by D. G. Swank
Donall removed the lid and set it aside, then reverently picked up the book and lowered it onto the table in front of me. Once again, I was horrified to see the blood-soaked pages, the evidence of my sisters’ suffering, but I also noticed fresher stains…my blood.
“Try to open the book,” he said.
I considered refusing, but he could open it with or without my help. Choose my battles. Besides, I was genuinely curious.
I reached for the edge of the book, gasping when the cover easily lifted to reveal the title page—Book of Sindal. I knew the cover page had been added after the fact. The original text had been stolen away in the dead of night, rescued from Marij Clais’s belongings before they could be destroyed with her. Her work had been sent across the sea from Denmark to England, then on to the United States. Now that I thought about it, the book had a long history of being covertly moved around.
I started to turn the page, but then I saw the note written on the inside cover of the book.
Only one can truly read the spells. Only one can unleash hell on earth. My daughter Rowan.
My chest constricted, and my head grew fuzzy. Why would my mother write something like that about me? I was the least magically equipped of my sisters.
“Read the first spell,” Donall said. “Turn the page.”
Again, I considered fighting him, but I was exhausted, and this was a battle of wills I was certain to lose. I turned the page and looked at the spell.
“Read it aloud,” Donall said.
I ignored the hopeful tone in his voice.
“Flamingos Candelabra,” I said, reading the title. It sounded like gibberish to me, and so did the text of the spell, but I read it aloud anyway.
“Read it the right way,” Donall said, sounding pissed. He wrapped his hand around my shoulder and squeezed it like a vise. “You’re reading it the way the rest of us do.”
Fresh pain shot through my head, and I closed my eyes against a rush of dizziness. “Give me a second. I’m still recovering from a head injury.”
“If this is a trick…” he said in a low snarl.
“It’s not,” I said with my eyes still closed. “I feel like I’m about to barf again. Give me a moment.”
I was surprised when Donall said, “Get something for her to be sick in, and get someone to clean up this mess.” He paused, then added, “Bring Lisa.”
The hinges on the door squeaked as it opened and closed. A minute later, I heard it open again.
“She is being cooperative, but her lingering injuries are making her task difficult,” Donall said. “Do what you can to heal her.”
“Completely?” I heard Lisa ask in surprise.
A hand grasped my shoulder again, squeezing to the point of pain. “Yes. Let’s not give her an excuse to fail at her task.”
“Yes, your lordship.”
If my head hadn’t hurt so badly, I would have laughed at his title, but it was probably for the best that I didn’t feel up to it. For a man who wanted to be called “lordship,” he had an awfully sensitive ego.
I felt gentle fingers slip into my hair and begin to massage. Heat flowed through the tips of Lisa’s fingers, sinking into my scalp and down into my head. The pain began to ebb, and my thoughts became clearer as the room stopped spinning. A contented sigh escaped my lips as a peace I hadn’t felt since I was a child washed over me.
“I think that’s better,” Lisa said, removing her hands from my head.
I gingerly opened my eyes, relieved that the pain was gone.
“Drink this,” Donall said, holding out a cup.
“What’s in it?” I asked, refusing to take it.
“Water,” Donall snapped, slamming it down on the table next to the book. Water droplets sloshed out and some landed on the pages. The book sucked the water in as though it were a sponge, but the page remained dry.
“Read the spell,” Donall barked, then waved for Lisa to leave the room.
She gave me a worried look as one of the guards grabbed her arm and dragged her out.
Picking up the cup, I took a slow sip and studied the page. It looked exactly as it had before, which wasn’t what Donall wanted to hear.
“I’ve cured you, Rowan. Don’t abuse my kindness.”
“Kindness?” I mouthed off before I could stop myself. “You’re the one who hurt me in the first place.”
“You drove me to it,” Donall barked. “If you would only do as you were told.”
I shot him a glare. “You realize that’s what all abusers say, don’t you? They blame the victim.”
I wasn’t surprised when he hit me again, or the next time. But I was shocked the abuse lasted for so long, especially since he wanted something from me. No wonder he valued Lisa—having the assistance of someone who could magically heal allowed him to treat his prisoners as poorly as he’d like.
“Take her to the hole,” Donall shouted. “Let’s see if it fixes that mouth of hers.”
The guards picked me up off the floor and half-dragged me down the hall. I wondered how I’d climb all those stairs in my condition, but it turned out not to be an issue. The guards tossed me into a dark room and slammed the door shut. The room was freezing, and I crawled around the concrete floor, feeling for any furniture and finding none. They’d tossed me into what I presumed was an empty four-foot-by-three-foot closet with nothing in it. I huddled into a corner on the damp floor, tears streaming down my face from pain, and prayed that the end would come quickly, even though I knew Donall’s abuse had likely just begun.
Chapter Nine
I lost track of time, and when the guards opened the door again, I wasn’t sure if I’d been in the hole for hours or days. Exhaustion and pain had dunked me in and out of consciousness. I hurt all over, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, which were so cold I couldn’t feel them anymore.
