Revelation

by C. A. McHugh

  “He knows, Uncle Binnius. Our ruse is up.”

  The headmaster set his papers down, an amused smile forming beneath his beard. “Not completely. You’ve only mentioned that he knows you’re from Oudesta. He doesn’t know your age, your complete abilities, or your rather unique heritage.”

  “At least not that he was willing to divulge to me.”

  “And if he did, do you think you’d still be standing here? I know for a fact that he was accompanied by a dozen members of the Royal Guard, and they could’ve easily confined you while you were incapacitated if he’d given the order.”

  “I think the boy is more insightful than you give him credit for.”

  “And I think you care for him and his friends more than you are willing to admit.” He went back to sorting the contents of his desk. “Otherwise, why would you risk exposing what you were to save them from the firebird?”

  She wanted to shoot back that she didn’t care, but the words died in her throat. It was probably divine intervention that she’d stumbled upon them in the first place. After nearly two weeks of trying in vain to cross the Divide, she’d given up and decided to return the Academy to pack her things. Bhasha had been the one to sense the initial danger, even though they’d been miles way, and that stupid cat wouldn’t leave her alone until she’d crossed the protective wards and teleported to the scene.

  At first, she couldn’t tell who the victims were, but the moment she heard Aerrin ordering the others to run and save themselves, her pace quickened with worry. She had to intervene and save them. “It was something any competent mage would’ve done.”

  “You can’t lie to me, my child, but if there is any chance I could persuade you to stay—”

  “There’s none.”

  “Then I ask you to perform one small favor for me before you go.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white rock the size of his fist. The distinctive serene melody it emitted when he touched it confirmed it to be sepharium even before she had a chance to exam it. “I have a friend who’s been experiencing some rather hostile voices in his head lately to the point where they are wrestling his free will from him. I would greatly appreciate it if you could create a small charm to protect him from such unpleasantness.”

  She drew her brows together and studied him. The old man was up to something. “Why don’t you cast the spell yourself?”

  “I would, but I am already weary from my travels, and there’s quite an urgent need for this. Besides, considering what you are, I think any spell you’d cast would be far stronger than mine. Your kind values free will very highly, is that not so?”

  “I’m only half-elf.” But he had a point about her elven heritage. The elves considered robbing any creature of its free will to be the gravest crime one could commit, and those with elven blood had the ability to cast powerful spells that shielded the mind from such threats. She reached for the stone and examined it, savoring its faint music the moment her fingers contacted it. “If you wanted the strongest magic, you should’ve asked my mother.”

  “Alas, I didn’t know of the need until I had returned to Elgeus, and after watching your frustrations with the Seven, I thought it wise not to push my luck with them.”

  “Smart man.” She weighed the consequences of delaying her departure a few more hours. The world was still asleep at this hour, but it was also when demonic activity would be at its height. If she wanted to start tracking the Raven Bringer down, now would be the time to do it. But the thought of someone falling victim to mind-manipulation caused her stomach to roil.

  “This is more than enough sepharium for what you ask of me.”

  “Then take what you need and save the rest for later. I’m sure you’ll find a good use for it. The goddess forbid, if anything were to happen to your amulet, this way you’d have enough to cast a new camouflaging spell.” He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “And on that note, I’ll leave you to your task. Unless, of course, you’d like to consider my plea for you to stay here and help me protect the king.”

  “It’s not my calling.”

  He looked pointedly at her. “Are you so certain? If not, then why would the Oracle suggest you do as I suggested months ago?”

  The Oracle’s decree was the only thing that had convinced her father to allow her to cross the Divide in the first place, and she hadn’t even known why her uncle had asked for her to come to the Academy until after she’d arrived.

  “Perhaps the Oracle is hearing hostile voices, too?” she quipped. “Perhaps I should make a matching charm for her.”

  Binnius chuckled. “I’m going to miss you, my child. Your presence here helped ease some of my worries these past few months, and for that, I am grateful.”

  Another twinge of guilt pulled at her conscience as he rose from his chair. As much as she’d downplayed her role at the Academy as a waste of time, she also had to admit she’d managed to save a few lives in the process. Like the night of Jarilith’s attack. Or the day she’d distracted the Raven Bringer while Aerrin was in Gentilmead. Or last night when an enraged firebird threatened to turn Aerrin and his friends into ashes. If she hadn’t been there for any of those instances, how many people who have died?

  She pushed those doubts out of her mind and focused on the final task she’d been given. Sepharium had two remarkable qualities. The first was the sweet tune it hummed when touched. The second was its ability to hold a spell. Back in Oudesta, it was not uncommon for people to don several different pieces of sepharium jewelry containing various protection or luck spells, but one always had to careful to keep the magic in check. Certain spells interacted with others in nasty ways, like youth and wealth spells. It was the gods’ somewhat cruel way of maintaining balance in the mortal realm.

  She clasped the amulet around her neck and heard the same song. The emerald green jewel in the center was a centuries-old piece of sepharium that made the wearer appear human. It had been crafted for her grandfather when he’d been exiled from Oudesta and used to hide his elven ancestry, and now it did the same for her.

