The Vine Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 2)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  When Zeisha and Ovrun joined her, they all walked to the icehouse. Nora put her key in the lock.

  It didn’t turn. Her father had changed the locks. Dani, now mind controlled, had probably told him about Nora and Krey’s nighttime visit before the militia battle.

  Nora cursed again.

  Krey swallowed the vomit pressing at his throat. When he was eight, he’d held onto two minds only once. He’d needed to convince both his parents that he should get an extra slice of pie. That had been difficult, and he’d only done it for a couple of minutes.

  How much longer can I handle this? I’m burning fuel too quickly. By the orange sky above, how long does it take to tie a pair of shoes?

  Krey knew what he had to do; he just didn’t want to. Brea had helped him get here, albeit unwillingly. She seemed so kind, someone he’d love to chat with about feather magic. And this was how he’d pay her back?

  Ulmin stood, shoes tied.

  If I can just hang onto two minds for a few more minutes.

  Krey’s roiling stomach told him that was too much to ask.

  “Ulmin, don’t move. Brea, please come sit on the floor next to me.”

  She sat, relaxed, as he instructed her to drink the drugged liquor. When his connection with her broke, his entire body seemed to sigh in relief. Just one mind to control. He could do this. Brea’s eyes fluttered shut, and Krey laid her on the floor. No need to tie her up. He’d be out of here soon, flying away with the king.

  “We’re going to walk to the front door of the residence,” Krey said. “You’ll go in front of me. If we encounter any conscious guards, tell them I’m a houseguest and that we’re going outside for some air. Got it?”

  The king nodded.

  Krey grabbed Ulmin’s arm. They walked into the sitting room. Again, the scent of brain matter wafted into Krey’s nose, making his mouth water. I could make him tell me where it is. I could refuel.

  Just as he was about to obey that instinct, Zeisha’s face popped into his mind. You don’t have time, he imagined her whispering. Those guards may be waking up right now. Somehow, despite his craving, he listened.

  “Run,” Krey instructed. He held the king’s arm as they jogged through the hallway and into the dark living room where Krey had left the two guards from the king’s bedroom. They were halfway through the big room when Krey’s knee slammed into the corner of a low table.

  In a moment, everything fell apart.

  With both hands, Krey grabbed his bruised knee. Ulmin kept running. In the moment it took Krey to realize he’d let go of his prey, the king disappeared into the darkness. Krey’s connection with the man’s mind snapped like a dry twig.

  “What is happening?” Ulmin roared.

  The room’s electric lights came on. A guard, standing in the room’s entrance, shouted, “Your Majesty! I found unconscious guards in the—who is this?”

  Krey fixed his gaze on the king, who had dashed across the room. He tried to reestablish his hold over the man’s mind, but his magic sparked on and off. He’d burned through nearly all his fuel in the panic and pain after his collision with the table.

  Fury searing his mind, Krey floundered, trying to grasp the threads of his magic. The effort was pointless. His remaining fuel dissipated as soon as he tried to use it. Running was his only hope now. He pivoted, prepared to flee.

  His path was blocked by yet another guard, a massive man who looked like he spent half the day working out and the other half eating raw meat. Krey tried to run past him. The guard leapt, tackling him to the floor.

  Krey’s breath exited his chest, along with his hope. Strong, quick hands flipped him on his belly and grabbed his arms, wrenching them behind him. Knees dug into his back. Gasping to regain his breath, Krey bucked and squirmed. His captor was too strong.

  Then it hit him. He had fuel of another sort.

  He lifted off the ground. The guard on his back cried out and tumbled off.

  Krey bounced off the ceiling. His eyes found the king. Ulmin was pulling something from a box on an end table. Dread washed over Krey as he caught a glimpse of indigo, right before it entered the king’s mouth.

  The guard who’d tackled Krey recovered. He jumped up and snagged Krey’s foot. Krey incorporated the man into his magic, pulling him off the ground.

  “Catch him, but don’t shoot him!” the king cried.

  Krey flew toward the room’s exit, shaking his leg. The guard held on fast.

