Of Blood and Deceit

by Rachel A. Collett

  “You’re not the bearer of bad news.” I pointed beyond my room. “That schemer is. He’s bad altogether.”

  “My brother?”

  “You know very well I’m not talking about your brother. Weylan. From the moment he arrived, you should have—

  “Sent him to the dungeons to be murdered like Lucan’s men?”

  I couldn’t contain the shudder that climbed my flesh. The image of mangled bodies flashed through my mind. “No. But it’s foolish to think that this is not a trap. Weylan is working with Lucan.”

  “You wouldn’t think so if you were there for his capture. But if it pleases you, I’ll allow you to ask him yourself.”

  “You’ll allow me to interrogate him?”

  One brow raised, giving me a pointed look. “You may question him. You won’t want to be there for the interrogation.” It was a warning.

  And he was probably right. I gave in. “Very well. So, what do we do now?”

  He shrugged. “While we wait, I assess you.”

  My face heated and I stepped away to pace. “You assess me?”

  “For your magical skills. Which may prove to be difficult.”

  “It should be quick,” I groused.

  His eyes narrowed. “Maybe. I’m guessing you just don’t know all that’s beneath the surface, but this assessment is going to be hard for you in other ways.”

  I stopped pacing. “Why?”

  “Because your magic appears to have a defensive mechanism. Most magical defenses are triggered by your own feelings.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You don’t like me.”

  My heart thundered in my chest as guilt ripped through me. “I never said I don’t like you.”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “You don’t trust me,” I countered with a snap. Why was I acting like a child?

  But the prince surprised me when he said, “Actually, I do.” My immediate response caught in my throat. He continued. “You forget, I’ve watched you over the past three months. I’ve already made my decision on that subject.”

  What could I say to that? I clenched my fists. “I trust you,” I said, testing the words myself.

  Castiel appeared doubtful. “That was a little too easy.”

  “There’s nothing easy about it, but…” I resumed my pacing. My answer poured from my lips without needing any additional thought. “You saved me. You stopped Lucan from taking me. Protected me from the touch of a wraith. Even defended me from your own brother and king. And what have I given you in return?”

  Castiel sat in the chair opposite the one I still ignored, a stark contrast to the wraith who had so recently occupied that position. The prince leaned back to stare into the low flames, his arms resting wide, exposing his broad shoulders and chest. “I don’t require anything in return, except—”

  Almost automatically I moved to stand opposite of where he sat. My heart quickened. “Except?”

  “There’s a lot that goes into training. It can get… intimate.” His eyes flickered to mine.

  Why did I shake the way I did? “I understand.”

  He turned over his hands to gaze at his palms. “I may have to touch you. You can’t react as you have in the past, or your magic may shut down. And I’ll need to know the truth.”

  “About?”

  He leaned forward, his gaze penetrating me to the very core. “Anything I ask you. I won’t be able to assess your magic as I should if you’re not completely honest about things.”

  “About that…” I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. I didn’t know how to approach him about the wraith in my bedroom. Castiel might not suspect foul play, but Riaan would gain yet another reason to mistrust me.

  “What?”

  And what could I say except for the truth? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Reese was right to be worried. I had a visitor.”

  “A visitor?”

  Finally, I took the chair opposite him. Warmth grew in the small space that separated us, making me uncomfortable. “Cy, the wraith. I woke to find him watching me.”

  A noise gurgled from Castiel’s throat, but he waited for me to continue. Despite his forced calm, his face turned an alarming shade of red.

  “He—he asked what I knew about the Wraith Queen. And he said that she left something here—”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He cursed, shooting to his feet. “She’s coming.”

  “Wait. Cy didn’t say—”

  “He didn’t have to. What he said was enough. The Wraith Queen herself warned she would return. We’ve enjoyed almost eighteen years of peace from her demonic armies. We’d even begun to hope she would never return. But this—I must tell my brother.”

  I leaped from my seat and grabbed for his arm, but my grasp slipped down to his fingers instead. I clung to them, sliding to a halt. “If you do, he’ll suspect me of treachery.”

  I wasn’t strong enough to stop him, and yet he paused to look at our connected hands. His gaze swept the length of me.

  “I’ll do all I can to prevent that.” He pulled from my grasp. “Now get dressed.”

  “What? But it’s—”

  “Nearly sunrise. You’ve attracted this wraith’s notice, and that’s not a good thing.”

  “Well, I didn’t think it was a good thing.” I folded my arms tight across my chest.

  One brow raised high. “It’s worse than you think. Your training starts now.”

  An hour later, I paced the ground nervously and eyed the distance that separated me from the castle. The prince had taken me beyond the wall to a hill that overlooked its grandeur. The morning was warm. Green grass blanketed the ground up until the forest line. The river I had briefly seen on the night of my first escape snaked through the verdant fields, tranquil and unaware of the turmoil rushing inside my soul. This wasn’t the farthest I had been since coming to Meyrion, but the distance and the desire to bolt sent my mind reeling.

  Reese lounged against a tree with a book, his back to us. I had no idea the guard enjoyed reading, but now I liked him even more.

