Fearless Magic

Page 49

Soon a Guard reappeared, opening the door for his prince. Kiran walked into the room in full wedding attire. His hair was slicked back stylishly and his crisply perfect tus was double breasted with a smart tie that raised off his chest, pinned with the royal crest. He even wore white gloves.
He was not surprised to see me or at least didn't act like it, his eyes flitted over me, as if I were an irritation, before he sat down next to his father and sighed. I annoyingly felt under-dressed in my regular mission attire, a black long-sleeved shirt and gray cargo pants.
“She has come to bargain her brother's life,” Lucan explained to his son. The delight on his face grew with every minute.
“And what have you decided?” Kiran asked, his turquoise eyes turning to deep blue with hardness.
“Isn't this the deal you made with her?” Lucan glowered at his son, almost as shocked by his reaction as I was.
“Yes, I suppose it is.” His crisp English accent was clipped and short and I wondered for a moment if I should have made a Plan C.
“All right, Eden,” Lucan looked at me, his eyes narrowing again to small slits of distrust. “You are here to offer yourself for your brother. How can I trust you?”
“I came to you. This was my decision. I will uphold my end of the bargain as long as you uphold yours,” I promised, hoping to get the whole thing over with soon. “I just have one small request.”
“A request?” Kiran mocked, loudly, and even his father turned in surprise. “And what would that be?”
“I want to be able to say goodbye to Avalon, and I want to walk him out; I want to make sure he reaches safety,” I requested quietly and with more humility.
“I will agree to that,” Lucan countered, “as long as you retain the magic. If you give Avalon back even the smallest hint of what you possess our deal is off and I will murder him on the spot. Is that understood?”
“Yes, I understand,” I nodded my head, realizing I hadn't exactly thought my plan through all the way. How would I give Avalon the magic back now?
“Eden, swear it,” Kiran stood up, pointing his finger angrily at me.
I paused for a moment, breathing deeply and searching for a loophole to the impossible scenario, “I swear it; I will not give anything back to Avalon.”
“Not good enough,” Lucan said calmly from his chair. “I want a blood oath; I want our deal signed in magic.”
“Absolutely not,” I argued, afraid of the very words.
“Then our deal is off,” Kiran spat, angrily.
“Fine,” I shook my head, frustrated and irritated with the next question I had no choice but to ask, “What exactly is a blood oath?”
“Is she serious?” Lucan asked his son and couldn't hold back his laughter any longer.
“That's not fair,” I stomped my foot, “I was raised-”
“Human,” Lucan and Kiran growled together, in obvious vexation.
“A blood oath,” Lucan continued, “is a contract written for us and signed with our blood. It is magically binding and if either end is broken, the law-breaker dies. It's very simple, but binding and I have found it to be the most effective way to assure trust between two sides.” He grimaced at me with the cruelest of expressions, but I had already agreed. There was no turning back now. “Send for the witch,” Lucan ordered and another Guard disappeared into the hallway.
When the door opened a few minutes later, a handsome but expressionless middle-eastern man, wearing a turban and long ivory robes walked through the door. He carried parchment paper and a long, feathered quill. He stared at me with dead eyes and unmoving lips; his presence disturbed me in a way I could not explain.
A Guard brought a small, wooden, writing table and a stool for him to sit on into the middle of the room. He unrolled his parchment, and tilted his feathered quill that needed no ink and waited patiently for instructions on what to write.
“Write this,” Lucan instructed but then looked to me, “What is your full name?”
“Eden Diana Matthews,” I replied solemnly, feeling as though I were handing over more than my freedom.
“Diana? After your grandmother, how sweet,” Lucan mocked, although that was information that I did not know. I wondered for a moment if they named me after my maternal or paternal grandmother. “And don't put Matthews, that's not her real last name. Eden Diana St. Andrews is bound to the Crowned Prince with full possession of her magical powers. If she releases her magic to anyone magical or not, in even the most miniscule of ways that will be considered a breach of contract. Likewise, the king, Lucan Henry Sevim Kendrick is bound to the contract,”
“And Kiran,” I interrupted, finding it necessary to include him.
“Fine,” Lucan conceded easily, “Likewise, the king, Lucan Henry Sevim Kendrick and his son, the crowned Prince, Kiran Cedric Dupont Kendrick are bound to the contract in that if they harm or prevent the girl's brother in any way from successfully reaching safety today, May first, that will be considered a breach of contract. Consequences are as follows: death to either side of the contracted if said stipulations are broken.”
Lucan finished abruptly, holding his hand out to the witch with an exasperated sigh. The scribe stood and handed the parchment to him carefully. He read it over finding the simplicity of the arrangement agreeable.
“Are you satisfied with our terms?” Lucan asked, as if I had a choice.
