by Lisa Daniels
The deed was done. He didn’t want it done, but when everyone else pushed their hopes onto him, and everyone expected him to solve the problem—what other choice did he have?
None at all, really. This had to happen. He left the stage, the sound of the crowd feeling like a force pushing him out of sight, and went straight past Luan without a word. She followed him quietly, no clever quips upon her tongue, following him all the way to Perran’s house on Azarus. Perhaps it was risky and stupid, walking blindly back without making any attempts to conceal himself, but he didn’t care.
Inside the safety of the house, he stared at the wall of the study room, after brushing aside timid servants’ requests. Luan stood nearby, arms folded, expression dark, chewing her bottom lip.
“Want to talk about it, Kerrick?”
“No,” he said with a hint of bite, before sighing and brushing a hand through his hair. He knew she’d just stand there impassively, waiting for him to speak. He licked his dry lips. “I’ll have to fight my father in two weeks from the day the challenge was issued. That gives me two weeks of training. Making sure… I’m ready.”
Luan nodded curtly. The silence lingered, and Kerrick found it harder and harder to focus on the study room and its various interesting assets, like the wall and the curtains, instead of on Luan, who seemed quite content to stand like a statue, regarding him.
“What do you want, Luan?” he asked, exasperated. She gave a little half-shrug.
“Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not destroying anything in this room. Or screaming. Or sinking into a puddle of despair. Figured it’d be one of the three. Just waiting for the blow-out.”
“Are you, now?” He let out a huff of irritation and stalked closer to her, wishing he could shake her stoic, blank attitude out. She instantly flexed herself, and he felt a soft buffet of wind against his body, which reminded him, oh, she’s an air witch, and he stopped a few meters from her.
“Not that kind of blow-out,” she said dryly, and Kerrick’s face likely resembled a beetroot at that point. He attempted to splutter something, but she cut him off with a, “Save it for later. Now, you. Go and vent if you need to. Don’t break anything, don’t go out—I need to guard the outside to make sure no one unsavory attempts to drop in. And you can have the time and space to process. Okay?”
“Okay,” he replied, sullen, as she released him from her air magic and left the room without another word. He supposed this was her attempt to care about him, to be nice to him—but he would have settled instead for a hug and a kiss.
Luan probably wasn’t a natural hugger and kisser, though.
Shame.
Chapter Seven – Luan
In the Undercity, there were some districts you just didn’t go into. The sprawling metropolis had several different councils within it, all with their own jurisdictions and laws. Some of them arrested you if you displayed any signs of magic and executed you with little provocation. Those districts tended to be bundled together, forming no-go zones. But if an individual was savvy enough, and understood the complexities of the Undercity’s municipalities, then they could theoretically cross the invisible line to another district and be free from persecution.
Otherwise, it was up to Luan and other task members from the Six Isles to try and locate accused witches before they were executed. They didn’t rescue them all. Most were unaware of their skills, too weak and unreliable to save themselves, or taken by the twisted narrative of their district: magic was evil.
Bored, Luan watched as the warden processed her release and transport writ, stamped by Perran and the prince’s official seals, and was rewarded with an ugly scowl.
“Not another one of you bleddy people,” the warden groaned.
“Take it up with my bosses if you dislike it so much,” Luan replied, now pretending to pick at her nails. “You know, you’d make life so much easier if you’d just inform us you have a witch.”
The warden’s jaw locked. “Demons. Sinners.”
“Those ‘demons and sinners’ help light up your streets. Carry airships. Provide drinkable water and harness storm energy. They make it so you don’t live in some cursing mud hut in a swamp.”
The warden didn’t appear all too impressed by her arguments, but rules were rules. He led her to the cell, and Luan came face to face with a scrubby little girl, perhaps no older than twelve or thirteen, with dark red streaks in her hair.
