew the way she looked at him was different from the way she looked at me. She looked at him in ways I’d always longed to see, but never did. She lo
oked at him in admiration, in awe, in love. She looked at me with pity, and after tonight…fear.
That’s the last thing I wanted to see from her. The last thing. Of all the elves I’ve come across, Autumn had always been different, the exception to every rule I knew. But, can I blame her? She nearly met the same fate as Avabelle. Because I can’t get ahold of these inner demons threatening to take over any time I get angry. I was kidding myself when I thought she could actually love me as I love her.
Autumn turned to the next page only to realize that she had reached the end of the journal. Surely Victor hadn’t stopped writing. She had to find the next one. She wanted—needed—to know what happened after that. What had he been thinking when he knowingly led the other Quinns into a trap on Alder Island? What made him decide to save his father’s life? What had been going through his mind when he watched as his band of Shadows killed Forrest, put Charlotte into a coma, and crushed Crystal with a tree?
Leaving the first journal on the seat beside her, Autumn moved to the writing desk in the center of the room, searching through the drawers, moving papers and leaf quills aside, some of the contents tumbling onto the floor in her haste.
Giving up, she collapsed into the chair situated at the writing desk and finally spoke the words that had been haunting her thoughts since she’d closed Victor’s journal, “He actually loved me?”
“Of course I did,” a voice said from the doorway, causing Autumn’s heart to fly into her throat. She whirled around to see Victor watching her with uncertain eyes. “I still do.”
26
Out With the Old
If LUKE had been told, even a few months ago, that Kyndel Butler—whose name was now Kyndel Caroline—would be his new “right-hand woman,” he would’ve laughed them out of the castle, out of the kingdom, even. But, alas, as Autumn would have said, here Kyndel sat beside him in Olympus’s old study, pouring over the brand new law books that she had co-written, checking for any errors.
“Everything looks good to me so far,” Kyndel said, turning a page. “After the Kingdom Council approves of them, would you like me to go ahead and send out the list of new and changed laws with the castle delivery workers to all the elf town leaders?”
“Yeah, I think that would be best,” Luke agreed. “I want the laws out before the first Annual Warrior Test to keep them from throwing a cry-baby fit.”
Kyndel snorted. “You’re such a grown up king, using phrases like ‘cry-baby fit.'”
Luke shrugged. “I think most everyone would agree that I’m not your average king.”
“That’s for sure,” Kyndel said as she ran a steady finger beneath each word to make sure she didn’t miss any mistakes. “Thanks for approving the law allowing same-sex elves to exchange binding roses by the way…”
“Duh. That wasn’t even a question, Kyn. If it’s not hurting anyone, and they’re in love, what’s the issue? Besides, the binding roses only work if the couple is in love, so it’s up to the dang magical plants more than me. If the other elves have a problem with it, then I suggest they don’t marry someone of their same sex. Now, how hard is that?”
“Well, obviously I agree, but the other elves don’t see it that way. They see it as unnatural.”
“Then they should consider taking a long stroll through nature, because same-sex ‘mating’ happens in all species. In fact, just a few days ago I walked past the pet shop downtown and saw two male tigerflies going at it in the shop window. I mean they were just like—”
“Okay, I got it. Thanks for the image.”
“Hey, just because I’m King doesn’t mean I have to be mature or grown up in any way,” Luke said with a sly wink.
Kyndel smirked. “True. But you actually have grown up a lot in the past few months, you know.”
Luke frowned. “I know. It sucks. Royally.”
Kyndel rolled her eyes, and Luke guffawed at his own joke. At least, after everything he had gone through, he still hadn’t lost his sense of humor, however lame it may have been and still was.
“Oh, hey, did you get a message from Atticus about meeting him in the Powers’ Tree later?” Kyndel asked.
“Yep. He probably just wants to check in with us to make sure the official laws have been written before he goes through with anything regarding the Warrior Test.”
“That’s what I thought too at first, but Ember and Jastin got the same message.”
Luke frowned in confusion. “Really? Weird. I have no idea what it’s about then.”
After Kyndel and Luke had finished proofreading the rewritten laws, they met up with Crystal and Ember for the mysterious meeting with Atticus in the Powers’ Tree. They went up to Avery’s branch, but he told them to go on ahead of them. His mother could be heard wailing in the background. Luke didn’t think he could feel more sorry for Avery…until he did.