  She cleared off a space on her uncle’s desk and chiseled off a small piece of the sepharium. It was about the size of the tip of her thumb, more than enough to hold a shield spell. As she cast the ritual to hold the spell, the rough edges smoothed out, and the cloudy stone cleared to a brilliant peridot green. By the time she finished, the sun peeked over the horizon. The ritual had left her drained, and her body demanded a quick nap before she began her quest.

  After she tied a leather cord around the stone, she headed back to her bed. Unfortunately, she ran right into Aerrin when she entered the common room.

  He looked just as surprised to see her. “You’re up early.”

  “So are you,” she replied in a clipped tone. She’d wasted enough time on polite talk with him.

  He blinked several times and appeared taken aback by her terse response. “I heard Master Binnius was back.”

  “He is, but he’s sleeping, much as I wish to do.” She tried to pass him, but he blocked the route to her bedroom.

  “Just a moment. I wish to have a word with you.”

  “So it’s a wish now, not a royal command.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I can issue one, if that’s what you need.”

  So far, he’d kept her out of a prison cell, despite knowing what he suspected about her. And if she was stuck in his kingdom, thanks to the Seven, she might as well find out exactly how much he knew about her.

  She dropped in to a low curtsy. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  “You know I hate being called that while I’m here.” He pointed to a chair and sat in the one across from it.

  “Why do you think I called you that?” She leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms in her best impression of a sullen teenage human. “Out with it.”

  To his credit, he managed to stay calm and collected, the very model of how a king should act when faced with hostile company. “Who are you?”

 
The last thing she wanted to do was reveal more than she should. Now was the time to test his knowledge, though. She deflected his question with one of her own. “Who do you think I am?”

  “Where should I start unraveling your lies?” he countered.

  Now it was her turn to remain cool and aloof. She kept a disinterested expression on her face. “This should prove interesting.”

  “I know you’re from Oudesta, Seroney Meritis.”

  She drew in a quick breath and held it for several heartbeats. All this time, she’d taken great care not to reveal her family name, and yet somehow, he’d learned it. She tried to remember if her mother’s letter contained any heraldry, any clue to who she was. She forced her lungs to release the air they held. “Excuse me?”

  “Let’s stop playing games. I know you’re from Oudesta because no one in Elgeus has been able to read Elvish since before the Great Divide.” He seemed to catch her counterargument while it was forming in her mind and cut her off. “And yes, I know that letter was in Elvish because Nyssa found an old dictionary and used it to translate your mother’s letter.”

  She glanced around the room. How many other students had returned early? What if someone else overheard this conversation?

  She rose from her chair and started for the stairs. “I don’t have time for this.”

  Aerrin bolted to his feet and pushed past her, blocking the entrance to the stairs. “I’m not finished.”

  “Then please have the courtesy to fling your wild accusations with a level of decorum and privacy befitting the matter.” She leaned in closer to him. “Or do you want the rest of the kingdom to know what the Raven Bringer has done?”

  Aerrin’s eyes widened, but he appeared to understand the implications of her statement. He stepped aside. “We’ll continue this in my room.”

  “And start a nasty rumor?”

  “There’s no one else here yet for the new term except a few master mages and my friends.” He pointed up the stairs. “My room. Now.”

  She bit back a laugh and complied with his command. If she wanted to, she could do far more than simply resist. She could rip him to shreds. But as her uncle insinuated, she had grown rather fond of the boy. He might actually turn into a good king one day.

  Once she put him in his place.

  She could hear Leandros’s snores a good hundred meters before they passed his room, and she wondered if Aerrin would be wise enough to wake up his best friend and ask him to serve as a witness. Aerrin, however, walked right past his friend’s door and straight into his room.

  The boy was too trusting, perhaps even a little too arrogant that his title would keep him from harm. Now was her chance to strike some much-needed fear into his heart. The second she stepped into his room, she cast one of her father’s favorite spells. The doors and windows slammed shut, all encased in a halo of green magic.

  Aerrin darted around the room, his lips moving with silent words until he finally found his voice. “What did you just do?”

  “I cast a seclusion ward, Your Majesty. No one goes in or out until I lift it, and no one can eavesdrop on our conversation.” She grabbed a poker and stoked the fire to warm the chilly room. “I thought it best to have as open a conversation as possible.”

  He came alongside her and shoved her shoulder so that she turned to face him. “I could kill you—”

  “You’d be stuck into this room until one of the master mages figured out how to lift the ward. But I warn you, it’s a spell from Oudesta, and I’ve only seen it broken once in my life.”

  He stepped back. “So you admit you’re from Oudesta?”

  “I think you’ve pretty much confirmed in your mind that I’m from there, so why protest?” She continued to focus on the reinvigorated flames while she phrased her next question. “I find it very curious that you called me Seroney Meritis. What led you to believe that is my name?”

  “Is it your name?”

  She answered him with a side glance and an arched brow.

  “I heard Master Philgus mention your family name, and considering the history connected with your ancestor, I can understand why you wouldn’t want it known.” He inched toward her. “But you are a Meritis.”

