Heart (Cruelly Made Book 3)

by K. M. Hade

  Her gaze sweeps back to me. I should kneel, but I’m not going to. I’m not a murderer. I’m not a failure.

  I have been failed, and I am done being a scapegoat, punching bag, secret, jack-sock, or broodmare.

  Her gaze demands I kneel. I do not. So she says, “You have Fell thread, Mage.”

  “Yes.”

  “I see you are in your cavalry armor. I will not ask you to demonstrate your thread here. You will do so shortly.”

  I incline my head. My armor creeks. “As Her Imperial Grace Commands. I am Heart, and we have done the impossible and more. We claim the boon offered by the Military and ask you ensure it be paid.”

  The Empress’s fine brows arch slightly and her twisted lips unbend into a sharp-edged little smile. “The agreement was for a Shard, not a Heart. You claim the impossible. An Aether cannot be a Heart for Fells. It has been tried and failed many times. Fells cannot even accept an Aegis.”

  But I’m not a typical Aether. I’m flawed. “It’s not impossible for one such as myself, and I am proof. My power and my Fell thread creates a bridge that makes it possible.”

  Questioning the Empress is a quick way to die. Arguing with her? Even faster. She pulls her lips back as she speaks, like a she-bitch snarling. “I must agree you have Fell thread, though I am unconvinced it has given you the control you claim. Perhaps you are merely so powerful you can tolerate that little knot in your breast.”

  “It is more than decorative.”

  “So you are willing to prove it.”

  Atrament’s dark shadows shift, and worry reverberates through all of us.

  I toss my hair proudly. “Yes, but we have no interest in proving anything for nothing in return. You may as well throw us back into the Pit.”

  “Empress, you can’t permit this child to talk to you this way,” the High Commander states.

  “This child is an annoyance that has earned a bit of indulgence,” the Empress says coldly. The High Commander shrivels a bit. The Empress turns back to me. Her gaze is cold, like the Warden’s blank, unmoving, unaffected gaze. We are nothing to her except pieces on her chess board, and she’s figuring out which move will get her the best result.

  She also has a number of Mages staring at her. She can’t afford to seem weak in front of the court, but she’s not stupid enough to betray her Mages.

  I hold out my hand and gather my magic. It’s easier than ever to summon a small crystal disc. I concentrate, calling on Atrament’s silky strands, to shape it into a smooth, beautiful heart trinket. I offer it to her. “It will not decay. It is permanent.”

  I don’t mention that the Warden has a whole stockpile of it.

  The Emperor himself steps down to take the small crystal heart from me and passes it to the Empress.

  The Empress closes her palm over the crystal heart. “Report to my quarters in two hours. You will show me your Fell thread. If I am satisfied, we will discuss your place in the Empire. For now, the bounty on your heads is suspended.”

  I do not hide a smile.

  The Team is everything. The Team is sacred.

  And I will fight for mine.

  32

  CRYSTAL

  I have never been to the Empress’ private quarters. I am escorted wearing a light robe and nothing else but my familiar coiled around my forearm. My escorts are no less than two elite Aether teams: the Crystal-Aether team that had been at the Pit, and another more senior team lead by a Verdance Captain.

  Neither team is hostile. They are deeply disturbed. I can sense that—even though I’m not their Heart. It feels like the shape of light reflecting off a building. It’s quite odd.

  The Verdance Captain runs his hands over me to determine I’m not carrying any contraband hidden somewhere in my body and he pauses as he does so, eyes meeting mine.

  “Verdance,” his Aegis says, “what is it?”

  I go cold, and I ask Verdance. “Is it bad?”

  “What did you do to yourself?”

  “Made sure the Warden wouldn’t get his Pit-bred nightmare from me.” I manage to keep my voice from shaking.

  “You told the Empress there was no chance of that.”

  “Atrament and I orchestrated a ruse, but there was risk. The Warden is meticulous.”

  “I see.”