I blinked when the door opened, the guards partially blocking the light when they reached in to haul me to my feet.
I cried out in pain, struggling to walk, but there was no need. The guards half-dragged me into a new room, this one larger than the one where Donall had tortured me. The room was as cold as a walk-in refrigerator, and empty but for a long table with something bulky stretched out over its surface, covered in a sheet.
Oh gods. Was it a body?
Was it Logan?
The guards tossed me to the floor. I struggled to sit up, but my body was shaking uncontrollably.
The door opened again and Donall strode in with an expressionless face. He squatted in front of me and looked me over, sadness filling his eyes. “It gives me no pleasure to see you this way, Rowan.”
“It sure gave you pleasure getting me into this position,” I countered, but my teeth were chattering so much it was hard to make out the words.
“Only because you forced me,” he said, sounding sad again. “It has occurred to me that perhaps I’ve handled this poorly.”
“You think?” I shot back.
“Rowan,” he said with forced patience. “I’m trying to extend an olive branch.”
“Forgive and forget?” I said with a laugh, but it fell short.
He didn’t respond, just rose to his full height and then reached down and lifted me to a standing position. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“To read that stupid book,” I said, recoiling from his touch.
“That too, but there are other reasons.” He took his arm away and watched me for several seconds, his expression solicitous—like he was trying to make sure I didn’t fall over—before he made his way over to the sheet-draped figure. He pulled the sheet down to reveal the bloody body of the mage we’d buried. “Lester took something of mine, Rowan, and I need it back.”
“The sphere,” I said.
“It wasn’t his to take, the stupid fool. You girls did me a favor by killing him, because I certainly would have done so myself. Unfortunately, Lester consumed the sphere before he died.” Donall lowered the sheet even more, and sure enough, a b
lue light shone through his chest.
“Can’t you cut it out of him?”
“We’ve tried,” Donall said, then pointed to Lester’s chest. “See?” Sure enough, there was a long, bloodless gash over the blue light. “It’s latched on to him.”
I decided to be honest. Might as well kick off this whole torture session now rather than wait. “Do you think I’m going to help you figure out how to get it unattached? I don’t have the first clue. And even if I did, do you think I’d help a psychopath get control of it?”
To my surprise, he didn’t get angry, just watched me with pity in his eyes. “You and I are more alike than you think, Rowan.”
“I am nothing like you.”
He walked around the foot of the table, heading back toward me, and I straightened my back as best I could.
“My sweet Rowan,” he said gently, lifting a hand to my bruised cheek. “We are so much alike. We are both eldest children with more remarkable siblings. Our parents found our magic lacking.”
“You don’t know that,” I spat out, anger burning my veins. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know your mother considered you a disappointment.”
I shook my head, my tears betraying me. “That’s not true.”
“But it is,” Donall whispered. “You were never enough for her, Rowan. You were never enough for the Whelan name. Your sisters outshone you in everything, and the Small Council bought it hook, line, and sinker. When they split your coven apart, they didn’t even bother to put a guard on you. They figured what harm could you be?”
Tears rolled down my face, but I refused to sob. I refused to break.
“My mother hated me too, Rowan. And she hated my father, just like your mother hated yours.” He tilted my face up so he could look deep into my eyes. Deep into my soul. “Our fathers couldn’t help their weakness any more than we can help ours. Are we less worthy of our mothers’ love? Did they not create us too?”
I didn’t answer, but his words were sinking into my marrow.
“You don’t understand the Dark Set, my sweet Rowan. You don’t understand that it sees potential where others find only flaws. Wouldn’t you love to be an equal to your sisters?”
“That’s not possible,” I said. “I’m not.”
“But you could be,” he said softly with a bit of promise. “The power sphere gives us that chance. Why should some witches—and mages—have more power than the rest? Do I deserve any less? Do you? I only wish to even the playing field.”
To my addled brain, part of what he said made sense, which had me near hysteria. How badly was I injured? “You don’t want to be my equal, Donall,” I said, my teeth still chattering. “You want to be my lord.”
“No, Rowan. I want to free you from your bondage to weakness. I want you to be strong.”
“But not as strong as you.”
A soft grin lit up his face. “There must be a king, but if you help me, I will share great power with you. I will make you so strong that your sisters bow to you.”
I shook my head, taking a step backward. “I don’t want my sisters to bow to me.”
“But there’s no denying you want to be their equal.” He didn’t wait for me to respond. He didn’t have to. We both knew it was true. “The sphere is of the book, which means the answer to freeing it lies within the book. I want you to try to read it again. The book says you can do it.”
I shook my head. “I couldn’t read the second layer last time. I tried.”
“Try again, my love,” he cooed. “And I will make you equal to your sisters.”
“By taking their power?”
“What kind of sisters are they if they wouldn’t willingly share?”
He was twisting words again and making them believable. “You would take Brandon’s?”
“Yes,” he said without a hint of regret. “But if the roles were reversed, I would do the same for him, and you would share with your sisters.” He dropped his hold on me. “We are not the only magicals who are seen as less-thans. Think of the others’ pain and torment. Their humiliation. We could help them too, Rowan.”