  She chuckled. If he only knew what being a Meritis meant back home, he wouldn’t have been so bold to confront her. “I am. And yes, my ancestor left Elgeus at the time of the Great Divide because he was disgusted with King Anilayus’s treatment of the other races. Genocide is hardly noble, after all.”

  Aerrin took another shuffling half step until his shoulder bumped up against hers again. “Neither is regicide.”

  “My ancestor didn’t murder Anilayus. In fact, he tried to save his cousin’s life because that was the kind of man he was. But during the upheaval created by the rise of the Great Divide, Anilayus slipped and fell. It was an accident, not a murder, and I’m sorry if you’ve been brought up to think that.”

  Aerrin turned on his heel and paced the room. His brow furrowed, and he pressed his hand against his chin as he digested the information she’d given him.

  Seroney continued to poke at the burning log in the fireplace. She’d confirmed what he said he knew, but a trickle of fear kept her on high alert. What else did he know? And would he enforce the laws his ancestors enacted centuries ago, especially if he knew more about the Meritis family than just what happened at the Great Divide?

  Finally, he stopped behind her. “Why are you here, Seroney?”

  He was more than an arm’s length away, and yet his question carried enough force to leave her jarred. If she had her way, she would’ve left hours ago. People kept finding excuses to keep her here, though, and the longer she remained, the more she questioned her original plan. “I’m not quite sure, Aerrin.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She continued to look into the fire as though it might offer her an answer. “It means I’m at a crossroad, a junction, and I have to think very carefully about my next move.”

  “Because I know who you are?”

  Partially. But she nodded to appease him.

  “May I share my thoughts?”

  She chuckled again. “You are the king.”

  “Precisely. And I know you are somehow connected to Master Binnius, according to the letter, so I know he’s aware of who you are and where you came from. And there was a reason he invited you to the Academy. For months, I’ve been trying to guess his motives, and every time I drew one conclusion, either you or he would reveal something that made me second-guess it.”

  He took the poker from her and wrapped his hand around hers. “Seroney, you know the Raven Bringer’s back, and as sorry as I am for your loss, I hope that it will fuel your desire to fight alongside me. I can’t do this alone. I need every ally I can get, and the more passionate they are about seeing our enemy destroyed, the harder they’ll fight. We may be from different places, but we can be united against him. Please, stay.”

  “And how do I know I can trust you not to turn on me when it’s over?”

  “I’m asking you not only as a king, but as a hopeful friend.” His voice softened with the heartfelt plea, his expression practically glowing with earnestness. “You’ve helped me in ways I didn’t realize, and I was an idiot to treat your gestures of friendship with suspicion and disdain. Anyone who is willing to risk her life to save mine is a true friend.”

  “But would you do the same for me?” She never blinked while she waited for his response. If word got out about her origins, there would be more than just Master Philgus calling for action against her. If she was going to stay and fight alongside him as an ally, she had to know he was her ally in return.

  “I would.”

  She searched for any trace of a lie, of deception, of all the things she’d grown up hearing about the kings of Elgeus. But the sincerity remained. She closed her eyes to reflect on it. When she opened them again, the image of her grandmother’s mutilated head flashed before her, transposed over Aerrin’s face.

&
nbsp; No, I can’t let that happen to this boy.

  Her uncle’s suggestion echoed in her mind and chased away the chilling image. “You should really learn more about demons,” she said, yanking her hand from his.

  “I would, but according to every master mage I’ve asked, I’m not allowed to. Even Master Binnius refused to teach me.”

  “You of all people should know how confining politics can be. Thankfully, they aren’t as restrictive in Oudesta when it comes to such matters.”

  His face brightened, only to be tempered by a hint of suspicion. “You know about demons?”

  “How to fight them, yes. I’m afraid I know very little about how to summon one, if that’s what you’re asking about. After seeing Naisibus summon that Jarilith, though, I have a good idea how it’s done.”

  Aerrin rubbed the back of his neck. “Would you mind teaching me how to vanquish a demon? After all, you were the one person who helped me master the mistform spell.”

  “I think I might be able to teach you a few things, but first, I need to rest. I was up all night working on something for Master Binnius.” She murmured the spell to drop the ward.

  “Is that Elvish?” he asked, his head tiling slightly to the side.

  “What do you think?” She opened the door and started for her room, but he halted her.

  “So you’re going to stay?” he asked quietly.

  She paused and ran through all the reasons she had to stay. Looking at the boy in front of her, they far outweighed the reasons to leave. “As long as it’s safe for me to remain here.”

  “Thank you.” He gave her a smile of sincere gratitude. It wasn’t the tight-lipped one she’d seen him use when people granted his wishes because he was king. This one was generous and open, the same smile he used with Leandros and Nyssa.

  Finally, after months of trying to enter his inner circle, she was in.

  And not a moment too soon. The Raven Bringer was gaining power, and young King Aerrin needed all the help he could get.

  Chapter 10

  Raimel reached inside his now-tattered linen shirt, and his fingers brushed his new amulet. A faint hum of music came from the green stone until he moved on to grab the silver crescent moon pendant that also hung around his neck. The goddess of duality was the one deity who might be able to understand him. He offered a quick prayer that he wasn’t about to get royally screwed.