Enemy Of My Enemy (Price Of Power Book 1)

by Laura Stephens

  Ben sighs and sits down in the chair closest to him. “That’s when you changed? That’s when you went from the Lord everyone adored to the one everyone hated.”

  Maddox nods. “Yes. I removed every memory but my own. It was my decision to make. It was my decision to live with as well.” A tear falls down his cheek, leaving a wet trail on his skin. “I hate myself every day for what I did to them.”

  “You had to have known we would find out once we got here,” Lincoln says.

  “That’s why he didn’t want to join with Seraphina in the first place,” I answer. “How many, Maddox. How many people did you leave in the wilderness to die?”

  He sinks further down in his chair until his elbows rest on his knees. “Five hundred and thirty two.”

  “Five hundred!” Ben yells. “That’s not possible. How! How does no one know about this?”

  “Five hundred and thirty two,” Maddox corrects him. “No one knows. Every mind bender in Pensatore worked for weeks to remove every trace of them from the minds of those left in the settlement. Every chance encounter, every romantic embrace, every single memory of them was erased until it was like they never existed. And then, I had one bender, Gretta, erase the memories of the other benders. She and I are the only ones who remember the truth of what happened.” His words hold no cockiness. He’s not proud of what he did. He’s gutted by it.

  Lincoln takes a seat next to his brother. “You killed five hundred people.”

  “No. I didn’t kill them. I chose not to kill them. I gave them a chance to live. I abandoned those people so that thousands could survive. I did it for the greater good and I hate myself for it.”

  “What caused this illness?” Emmy asks.

  Maddox shrugs. “I don’t know.” He focuses on the two brothers. “The three of you tried for weeks to figure out the cause, but never did.”

  “I don’t remember any of that,” Lincoln admits.

  “Of course you don’t. You aren’t supposed to.” The old man stands up, looking every bit his age. “I am unfit to be the Lord of Pensatore. I’ve known it since the moment my people were left in the mountains alone. I had …” he chokes back a sob, “I had to see it through. I had to make sure that they didn’t return to finish what they had started. I shall relinquish my crown effective immediately.”

  He kneels in front of Ben. “I’ve left Tessa in charge of the settlement while we are gone. After this war is done, a new leader can be appointed. Until then, Pensatore belongs to you. Take better care of them than I have.” Ben’s eyes go wide and he stutters for words. Maddox crosses the tent, stopping at the exit. “I shall make the announcement.”

  The four of us stand in silence. Lincoln looks pissed off that his memories were yanked from him. Ben looks terrified that he is now responsible for an army days away from going to war. Emmy … she looks very uncomfortable to even be in the middle of this. And me … I never meant for Maddox to just give up and leave. How could I have known confronting him like I did would end like this?

  Ben jumps to his feet, grabs his chair and bashes it into the floor over and over again until it shatters. Emmy covers her lips with the palm of her hand as she watches with tear filled eyes.

  What have I done?

  23

  He did it. That bastard actually went through with it. He relinquished his status on the eve of war. There’s no way I could have known this would happen. All this time, he kept himself together as best he could. The man I’ve known these past two months isn’t the man who has led Pensatore. The person I know is nothing more than a defeated man, one who was holding himself together as best he could for as long as he could. No. There’s no way I could have known that confronting him about what was going on would make him snap the way he did.

  Every Pensatore member in this camp is standing motionless and silent, watching as Maddox weaves between them. His shoulders sag from the defeat within him and the weight that he has carried for so long. The only sound in the camp is the constant and damp wind, the limbs of the trees rustling from its force. Leaves crunch under Maddox’s steps and no one dares speak. Pensatore is leaderless. Well, not entirely.

  Ben is the first to move when he turns to Lincoln, a look of bewilderment stretched across his face. Before they left for this camp, Maddox announced Ben as his second in command, as the person that will replace him should he fall in battle. It’s a temporary position just until Pensatore can hold an election for the next ruler. Considering our current situation, there’s no knowing how long that will be. Ben is now responsible for every person in this camp. For their wellbeing. For their victory. For bringing as many of them home as possible.

  “Where is Rovente?” I ask. I mean for it to come out as something just above a whisper, but as head after head turns in my direction, I realize that I’ve spoken louder than intended.

  Emmy hisses my name under her breath, probably in warning to drop it. I ignore her. “When are they supposed to be here?” We can’t move forward against the Aetheries clan until Seraphina arrives with her army. I consider asking about whether Ben’s intent is still to go to war against that clan. I don’t. The only one of us that had been against the idea was Maddox, who has now disappeared in the maze of white tents.

  A muscle ticks in Ben’s jaw as he turns to the worried soldiers. “Nothing has changed,” he says strongly. “We will wait here until Rovente arrives, then we go to the Aetheries settlement as one army. Eat and rest.” He turns around on his heels, his shoulder nudging into mine as he passes.

  I go to follow him, the urge to explain myself impossible to ignore.