  “Can you tell if there was…”

  He removes his hands, expression completely blank and unreadable, even to my new, heightened senses. “Don’t torment yourself with what was necessary.”

  “Verdance, we’re expected,” Crystal says.

  “Shut up, Crystal,” Verdance says, tone brittle.

  Crystal taps his toe anyway. His Captain—the Inferno—gestures for him to stop it.

  He puts one hand on my shoulder and the other on my belly. He looks like an older, worn version of my Verdance, and it still hurts to think of my old Aether team. His magic reaches inside me like vines, and his expression flickers as he feels around. That’s not the unusual part, but the unusual part is he’s helping me at all—and his green eyes re-focus on me as his magic prods around.

  You aren’t a Crystal.

  I twitch as I feel his meaning inside my magic as clearly as if he’d told me.

  Verdance’s eyes meet mine once more.

  “We need to go, Verdance,” Inferno says.

  My snake hisses at Inferno.

  Verdance ignores them and his magical fingers twist and move like vines. It takes several moments. “Whatever was given to you to purge you was… let us say effective. But you’re very young, and should heal in time from what was essentially a traumatic birth. I’ve done what I can to help your pain. If you live long enough and cannot conceive, there is a retired Verdance who specializes in such things.”

  “Thank you.” I can’t recall an Aether having ever been kind to me.

  The Empress receives me in her parlor, or what I guess is her parlor: a golden room with sunlight streaming in and harvest flowers and golden leaves everywhere. With her is the Emperor, off to the side drinking wine, and their oldest daughter, a few other very trusted members of the Court, and an old retired Military commander who acts as her advisor.

  “Stay,” she tells the Aethers. “I don’t want rumors and speculations going through the Mages. I’m certain the fury at finding out about Fells becoming unwilling Pit prisoners is making its rounds.”

  “Yes, your most imperial grace,” Crystal confirms. “It certainly is. The details are very disturbing.”

  “What I find most irritating, Mage, is that it seems quite a few Mages knew about the Fells being in the Pit at all, and yet I was not informed. I would say this small detail was kept from me.”

  “We were not ordered to remain silent.” Crystal’s hair is close-shaven and many colors against his skull, and his skin seems coated in a beautiful, thin sheet of ice. “We were unaware you did not know.”

  The Empress raises a brow at him, her expression like the edge of a sharp piece of glass. “My Mages know that I would never approve of such a thing. While I appreciate my commanders thinking for themselves, and my Mages trusting their commanders, this is a violation of that trust and completely unacceptable.”

  The Emperor sips his wine.

  I imagine he’ll be drinking out of someone’s skull by morning.

  The Empress gestures to me. “On to the more practical matter of what is before me. Disrobe, Mage.”

  I drop the robe off my shoulders.

  She looks me up and down. Gestures for me to turn around. Comes up close to inspect the knot. Pokes it. Then backs up and clicks her tongue once. “That is not recent.”

  “No, your Imperial Grace. It was done some time ago.”

  “Long enough it would have rotted out by now.” She tilts her head. The old military commander comes forward to inspect. He grunts and says, “It’s not the best Tailoring job, but it is quite incorporated into her tapestry. It would have fallen out by now.”

  “And a Crevice Adder for a familiar,” the Empress
says. “How odd, wouldn’t you say.”

  “Quite.”

  “Show me the utility form,” she commands.

  I flick my wrist. My snake transforms into sword form, startling the Emperor and the Mages.

  The Empress doesn’t flinch, even though I was close enough a single lunge would have driven the sword into her. I present it to her with a twist of the wrist, blade parallel to us both, killing edge down.

  “Made in the Pit,” the Empress says as she examines the sword. “And very beautiful. You are resourceful, Mage. I would question which god granted you this familiar, but I am aware your familiar has always been a snake, much to everyone’s discomfiture.”

  I flick my wrist again and snake wraps itself around my wrist once more. It raises its head and hisses at the room.