Another halfblood, Luan thought, settling outside the cage, keys pressed in her hand, to interrogate the child. It took a little prodding, but Luan managed to extract a name (Ella), and an inkling of Ella’s power, which sounded like she was a light witch. Possibly the least threatening witchy power out there, yet incredibly useful all the same, as their light also provided warmth. Luan didn’t know the science behind it, but she sure appreciated not freezing to death at inappropriate times.
“You’ll be trained up to be a light witch proper,” Luan told the little girl. Luan didn’t bother with smiles, because she figured she’d have more chance of making the girl shy away in terror at her faux friendliness. “And you’ll live in one of the Six Isles. Above everything. You’ll get to ride in an airship. You’ll get to be happy.”
The girl appeared extremely doubtful of what Luan told her. “But witches are bad.”
Luan resisted the urge to break out into a smile, knowing it’d look sinister to the child. “That’s what stupid people say. That’s what they say when they don’t understand. Some witches are bad, yes, this is true. But some are good, too. Just like how some humans are bad. Very bad,” Luan said, seeing something spark in the girl’s eyes. “And some are good. Witches are humans. That’s all.”
The girl took some time to ponder all this. Then she said, “Okay, I’ll come with you. But I want to meet the prince.”
Luan blinked rapidly. “Huh?”
“The prince,” Ella insisted. “Everyone’s talking ‘bout him down here. Saying how he went away then came back and is going to change everything. Can I meet him?”
A genuine chuckle slipped from Luan’s lips. “Sure. Why not? Let’s get you out of here and meet a sky-cursed prince.”
The little girl’s blue eyes lit up in excitement.
* * *
Kerrick dragged Luan to the side. “Why,” he hissed at Luan, who was shaking with silent laughter. “Why is there a little girl here?”
“She wants to meet her hero,” Luan said, brushing off Kerrick’s grip. “I just got her out of prison.”
“Prison?” Kerrick yelped, before his face melted into an awkward smile when pointed in the direction of Ella. “Why’s a kid in prison?”
“Witchcraft,” Luan said darkly. “Some areas of the Undercity are very ‘execute on sight’ when it comes to witches. I think we lose something close to a hundred potential witches every year because no one’s bothered annexing the hick parts of our beloved city.”
She saw Kerrick processing the statement, clearly baffled at Luan’s words. “They… kill witches here?”
“Yes. Certain traditional districts aren’t happy with the notion of witches at all. You didn’t know?”
“Of course not. I thought all the rules were the same.”
“City’s too big,” Luan replied, before shoving Kerrick toward Ella. “Go. Be nice and princely.”
She watched, arms folded, as the prince got onto his knees to greet Ella, whose eyes were shining like stars in the night sky. The little girl shook Kerrick’s hand with great enthusiasm, babbling about something, while he nodded and smiled in return.
Ella would eventually go to some family in the Six Isles who could accommodate a witch and be willing to train her, but Luan figured that this little visit would be good for the both of them. Kerrick needed a reminder of a stranger’s love, of the faith people put in him. Because Luan might not be the best at feelings, but she knew he’d be under a lot of stress while waiting and training for the showdown against his father, so little moments like this meant everything.
When Ella finally left, to be whisked away to her new future, Luan grabbed a drink for Kerrick, who looked small slumped over his armchair, his white shirt disheveled, his stubble beginning to grow out, and dark hair looking in need of a serious comb. She was reminded of her first meeting of him, when he resembled more some homeless tramp than an actual prince.
“She’s a good kid, that one,” Kerrick supplied after a long moment, staring at the floor as though it held the answers to the mysteries of life.
“Yeah.” It wasn’t Kerrick’s true thoughts, but Luan didn’t expect him to share. Her eyes did trace over his form, though. Even slumped like this, deflated of some of his former dignity, he had a kind of presence about him that made it hard for her to focus. And it had her constantly reminding herself that she shouldn’t be caught staring for too long, past what was socially accepted.