  Emmy grabs my elbow, a look of warning in her eyes. “Let’s find something to eat,” she says.

  Lincoln hovers over me as the soldiers begin to disperse to their tents. “She’s right, you need to eat. I’ll take care of Ben.” He bends down, kissing me lightly on the lips, a kiss that I don’t return.

  There’s no way I could have known this would happen. Over and over the sentence repeats in my mind as I try to convince myself that it’s true. I highly doubt that Maddox abandoning his clan when they need him will have any direct impact on this war. What if it does? Will the deaths of dozens or hundreds or everyone be on me? I snort not because I find this situation funny, but because I highly doubt that fate thought I would single-handedly destroy a clan when it gave me three tellings.

  “I’m not hungry,” I mutter to neither of them specifically. I don’t wait to hear their protests before losing myself in the mass of people.

  All the tents look the same to me. All the soldiers are identical with their matching uniforms and I quickly have no idea where I am. Finding the edge of the camp, I wander a few feet into the dense and moss covered forest, leaning against a wide tree trunk, I sink down, letting the damp bark scratch along my leather jacket.

  Tucking my knees into my chest, I try to process everything. Seraphina claimed that a group of people started to behave oddly, eventually going on killing sprees. This was sixty years ago and the King of Rovente banished them. Theoretically, these people formed a new clan: Aetheries. Five years ago it happened again, only this time it was to Pensatore. Maddox did the same as the Rovente King and banished those who were sick in order to save the rest. Clearly at least some of them lived through the winter, the man I killed being one of them.

  What happened to them though? What caused such a change in their behaviors?

  Lincoln killed that witch that attacked me and Emmy at the gas station. I know now that she possessed the dark power that Aetheries is known for. Even the man I set on fire by accident was the same way. Stanley, the first warlock I ever met and who ultimately tried to kidnap me twice, was …

  I pull at my hair trying to remember him. He was a fire elemental, but it wasn’t a dark power … was it? There’s no way of knowing. Stanley didn’t have a visible power, his hands heated up but that was it. Lincoln assumed he was Aetheries just like the others that were chasing me. Just like the ones that had a
ttacked us in the Pensatore settlement.

  Settling on the fact that Stanley is and will always be a question mark, I go back to the man I killed. To his black eyes and veins. He felt no pain, saw no reason, he never spoke. He wanted one thing and one thing only… to kill me.

  The sound of leaves rustling pulls me from my thoughts. Looking up I see Lincoln. “How did you find me?” I ask him.

  “Some of the soldiers pointed me in the right direction.” He squats down next to me, leaning against my tree. The warmth of his body leaks into mine. “Ben is fine, just a bit dumbfounded by the sudden change of events.”

  I don’t apologize because what happened isn’t my fault. If I hadn’t brought it up, someone else would have and the result would have been the same. “Do you remember the day we met? Do you remember the witch that had attacked me?”

  He nods. “Of course.”

  “She spoke to me. I remember the whites of her eyes and the light blue flecks in her eyes. The same with Stanley and the third guy that attacked me. They were all normal. They knew exactly what they were doing. They were in control. All three of them.”

  His large hand falls on the top of my knee, squeezing gently. “What’s this about?”

  “We’ve all believed that it was the Aetheries clan that was after me for some reason. Even those two warlocks you and Kaleb killed in the settlement said the same.” I pick at a crispy leaf, tearing it apart one piece at a time. “What made you think it was them in the first place?”

  Lincoln clears his throat, releasing his hold on my leg. “Their powers. The witch was a dark water elemental.”

  My lips purse because that’s exactly what I thought he was going to say. “What’s the difference then? That man in the woods … you saw him. He looked just as you described your mother’s killer looking like. That’s what the two warlocks in the settlement looked like – granted, they weren’t nearly as bad. Those first three though, the ones that showed up before you did. They were completely in control. Their appearance was normal. What’s the difference?”

  The moonlight shines through the trees, illuminating us just enough that I can see his features. That I can see his own dumbfounded look. He doesn’t know. Is there anyone in this realm that does? Seraphina made it sound as though she knew less than we did. If the Watcher does, which is likely, there’s no chance in hell he would tell us. He never has given away anything important and always gives the same excuse that he isn’t allowed to. The god would be no help right now.

  “There’s got to be something that …”

  My words are drowned out by heavy cracks of thunder. Both Lincoln and I glance up, trying to see through the thick branches overhead. There’s no need though. Flashes of light filter down to us, booms echo through the forest, screams fill in the gaps. Screams of thousands of soldiers in the camp.

  24

  Neither of us move as we digest what is happening. “What are you doing?” he asks.

  The strong smell of smoke hits me, making me cough. “It’s not me.” I jump to my feet, Lincoln doing the same. “If it’s not me, then who the hell is it?” More and more screams filter through the trees.

  “I don’t know.”