  She studies the knot in my chest and shifts her weight to one foot. “An Aether with a very dangerous snake familiar—does it have venom?”

  Snake affirms it does, in fact, have venom, and it would very much like to try using it. “Yes.”

  “And here you are wearing Fell thread as well. Yet you are clearly an Aether. What’s the Atrament’s familiar?”

  “A hummingbird.”

  “Even more absurd than the Blood with the petal dragon.” She studies me again. “You are not telling me all of it.”

  I say nothing.

  She waves it off. “Keep your secrets for now. You are not stupid enough to try to play the cards against me. You present me with a problem. You understand that.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you have brought me an Atrament and knowledge. But is any of it useful?”

  “A good question.”

  She weighs me. “I presume the Atrament and the Rot Fell have their theories on why you are what you are. I notice you do not glow like a Crystal any longer. Your eyes are not the same. They remind me of a stained glass window. You are something else now.”

  “I know I am Heart.”

  “Oh, are you sure of that?” she asks. “I am not. It’s a pretty thing to say, like some magic word to stop the swing of an axe, but I am not convinced. You came from your mother’s womb, and my cousin is very cunning, and you have never been accused of being a fool, for all how you kept your head bowed and your tone demure to appease the court. But I’ve read your service record on the front. You’re clearly from this bloodline, you just play your part like we all do. You want your pardons. You want House Aether on the other side of this.”

  “Winning the war would be welcome too.”

  She half-smiles, but it’s cruel. “I am glad you still have your priorities in place. I find your… permutation… intriguing. And there has not been an Imperial Atrament for a very long time. But are you two useful? I have no idea, since he has never been trained, and you are… a Mage of very dubious value. On the other hand, I have absolutely no desire to lock any of you into the Academy like a bunch of Snows, not when you’re willing to go work with an established team of Fells. Even if one of them is a convicted murderer sent to the Pit for a crime he did commit. Unless he now has some excuse or denial.”

  “No, your Imperial Grace, he is very direct in what he did and why he did it. However, he lived three years in the Pit without any meaningful corruption. He is yet another… permutation worth studying.”

  “Intriguing. And I, of course, no longer trust the Academy, and I have lost considerable trust in various other individuals.”

  Nobody ever said the Empress was stupid.

  She flicks her hand. “The price is off your heads, but it is merely a stay of execution until I make up my mind. If it was up to me, I would grant you and ScatheFire your pardons to simplify my life. But we both know the court will not accept that. I cannot erase the past. But I can say I want to see how much value you can pile on your side of the scales. Perhaps it will be enough to outweigh your life until this point.”

  I nod. Figured as much.

  “I assume it was you who killed Frost? And of course I seem to have a Storm team that is related to your old Aether team that has a broken Aegis? I take it you had something to do with both of those.”

  I nod. “What happened to the Aegis?”

  “He is cracked but recovering. I am not inclined to punish the team further. They are completely unrepentant. Punishing them will do nothing, and my Mages are disturbed enough. Would you not agree, Verdance?”

  “Yes, your Imperial Grace,” he says.

  “The entire matter is sordid. My point, Mage,” she directs this to me, “is you have a tendency to kill Aethers. There are rumors you have been the agent of more than just the five confirmed destructions.”

  I say nothing. My snake squeezes.

  She grabs my chin and makes me look at her. “I read every report of a dead Mage, Fell or Aether. It is grim and daily reading. I was prepared for a strange story when you stormed my Capital. Do not get confused, Mage. I despise unanswered questions and wasted Mages, and that is all you are to me. You have been defiled with that Fell thread until you prove otherwise. I have no idea what you are useful for, if anything, but I intend to find out. You and your team should endeavor to unlock all your most useful secrets and lay them bare before me, as quickly and surely as possible. For your sake, I hope you and the Atrament are not merely academic curiosities. I have enough of those with the Snows. Now cover yourself and leave. I will send word shortly of what your name is.”