I shook my head and fell to my knees, unable to support my weight. “You lie. You’re the king of lies, Donall. My mother believed in me,” I whispered. “She said I was the only one who could read the book.”
Donall dropped down next to me, stroking my hair. “Sweet Rowan, are you so desperate for your mother’s love that you can’t see the truth?”
I stared up at him, wanting to burn him with my white-hot anger. “You told me what she said, Donall. You showed me the page!”
He turned to the door and called out, “Bring the book.”
Seconds later, the door opened and a guard appeared with the ornate box. Donall took it and set it on the floor, carefully taking off the lid.
“Open it to the note,” Donall said tenderly. “Read it for me.”
I opened the cover and read the note out loud. “Only one can truly read the spells. Only one can unleash hell on earth. My daughter Rowan.”
“Do you not see the truth?” Donall cooed. “Are you still so willfully blind?”
As he asked the question, the truth slammed into me.
“I never said who wrote the inscription. Those words were not written by your mother, dear girl. Your mother never believed in you.”
I started to cry harder.
“They were written by your father. He’s the only one who ever believed in you.”
“No.”
“I know how hard it is to face the truth,” Donall said. “I know how hard it is to accept your mother’s disgust.”
I shook my head. “No. There was no disgust. My mother loved me.”
“But she loved your sisters more. She spent many more hours with them, working to perfect their magic, than she did with you.”
It was true, there was no denying it, but I was still confused by how he’d come by this information. Had he stolen it all from my head?
“How do I know?” he asked. “Because I told you, Rowan. I’m just like you.”
He placed a kiss on my forehead, then stood. “Guards, take her to a room. Get her some food and send Lisa to make her comfortable.” He turned back to face me. “The next time we meet will be as equals. Together, we’ll get the respect we deserve.”
Chapter Ten
The guards brought me upstairs to a new room, one with a comfortable bed and blankets. Lisa sent me to the attached bathroom to take a shower, and I spent half an hour getting warm. There were warmed pajamas waiting on the bed when I came out, along with a heaping plate of homemade macaroni and cheese, an old favorite from when I was a kid. My father used to make it for me as a special treat, and when I got older, we’d make it together. Those cooking sessions had helped me feel closer to my dad, and memories of our collaborations in the kitchen had inspired me to start my web series.
I felt a throb of grief. It was so unfair that we’d lost him days after our mother’s accident. I still didn’t understand it.
The food was another manipulation. I couldn’t let myself forget what was going on here. Donall had picked out bits and pieces of my life on his field trip inside my head. That’s how he’d known about the mac and cheese, about my mother spending more time with my sisters, and everything else. I couldn’t let Donall trick me into giving him what he wanted, yet it still bugged the shit out of me that some of the things he was saying felt so right.
After I got dressed and ate a few bites of mac and cheese, Lisa came in to heal me again. Her touch took away the pain, leaving me with that warm peaceful feeling she’d given me before. She tucked me into bed, then leaned into my ear and said, “I hear you have the gift of glamour.”
My eyes flew wide.
“I do,” I whispered back.
“I will be back in two hours, and I will need you to glamour both of us. Can you do that?”
Was she helping me escape? I’d wondered if she was here willingly, but every moment we sp
ent together made me more convinced she wasn’t. She was too kind and nurturing to be on Team Psychopath. “Yes. I’ll be ready.”
She stood and gave me a smile. “Good night, Rowan.” Then she closed the door behind her.
“Good night.”
I tried to stay awake, but the past two days had taken their toll, so I was sound asleep when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Gasping, I jerked upright, nearly screaming when I discovered Lisa leaning over me.
She covered my mouth, her eyes wide with fear. “Shh! If we get caught, he’ll kill us both.”
I nodded, then pushed her hand away. “Sorry.”
“Quick,” she said. “Shape your covers so it looks like you’re sleeping.”
Good thinking on her part. That would buy us more time to get away, but I could do something even better. I glamoured the bed to look like I was still lying there.
“How long will that last?” she whispered.
“Several hours. We’re good.”
She nodded. “Now glamour us. Make sure no one can see us.”
Taking Lisa’s hand in mine, I covered us both with my magic, making us reflect our surroundings. We were essentially invisible, although I could see her as long as I hung on to her. She slowly opened my door, glanced into the hall, then leaned back toward me. “No talking from here on out.”
I started to agree, but she was already moving out the door. I followed, softly closing the door behind me.
We silently moved down the hall and entered the stairwell. To my surprise, Lisa only descended one floor before reaching for the door. I balked. This was the second floor and likely didn’t have an exit, but she was already dragging me out into the hall. After a few steps, she pulled me into the shadows of the recessed wall.
Where in the seven hells was Lisa taking me? Why had I thought it was a good idea to blindly follow her? Was it foolish of me to trust her?
I leaned over to see around the corner, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw the guard standing outside a door halfway down the hall.