  Castiel stood with his arms crossed and watched as I paced. I ignored the way yet another new dress settled against my skin. I was used to layers of thick cotton, leather, and weapons. Not thin silks and linens designed to accommodate the warm climate. Sameen had commissioned not only one new dress, but several that now lined a cedar boudoir added to the furniture of my room. It was wasteful and far too… nice. She had chosen a light blue fabric for the day, with long sleeves and scooped neck. It fitted snugly down my waist, with a decorative white belt slung low on my hips.

  “Shall we begin?”

  I ignored his question, giving him one of my own. “He said I was cursed. The wraith did. What do you think he meant?”

  He exhaled a long breath. “He’s a wraith. It sounds as if he speaks of your uncle, but you already know that.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  I waved away the words. “What did the king say about the incident?” I asked, trying to avoid the training as long as possible.

  “He’s not happy, but he’s processing the information.”

  I huffed. “Figuring out if I’m to live or to die?”

  “No one’s going to die unless it’s that wraith.”

  “Then shouldn’t we be interrogating Lucan? Maybe he knows where we can find him.”

  Castiel lifted a brow as if confused.

  I connected my fingers in an attempt to better explain. “You know. If Cyris can read Lucan, maybe Lucan can read him…”

  “I guess it’s possible, but I checked this morning. Whatever the wraith did to him, Lucan is still out cold. We don’t know what happened to him when the wraith connected to him. Gedeon can’t sense anything wrong but doesn’t know if he’ll ever wake up.” He scanned my face, concern etched in his eyes. “We will figure it out, Ilianna, but you are under no circumstances to look for the wraith.”


  I mentally cursed and kicked at a rock on the ground.

  He continued. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s move on. When was your magical awakening?”

  “Is that what you call it?” I rolled my eyes, walking a slow circle around the nearest tree. “I was fourteen.”

  “What happened when it did?”

  I shook my head.

  He blinked. “In the dungeons, the wraith said your uncle tested you. Was this to get to your magic?”

  I swallowed. “Yes, but it didn’t work.”

  “Then your magic must have not trusted him and hid from him.”

  “You speak as if it’s a living thing.”

  “That’s because it is. What happened to cause it to finally respond?”

  Despite my growing anger, I smiled at the memory. “I was starving. My uncle had sent me to my quarters to be punished without food for a week. Again. But one week became two, then three. The guards didn’t care that my body shrank before their very eyes. That I begged. That I cried. I was fourteen.”

  And then I realized what was intended to happen. My uncle was going to let me die.

  I turned to Castiel with a look that dared him to show pity, but he only stared back with a face void of all emotion. After a few seconds I shrugged. “It wasn’t anything spectacular. I just… knew. Knew I could change one of the guards’ mind. Knew I could convince him to bring me food. Knew I could talk him into letting me go.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “And then I killed him so the king would never know. I waited to be punished for my crime, but my uncle was only impressed by my escape and sent me back to training that day.” Magic had saved my life, and my uncle wanted it more than he wanted me, so I did my best to tuck it away. But I didn’t know how to bring it back out. And I told Castiel as much.

  His voice was a steely calm. “I will help you.”

  He sounded angry, but of course he would be. I had just confessed to murder. My heart sank. “Look, I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Confusion darkened his eyes until something seemed to click within him. “Oh, Ilianna. I’m not upset with you. How could I be?”

  I swallowed against a new lump of unwanted emotion that now swelled within my throat. I peered upward to avoid his gaze. Fat white clouds meandered in a lazy sky. Birds chirped from their branches. Yellow eyes watched me from a perch too high in the trees.

  An unladylike yelp escaped my lips.

  “What is it?” Castiel was at my side in an instant, daggers drawn.

  “One of the falcry is up there,” I said, pointing to its hiding place. Her black plumage was stark against the green backdrop. “Ketrina.”

  He pulled my hand down and just as quickly I yanked it from his grasp. I instantly regretted the reaction. “They don’t like to be pointed at,” he said in a low voice, sheathing his weapons.

  I scanned the boughs for Gomez or Verity, but they were nowhere to be seen. “There seems to be a lot they don’t like,” I said beneath my breath, and he smiled.

  “Indeed, but there are many things that they do like. For instance, gossip.”

  He smiled and reached out a hand. An offering. Slowly, I took it, and he guided me away one cautious step at a time. “If Kitty has chosen to watch us, then that is what she’ll do.”

  “Kitty?”

  Castiel only smiled.

  I huffed. “I thought Melia liked to have her around as a sort of intimidation tactic.”

  He chuckled beneath his breath. “Sounds like something she would do, but no. The falcry have their own minds.”

  “And you don’t control them?”

  His hand warmed my cold fingers but did little to help my raised pulse. “No. They’re too intelligent to be controlled.”

  “But I read that you can, once they bind themselves to you.”

  Castiel’s head ticked to the side. “Ketrina’s not my falcry. None of them are.”

  “But I thought—”

  “The falcry are strange creatures,” the prince interrupted. “Gomez had a master, but he died in the demonic wars. Verity is Kitty’s mother, and neither one has chosen a magician.”