  33

  Crystal

  “So your parents aren’t the Emperor and Empress,” ScatheFire says as we ride up the stone road to my parent’s main house.

  We have some time to kill while waiting for the Empress to sort things. They’d tossed us into some barracks for the night, but then been informed we would be given my old quarters at the Academy for the duration. Since the porters are busy bringing in sheets, and I have no desire at all to be in those rooms again, we’ve decided to get our horses and go pay a visit to my parents.

  I smirk at him. “I told you I wasn’t her daughter.”

  “Disappointed?”

  Just laughter from the others.

  “No, she’s my… I think it’s aunt-once-removed? She and my mother are cousins.”

  The big house is as I remember it: an upright stone house set in the center of a large plot of greenery in a fashionable part of the capital city, guarded by high fences of stone and enchanted iron. Some old trees provide shade. We ride up to the main gate, where liveried guards stiffen upon seeing us. I recognize both of them.

  “We’re here to see the ArchDuke and ArchDuchess,” I say.

  “Are you expected?” one asks.

  “No, but please tell them a team of Imperial Mages wishes to have words with them. It won’t take long.” My parents won’t refuse to see us. When a team of Imperial Mages show up wanting to talk to you, you don’t refuse.

  A page is sent up to the main house. Half an hour later, a different page runs down the path, and whispers to the guards, who open the gate and let us pass.

  “So how do we behave?” Rot asks. “I’ve never been to an ArchDuke’s house before.”

  “Like an Imperial Mage,” I reply. “They’re not my family. Not really. Just look stern and menacing.”

  Another servant is waiting at the steps to escort us into the house. I recognize her too. She is the nasty maid-of-house who always told me I’d kill someone and shame the family. She nervously inquires, “Is this an official business?”

  “It is private business,” I say cooly.

  The interior of the house smells the same as always. The scent jolts me.

  My heart is beating hard as we’re led through the familiar corridors and hallways, pass the paintings and trinkets and antiquities, and views through the windows.

  We’re shown to the drawing room: the very large room lined with books and windows that my parents used for entertaining.

  My parents are both there, along with my two brothers, and my youngest sister, who, at nine years old, I barely know. I know my
younger brother, born four years after me, not much better. My sister-in-law is there as well.

  Why am I thinking of them as brother and sister? They aren’t.

  Except they sort of are. No matter what law and custom say, and no matter how many natural rules we’ve violated to wield the power of deities, the order of things ordained at the dawn of the world said we should not wield.

  I’m wearing my cavalry uniform since I don’t have Mage armor. I pull off my riding gloves. The Fells fan out, strolling around the drawing room to study the treasures. Atrament picks a book off a shelf. Rot tucks himself into a corner to glower like a very large suit of armor. Smoke fades into another corner. ScatheFire and Blood stay close, careless in their contempt for all of this and not above studying each member of my family.

  Do I really want to know the answer to this question?

  Yes.

  “What are you doing here, Crystal?” my oldest brother demands, tone ugly.

  “Her name is Heart,” Blood corrects.

  “According to the Empress, she does not even have a name,” my father states.

  “She’s a fucking Fell,” my brother says.

  “I’m an Aether with Fell reinforcement,” I reply as my Fells collectively glower. “And you’re standing in a room full of Imperial Fells. Mind what few manners you have.”

  “Why did you come?” my father asks, tone crisp.

  “You know exactly why I’m here. We both know that I didn’t mention quite a few things in court. Things I haven’t said to the Empress.”

  I eye him. “I’m not like this by chance. The Academy knew. They knew I needed Fell thread. Did you know? Did they ask your permission, and you refused to give it? Aren’t you angry that something could have been done to avoid this? All I want to know is what happened.”

  My father snorts. “Even if I did know, why would you want to know? Who do you plan to tell?”

  “I want to make sure no one tries to ever make more of me,” I say coldly.