But, well. They’d kissed, hadn’t they? Prince or not, he’d been into it. So had she. Very… into it.
Great. Now her face burned, but thankfully, Kerrick was too preoccupied with the floor to notice. “I thought maybe it might help for you to talk to her. Just to have a reminder that people do care. Even hysterical thirteen-year-old girls who’ve only seen you in papers.”
“Those people don’t know me, though,” Kerrick whispered, and now Luan thought she began to understand the prince’s reticence. “They don’t know what kind of person I really am.”
“Who does?” Luan considered approaching him, trying to get him away from his current relationship with the floor, although she wasn’t sure if she could do this comforting thing. “We’re all wearing different masks for different occasions. We change, depending on the people we are with. So, I guess you could say that we’re always the same person, but we just choose to reveal different parts of ourselves to suit the occasion.”
Now Kerrick looked up, eyes narrowed, lips crinkled in an oddly adorable way that took some of Luan’s attention. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s not that hard. You’re not lying to people. It’s only lying if you’re withholding a truth from them that should be known.” This close to Kerrick, Luan’s mind raced through all the different things she wanted to try with him. To explore more about that kiss from earlier, even though she knew next to nothing. He’d promised to teach her, but since that kiss, things had gotten a little awkward between them.
Their eyes held contact for too long, and something broke between them. Kerrick reached for her as she sped to him, and their lips crashed together, hands and fingers wrapping around one another for closeness. Something burned inside her, and she whimpered against his lips, needy and frantic, unable to quell the desire. Every touch, every kiss flared it hotter, higher, and her urgency transferred to him as well.
In the blink of an eye, they’d reversed positions, him pressing her into the armchair, his weight against her, between her legs, kissing and leaving a wet trail from her lips to her neck.
“Wait, hold on,” Kerrick said with great effort as she chased his lips, trying to connect with them again. Disappointment surged through her, but she bit it back as best as able.
“Hmm?”
“Not yet,” he whispered.
“Why not—”
“Someone’s coming,” he said, backing completely away, and she sprang to her feet in a rush of adrenaline, quickly patting down her clothes.
Perran walked through the door to witness a scene of them appearing entirely too nonchalant and avoiding one another’s eyes.
“Luan, a word,” Perran said. He flicked a thin smile at Kerrick. “You should get some rest, Prince. We’re going to have a long day training.”
Kerrick grunted something in response, and Luan continued taking deep, steady breaths, not wanting her boss to see her acting so unprofessionally. Giving into emotions like some teenager. She followed Perran out, partly wondering if he’d heard or seen anything, because if Kerrick did, then it stood to reason…
Perran didn’t mention anything, however. “The null witch is here from Zamorka.”
“Already?” Luan gaped. “But didn’t you ask for her only a few days ago?” Since he’d been expecting Kerrick to challenge and expecting Kerrick’s father to play dirty.
“She was en route for another reason,” Perran said with a thin smile. “She’ll be a guest at Meridas’ place. She wants to help flush out some of the corruption in our kingdom, as relations between Leavenport and the Six Isles are more important than ever.” He stopped in a small study room, indicating the null witch. “Make friends. I’m going to bed.”
Silently fuming as Perran left, Luan attempted a smile at the blonde-haired witch in front of her. “Hey.”
“Hello.” The null witch quirked thick lips into a smile, blue eyes amused. “Air witch, I see. I can smell it.”
“That’s nice.”
They stared at each other awkwardly.
“Well…” Luan shrugged. “Let’s test you.” She held up one hand, and instantly slammed her magic into the witch, who choked as the breath was snatched from her lungs.
With a snarl, the witch pulsed something, and Luan’s magic vanished. Startled, Luan tried reaching for her beloved power, only to grasp at some invisible, black wall within her mind.
“Nice,” Luan said. “I’ve never seen a null witch before.”
“Heh…” the witch rubbed at her throat, taking a few wheezing breaths until she could speak normally again. “And I’ve never seen an air witch do what you did. Tell me, is this how you greet all your guests?”