When they arrived in the Powers’ Tree, most everyone had already made it there. The only other Warriors who had been invited were Edric, Jastin, Willow, Eden, Jack, and Olivia. They were all seated in the wooden chairs that had been arranged in a semi-circle in the center of the room, talking quietly. And, to Luke’s surprise, five other seats were occupied by Casters: Wyx, Zane, Mara, Leon, and one other he didn’t know very well.
Atticus leaned against his desk that, to this day, Luke had never actually seen him sit behind. “Avery coming?” he asked Luke when their group arrived, taking up all but one of the seats.
Luke nodded. “Yeah, but he’s dealing with, uh, things at home right now.”
“Ah. I see,” Atticus said with a sympathetic frown. “Well, we can just fill him in later then.”
“Fill him in on what exactly?” Ember asked with the edge of impatience that was almost always present in her voice.
“Well,” Atticus began, “As all of you know, Luke and Kyndel have been working tirelessly on updating and revising the elf kingdom laws. Some of these laws pertain to the Warriors directly, particularly the way Warriors will be chosen from here on out. So, taking these new rules into consideration, the first Annual Warrior Test will be held next Friday, and you will all be involved in the process. That is, you will be going up against the young Warrior hopefuls. We will be putting them through much more than any Warrior Test ever has before. Rather than fighting one Warrior, they will be going against a handful of you, one after the other. They will also be shooting moving targets with arrows as well as using their Powers on you rather than just giving a demonstration.”
“You don’t think that’s a bit too difficult to start out with?” Willow asked uncertainly.
“We’re only choosing two Initiates,” Atticus said. “So, no. The two we choose should be able to make it through this test with ease. Think of the Shadow Battle a few months ago. You think our old Warrior Test would have prepared you for that?”
“Well, no, but we had plenty of fighting practice before that point,” Eden jumped in because Willow had been struck silent, seeing as how the Shadow Battle was what had killed Forrest.
“Exactly,” Atticus said. “These two Initiates will basically be thrown into battle without any prior fighting experience. We have to be sure they can handle themselves.”
“He’s right,” Jastin said. Everyone looked at him then. His eyes were hollow, and his cheekbones stuck out more than before. He looked worse now than he had before Charlotte woke up. “The Shadows have been quiet. Too quiet. Which means they will probably attack with more numbers than ever before, and soon. We have to be prepared, and so do these Initiates.”
“And where do we fit in?” Leon asked bluntly, running a hand through his black, glitter-covered hair. “We’re warlocks. What good will we be choosing new elf Warriors?”
“They will be fighting you as well,” Atticus responded. “Because, after all, Victor is an Ellock. So, as far as I am concerned, the elves and the warlocks should approach all battles as a united front. That’s the only way we will ever have a chance in this war.”
Silence fell over t
he Warriors and Casters until Crystal stood up, now an expert at maneuvering her new leg, and with hands perched on her hips said, “Well. Let’s get started then.”
27
Inner Demons
Autumn and Victor stared at one another for what felt like the longest minute of Autumn’s life. Victor’s chest rose and fell rapidly as if he’d just run a mile. He was clearly nervous or upset, though Autumn couldn’t understand exactly why. Finally, she broke the silence. “You’re lying.”
Victor looked almost hurt at this, which only added to Autumn’s confusion. “I’m not lying. What do I have to gain by telling you this? In fact, I have nothing to gain and everything to lose with this admittance.”
Autumn narrowed her eyes at him. “How could you possibly love me after everything you’ve done to hurt me, Victor? It makes no sense whatsoever.”
“If you give me a minute of your time, I will explain,” he said, with upheld hands.
“Why should I give you any more of my time? I’ve given you my whole life in this place!”
Moving away from the doorway and into the room, Victor went to sit in the armchair by the fire and gestured for Autumn to join him in the other. “Please sit,” he asked with what sounded like a hint of desperation in his voice. Autumn couldn’t ignore the irony of the fact that his father—whose life he’d supposedly saved—had said these very words to her only hours ago.
She didn’t want to give Victor the satisfaction of hearing him out, only so he could lie to her some more, but she also knew that she would go insane wondering what he would have told her if she stormed out of the library now. So, fighting all of her common sense instincts, she slowly sank into the armchair facing him, perched on the edge in case she wanted to flee, and waited for him to speak.
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