  “Why?” I asked. Not much was known about the process, but despite popular opinion, it was the bird that selected the magician.

  He shrugged. “They don’t deem it necessary. Falcry are creatures of both light and dark. They can be valiant soldiers and loyal companions, but they can also be lazy and prone to chaos. As of right now, nothing has piqued their interests. That is, until you came along.”

  He released my hand, taking a seat in the soft green grass.

  I remained standing, but my skin tingled from his touch. I changed the subject. “Is intelligence, or lack of intelligence, what controls people?”

  Castiel narrowed in on the right focus for my question. “Not necessarily. Sameen and Reese are far from unintelligent.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t really know, but everyone is different. What works for me may not work for you. I understand that you have a reason not to trust people, and I can understand why—”

  “Can you?” I asked, my voice raising high. “Can you really understand what I’ve been through? Do you know what it’s like to fear your own blood?’

  “No.”

  My mouth clamped shut. I had said too much. It was too much, all of it. I was a magician. I knew it and had known for several years now, but to say it aloud, to come close to using it of my own free will… it didn’t seem right.

  “You’re right, Princess. I don’t understand, but I hope with time you’ll come to know that I’m not your uncle.”

  I shook my head, needing to change the subject and fast. “Of course you’re not. Why is it so bad to be a rogue magician?”

  “Rogue magicians pull too much energy to them without realizing. You could kill someone that way.” He leaned back against his hands.” I have a feeling that your magic was late because it was protecting itself, but the power will grow with or without your permission. If you continue to suppress it as you do, the next time you need it, out of desperation or survival, you could harm yourself, or worse, those around you.”

  “And where exactly do we pull this energy?”

  “From everything. Everything has an energy, whether alive or not. We take from that source and shift it to our special gifts.”

  I splayed my arms, searching for some kind of magical glow I knew was not there. “And of course, we can’t see this… energy.”

  “Some can, but obviously not you. You would’ve tapped into it a long time ago if you could.”

  “Of course. So I have to pull energy from somewhere I can’t see. Sounds great.”

  One side of his mouth twisted into a grin. “Luckily, I have the very thing that can help.” From his pocket he produced a small vial filled with red liquid.

  I instinctively leaned away. “What is that?”

  “As I said, something that can help.”

  I clamped my mouth and glared.

  “I thought you said you trusted me.”

  Magical Training

  His tone mocked me.

  I sighed against the nervousness building within the pit of my stomach and held out my hand. “Fine.”

  “It’s unpleasant, but you’ll need to drink it all,” he said, placing the vial into my palm. He made sure his fingers didn’t touch mine. “And you may feel… strange. Disoriented.”

  My brows lifted.

  “Possibly a little nauseous.”

  “Is it alcohol?” I asked.

  “It’s most definitely not alcohol, and it will wear off within an hour, give or take. It’s a potion made for just this kind of training.”

  I uncorked the vial and downed the substance in a single gulp.

  “That should be enough,” he said, reclaiming the bottle.

  It was thick, the taste bittersweet with a hint of rosemary. Heat bloomed as it fizzled down the pathway to my stomach. I swallowed hard ag
ainst the growing nausea.

  He continued. “Training can be exhausting. As a new magician, you’ll be using muscles, if you will, that you’ve barely ever used. And the potion will make it worse.”

  I scowled. “Then why am I taking it?”

  “Trust me, it’s useful.”

  “Who made it?” I asked, fighting the desire to retch.

  “Melia’s mother.”

  “Does Melia’s mother have a name?” I shuddered when the potion oozed to the pit of my stomach like a mudslide. “You and the king have mentioned her several times, almost as a threat. Exactly who is she?”

  “It’s not really who, but what she is that matters. She’s a seer.”

  I gasped on instinct, the shock worsening my queasy reaction. Castiel nodded. I braced my hands on my knees. “I’m going to die for sure.”

  His laugh echoed softly inside my brain. He leaned forward, eye-level. “You’re not going to die. Seers are not evil. And it’s silly, I know, but we still have a hard time saying her name out loud for fear that she’ll hear and come for us in the night.”

  My face reddened at his closeness. I stood, the blood rushing from my head. “That’s the lore of wraiths and demons, not seers.” But I had nearly forgotten that folklore long before. I almost cursed my folly out loud. I had said Cyris’s name many times since meeting him. Hopefully it wasn’t true.

  “Oh, we don’t say their names aloud either,” Castiel said. “Although, I was hoping you saying his name would invite him close enough for me to kill him.”

  I pished. “Don’t tell me the prince of Anolyn believes such silly superstitions.”

  Because obviously I did, but I needed him to be stronger than I was. Even more terrifying than demons and wraiths, seers were nothing to trifle with. Although they were thought to have been wiped out years ago, rumors of them still spread. They worked within the magical realm, but their powers weren’t considered magic. They were supernatural. Some had wisdom gifted from the gods, others had spiritual healing powers to restore the downtrodden. Others even declared to be an actual deity, cast from heaven as punishment for an unknown deed, and only able to return until they served humanity with their life.