“Only the special ones,” Luan said, grinning. She might be irritated for some reason, high strung with the memory of Kerrick’s heavy kissing session on her skin and lips and mind, but she would at least try to rein in any more of her… violent tendencies. “We have a life witch as well somewhere. Maybe you’ll want to meet her tomorrow?”
“Oh, I would,” the null witch purred. “Name’s Adaline.”
“Luan.” They shook hands firmly. No hard feelings.
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t greet me like that again.”
“Sorry,” Luan said, not sorry at all. “Just a little annoyed with my boss.”
They walked off together, with Luan showing Adaline where she’d sleep, intending to work closely with the null witch tomorrow so she could work through all the important contacts in the Six Isles. Luan also intended to brood in her bed all night, paranoid that Perran might hear her go to Kerrick’s room, and frustrated enough to punch her pillow a few times, before slipping into an angry sleep.
Chapter Eight – Kerrick
Kerrick barely saw Luan after that breathless assault. He had to avoid thinking about her too much, though, because the thought of her and all the senses she engaged with him was enough to get him bulging. Once, very awkwardly, in front of Perran as they sparred, but the dragon shifter shrugged it off, as if it were perfectly normal that sparring partners became erect.
The older dragon worked Kerrick ruthlessly, in both dragon form and human form. Kerrick had to learn to protect his neck, always protect his neck, as one good grip of the teeth could ruin him. He learned to use his wings to add additional force, his tail as a whip, and to engage his stronger back claws if his opponent lay on the ground. In human form, he practiced with fists, and a sword.
Luan, meanwhile, was stuck with that null witch, which left Kerrick yearning for the time when he’d be able to get her back in his arms again. Since he wasn’t going out, he didn’t need protection, and it felt strange to look behind him and not see the air witch there.
The days crept closer. Word spread about the challenge, which would take place in the same amphitheater where he called for the Kingmatch.
His father remained silent. No letters. No assassins, either, thankfully, but Kerrick suspected that wasn’t deliberate. His father most likely would love to assassinate him if possible.
He spent hours trying to get to sleep the night before, thoughts alternating between dread from engaging
his father, to annoyance he hadn’t seen Luan, when he wanted nothing else but to pick up right where they left off, without any interruptions. Storms, he wanted to taste her lips again, to feel her heartbeat thudding close, to screw her senseless…
But instead, a dull ache was left in his heart, along with the dread, and the nerves, and everything else that made him want to throw himself out the window and fly away as far as possible from everything. Start a new life.
He still didn’t know if he wanted to be king, either.
He only knew that his father couldn’t be.
The day of the match brought sunshine and clear skies. Of course it did. No dramatic weather, no storms or rains or high winds to indicate the enormity of the event. Just a normal, bright day. Somehow it pissed him off. He barely managed his breakfast, grew more annoyed when he saw no Luan with him, and was almost at boiling point by the time he and Perran left to head to the amphitheater, with Luan and that null witch joining them halfway.
Although Luan didn’t say anything, she did place a hand on his shoulder, and he felt a little better to see her smiling at him, with a hint of concern in those dark eyes.
“Missed you,” he said softly, guts churning as they neared the amphitheater.
Her jaw locked and unlocked a few times, before she admitted, “I missed you, too. And I really… really wish we could have spent more time together.”
“We will,” he assured her, even though he couldn’t exactly make promises right now. Not when he was close to death’s door. When only one of two people would make it out alive from the Kingmatch.
Ushered in by the constabulary, Kerrick made it to the soft dirt floor past the wooden stage of the amphitheater, where usually there would be chairs. The null witch stayed nearby by the stage with Luan.
And Kerrick waited for his father to arrive. The seats in the amphitheater were already full, and after initial cheering and booing when Kerrick emerged from the stage, the audience had slipped into rumbling conversation with one another instead.