The careful wording was not lost on me, not on Lucan's part, although I was hardly naive to his conscientious dictation, and that Avalon's safety was only to be honored today. The exact phrasing of the contract also worked in my favor. If Avalon wanted his magic back I wouldn't be the one to give it to him. If there were any way for him to get it back, he would have to do what all of the others did and take it from me himself.
The witch took the parchment back to the writing table and produced a knife from underneath his robes. The eight-inch, crescent-shaped blade glinted in the light, shining dangerously in the dim lighting of the room. The ivory hilt of the knife carefully carved with the royal crest would not be considered beautiful. Its sinister blade sharpened in Immortal blood was used with greedy intent.
Lucan walked forward, a sign of good faith, and held his hand open over the paper. The scribe slid the knife across his palm and his blood dripped instantly from his hand across the words of our contract.
Kiran was next, walking forward and removing one of his gloves, tucking it firmly under his arm. He pulled back his sleeve, to prevent ruining his tuxedo, and held open his palm. The witch used the same swift movement against Kiran's hand and his crimson blood mixed with Lucan's on the contract.
I took a short breath and moved forward, feigning courage, but out of options. I held open my palm, using magic to steady it over the paper and fought against flinching from the size of the blade. The witch moved quickly against my skin, and I barely felt the incision of the sharp knife.
Hot blood flowed from my hand, mixing together with the other on the paper. When I looked down to make sure my blood found its target on the contract, I was mesmerized to see that when all three bloods joined they disappeared along with the ink into the paper itself and all that was left was blank parchment that held my life in its balance.
I wanted to comment on the mystery, but I felt that too much awe would be a sign of weakness. So instead, I healed my hand with magic and pretended to be unimpressed.
“It would appear we have a deal,” Lucan stood up with his son and put a strong hand on his shoulder, “I will leave it up to you then, will she be your bride or your sacrifice?”
I pleaded silently with Kiran, willing him to pick sacrifice. In that moment, I knew that if I died Avalon would not get his magic back, but selfishly, and momentarily, I hoped that the misery of my choice would end in the quick events of death, instead of the endless suffering that would accompany the role of queen.
He stared at me, his hard blue eyes searching mine, his expression ominous and unreadable.
“She will be my bride,” he decided quietly and then tore his eyes from mine. He clenched his jaw and his hands balled into fists, tugging at his black jacket impatiently.
“Fine,” Lucan agreed, almost disappointed. “Then we have work to do;” he turned to his Guards, “find her something suitable to wear.”
“No, not today,” Kiran turned to his father, almost begging him to agree. “This is Seraphina's day, please do not humiliate her by replacing her with another. Send the guests away quietly, and in a few months we can arrange a simple ceremony.”
“Absolutely not,” Lucan snapped with rage, “royal weddings are only held on this day alone, if you are not wed today, then you will have to wait an entire year and I cannot trust her to comply.”
“Father, it is only a year then,” Kiran appealed, reasonably. “She is here now, we have her magic, her brother possesses none of it and if we have to, we can keep her in the dungeons until that day. Think with reason, there is a blood oath. And what of Seraphina's father? He will be upset again and you cannot afford the complete loss of his allegiance. You have won; let us not be hasty and cause the kingdom reason for animosity.”
Lucan sat silently brooding for several minutes before conceding, “Fine.” He breathed deeply, struggling for restraint. “She is your prisoner, keep her wherever you want. But be reminded, young prince, that she is the key to your magic, I am not the one that needs her in order to survive.”
And with that, Lucan left the room in a swirl, of stolen, arrogant magic. It was not until he was gone that I realized how suffocating his aura was; aggressive energy that attacked almost every other magic in the room filled him.
Only Kiran, the Guard and I remained. I did not move or utter a sound. Kiran ran his hands through his hair as if he didn't know what to do now. He glanced at me for a brief moment and I didn't know what I expected, but contempt and irritation was not it.
I was about to demand to be taken to my brother when the door behind the thrones blasted open and folds of white silk came crashing through. Immediately I recognized Seraphina's beautiful face contorted with rage, blonde hair flowing elegantly behind her, underneath a delicate lace veil. I was suddenly thrown backwards into the stone wall, hitting my head and sliding to the ground in misery.
Chapter Forty
I felt the sticky, hot blood run down my neck and I struggled to my feet. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know if the Guards would attack me should I fight back, or if Kiran would intervene and remove the jilted bride from the room. I didn't have time to think it over before she lifted me off the ground again, dropping me violently onto the stone floor. This time I smashed my face against the cold stone, breaking my nose and scraping my forehead painfully.
I was instantly to my feet, holding my nose and trying to stop the gushing blood. “Damn it, Seraphina!” I yelled, spraying and spitting the crimson blood that dripped into my mouth like a faucet. I picked her up with my own magic, furious and ready for revenge. She screamed at me with words I couldn't even understand, accusations that I probably deserved and eyes that would kill me if they could.