  Still kicking, Krey dropped low enough to go through the doorway. Halfway through, a handgun flew through the air and slammed into his forehead, breaking his focus. He dropped like a stone, landing hard on his hands and knees, right next to the gun. Krey reached for it. The guard was faster.

  Krey scrambled to reactivate his flight magic. But too much was happening. A guard pinned him down again. His body cried out in pain. His talent wouldn’t respond. Come on, come on, come on!

  Two pajama-clad knees knelt in front of Krey.

  A hand gripped his cheeks.

  His mind went blank.

  19

  I went to a fire illusionist show last week. It was the most fun I’ve had in months—thousands of audience members, most of them around my age, watching someone play with fire.

  I believe such shows are popular because our world is so safe. Hemmed in by precautions and certainty, we crave wildness. And what is wilder than fire?

  -“On Fire” by Genta Ril

  The Derogan Chronicle, dated Quari 32, 6293

  Nora held her breath.

  Zeisha was trying to slip a skinny vine between a window and its frame. Unfortunately, she was working in the dark. She’s good, but is she this good?

  “I got the vine in,” Zeisha breathed.

  “The latch should be right there,” Nora said. “Catch it with the vine and pull it to the right.” She’d already told Zeisha that, but she couldn’t handle just standing here, waiting.

  “I can’t seem to grab it.” Zeisha grunted as she kept trying.

  Nora suppressed a frustrated moan.

  “Got it!” Ovrun said, from a nearby window. He was trying the same thing, but with a knife.

  Nora and Zeisha rushed up to him, greeted by the delightful, awful sound of a squeaky window opening. Ovrun boosted Zeisha through the window. He couldn’t fit, so he and Nora rushed to the icehouse door. Seconds later, Zeisha opened it from the inside. Nora shoved a handful of ice into her mouth and grabbed two more handfuls to eat on the go. They all ran into Nora’s bedroom.

  A shout rang out from somewhere in the house. Nora sprinted through her dark bedroom and sitting room. A smidge of light glowed underneath the door that led to the hallway. She swallowed a mouthful of ice, then dropped the rest and opened the door carefully.

  The light was coming from the living room at the end of the long hallway. “Wait here,” Nora told Ovrun and Zeisha.

  She continued alone. As she passed Dani’s door, her body ached with the desire to grab her aunt and flee. But based on the shouting she’d heard, she guessed Krey was in immediate danger. One thing at a time.

  At the end of the corridor, Nora peeked into the living room. Oh no. No, no, no.

  Just inside the far doorway, Krey had been pinned down by a huge royal guard. Nora’s father, clad in pajamas, was kneeling, touching Krey. Another guard stood nearby. Two unconscious guards were tied to chairs along one wall.

  As Nora scurried back to Ovrun and Zeisha, she called Taima to circle high above the palace. Then, panting, she whispered to her friends, “If you hear a really loud noise, it’s Taima. That’s when I’ll need you to come help.”

  “Do you want us to get your aunt?” Ovrun asked.

  Yes! Nora’s heart cried. But a deeper urge made her hesitate. Her father was awake. At any time, he could take control of Dani’s mind. Then there would be one more person working against them.

  “No,” Nora said. “We’ll come for her later.” It was a promise—to her friends, her aunt, and herself.


  Without waiting for more questions, Nora returned to the end of the corridor. Krey was on a couch. The king sat in front of him in a chair, talking softly. The two guards watched from a few mets away. It had been perhaps a minute since the king had touched Krey. How many secrets could her father have learned in that time?

  Krey spoke, his voice louder than Ulmin’s. “Nora is healthy,” he said flatly. “She’s been hiding with me and—”

  “Dad!” Nora interrupted, stepping into the room.

  Both guards jerked to attention, pointing handguns at her.

  Her father stood, telling the guards, “Guns down. You will not touch her unless I instruct otherwise.”

  The guards returned to their previous stances—relaxed yet ready for anything. Her father was controlling them even now; she was sure of it.

  King Ulmin Abrios turned toward his daughter. The coldness of habitual authority fled his eyes. They crinkled at the edges as his mouth curved into the smile Nora had grown up with—the one that told her he cherished her. “Come in, darling,” he said.

  Darling. The guards didn’t need to shoot—that word was a bullet. “I won’t let you touch me,” she murmured.