  My chest heaves as adrenaline starts to flow through my body. Lightning slams into the ground with so much strength, it rattles the earth and vibrates up my legs. This isn’t someone showboating. The element isn’t like mine. It isn’t that whitish blue that I’m used to. It’s black, a luminescing black that shines as bright as my own. “It’s an attack.” My voice is soft and bewildered. “It’s an attack, Lincoln!”

  Suddenly my feet are moving, the leaves crunching below me. Thin branches scrape my face as I run through the forest and back towards the camp. Even over my ragged breathing I can hear the crackle of fires. Large fires. “Emmy!” I scream her name over and over as I sprint closer and closer. “Emmy!”

  Lincoln paces me easily but says nothing. We both stop at the treeline, trying to understand what is directly in front of us. The lightning lights up the night sky as it tears apart the camp. Tents are ignited and burning, smoke billowing up into the sky. Soldiers pull their swords from their sheaths, their eyes searching and searching. Some dump buckets of dirt onto the fires, trying to put them out. Some scream out in pain, the lightning scorching their flesh. Some remain motionless on the ground, smoke rising up from their burned bodies.

  My eyes shift from one soldier to another, searching for an enemy but all I find are the black leathers of our own people. There’s not a single enemy soldier in sight. Victims. We are all victims and it makes my blood boil. “EMMY!” I take off again, dodging one bolt after another. My lungs scream from the smoke and each breath is a struggle.

  Lincoln screams my name, chasing after me, yelling at me to stop. I ignore him and barrel though anyone who doesn’t jump out of my way.

  This is it. We weren’t prepared for a war, not really. Hell, this isn’t even a war because the enemy won’t even show their faces. This is an attack. A magical fucking attack.

  Jumping over another charred body, I see it for what it really is … a massacre.

  The lightning covers the entire camp, wreaking havoc everywhere it touches. Horses kick and neigh, stampeding through the devastation, trampling anything and anyone in their path. The soldiers, having realized that there is no one to fight against, run to the trees trying to find shelter against the lightning.

  A group of three witches catches my eye as they huddle together as the lightning, pinned down by the lightning. The ground quakes with a rhythm of footsteps as a giant heads towards them. Maddox. He’s a giant. A power that’s been hidden and unused for the entirety of the brief time I’ve known him. Even in this form, his navy blue robes drag along the ground. He ignores it as the material catches on fire from being dragged through a fire. He falls to his knees beside the group and scoops them into his hands, pressing them into his chest. He stops, looking up.

  A wall of electricity forms, heading towards us, zapping and igniting anything it touches. Maddox rises and tries to run away, the witches still tucked into his chest. He’s too slow and he knows it. Back on his knees, he hunches over, shielding his chest the best he can as the wall strikes him. His screams surpass the loud sizzle of the wall. The smell of burning flesh reaches me and I almost vomit.

  The wall disintegrates, leaving the lightning to finish us off. Maddox’s huge torso falls to the ground. The three witches scurry out of his grasp, alive and well, and they run.

  “VIOLET!” Lincoln screams.

  I stare at what is left of Maddox. A treasured ruler who was put into a horrible position that ultimately destroyed who he was. He sacrificed himself to save those three people. When the attack came … he didn’t run.

  My eyes go wide and I curse softly as the pieces start to put themselves together.

  In a place without magic, seek to find the one hidden from the darkest of minds. Ability born of power and light will protect her from becoming the night. When the attack comes, do not run but face like with like.

  Like with like. Face lightning with lightning.

  “Violet!” Lincoln yells again. I can see him now, scratches mar his perfect face from the branches hitting him and blood trails down his cheek. I want to talk to him, to tell him what I’m about to do, but there’s no time. He must see something in my face because his eyes go wide as he starts to understand.

  I climb up a fallen tree, standing taller than anything around me as black lightning crashes all around us. Lifeless bodies litter the ground, some burned beyond recognition. The bolts reflect in the icy blue depths of Lincoln’s eyes as he looks up at me pleadingly. “We have to get out of here, Violet. We have to go. Now.”

  I have no idea what I’m doing. None. But something inside of me stirs as I looks down at the damage and death. I will not be a victim nor will the thousands of soldiers running for their lives. I’m the only one who has the magic to make this all stop. I don’t know where to direct my rage or
my power. But somehow, deep down, I know that this will work.

  That it has to work.

  Thunder cracks, rattling my bones. A shimmering black bolt arcs down, hitting only inches away from me. The tree under my feet shakes and crackles. The electricity flowing through it is hot enough that I can feel it even through my boots. The smaller branches catch fire, the bark going next. Flames kiss around my legs for only a moment before a gush of water starves the oxygen from the fire, killing it. Lincoln.

  The screams of the Pensatore members grow silent. Soldiers stand like statues, watching me, trying to figure out what I’m doing. I want to scream at them to run. That I can give them time to get out and live. But doubt creeps up, and I don’t know if I can even do that.