  He closed his eyes briefly, and when they opened again, she saw pain in them. He sat. “I don’t want to control you.”

  His voice was gentle, but Nora took note of his words. He didn’t want to control her. But he hadn’t promised he wouldn’t.

  She entered and stood behind the velvet couch where Krey sat. Expensive furniture wasn’t much protection against her father or the guards, but it was something.

  She gazed at her father. He looked different. It seemed his wrinkles and gray hairs had multiplied. Is the stress of driving his country into the ground getting to him? Nora pushed away the sarcastic thought and gave him a small, sad smile. “Can we talk, Dad?”

  “I’d like nothing more.”

  Taima’s voice entered Nora’s mind. I am high above the palace. Out of weapons range.

  “What would you like to discuss?” Ulmin asked.

  “Give me a minute, Dad. This is a lot to take in.”

  He nodded.

  Nora told Taima her plan, instructing the dragon not to act yet. This was her chance to remind her father of the man he used to be. She turned back to him. “Dad . . .” She licked her lips, unsure what to say. If she pressed too hard, he might not talk at all. She settled on, “How does it feel, controlling people?”

  His brows rose a bit. “It feels wonderful. But that’s not why I do it.”

  “Then why?”

  “Left alone, people make poor choices. They’re selfish. Proud. Violent.”

  He’d saved violent for last, but something told Nora it was really first on the list. Maybe it was the only thing on the list. A violent woman had killed the queen ten years ago. Her father had been desperately trying to protect himself, his family, and his kingdom ever since.

  “But right now,” Nora said, “you’re the violent one. You formed a militia of mind slaves. When that didn’t work, your army attacked New Therro. This isn’t you, Dad. Or at least it doesn’t have to be.”

  “My goal is peace.” Ulmin spread his arms wide, the picture of a benevolent leader. His gaze begged her to understand. “New Therro was full of angry terrorists. Now that I’ve subdued them, our nation is safer.”

  “Dad, you took away their rights. You forced their men into your army. Is safety worth it if your people lose their freedom along the way?”

  His head tilted a bit, and she thought he was finally seeing her—as she was, not as the little girl he remembered. After several seconds, the softness in his eyes turned to steel. “Anything worthwhile comes with a cost. Darling.”

  There was something foreboding about the way he said it. About his sudden tension, like he was getting ready to leap out of his seat and touch her. Control her.

  For your own good, he’d say. To keep you safe, he’d say.

  She should give Taima the signal. But she needed just a little more time. “How do you control so many people? How did you share your magic with . . . with Faylie?”

  “I’m sorry, Nora. Some secrets are too dangerous to share.”

  One final plea. The words hitched in her tight throat. “Dad, just tell me you’ll stop it. All the mind control and the attacks. Let Krey go. Give your guards their minds back. Do it now, Dad, and I’ll come live at home. I swear to you, I’ll never leave again. I’ll help you heal. Please. Tell me you’ll stop.”

  The emotion of her words hit him; she could see it. His brows furrowed, and he pressed his lips together. Oh, thank the stone, he was considering it.

  After a long moment, his mouth curved into a sad smile. “If it were just you, sweetheart, I would. But I must stand up for my kingdom. Even if it means standing against you.”

  Nora’s stomach clenched. The hope she’d arrived with—that her father would become her ally, not her enemy—dissolved. He might still choose to change. But not today.

  Nora sent a message to Taima: Now!

  Too late. Her father was done talking. She braced for him to attack her.

  He sent Krey instead.

  Nora’s friend, who’d thrown snowballs at her and teased her and comforted her, stood and turned, fixing cold eyes on her.

  She pivoted and ran. A scream pushed its way through her lips. She dashed toward the dark hallway. Hers were the only footsteps. Maybe Krey wasn’t chasing her; maybe he’d resisted the king’s control—

  Just before she reached the corridor, something slammed her into the floor. There had been no footsteps because Krey hadn’t run—he’d flown.

  Nora struggled against him. They were the same height, but Krey was more muscular. She twisted, struck him with her elbows, kicked her legs back. Other than soft grunts, he didn’t react.

  Then she heard the footsteps she’d expected before. Somehow she knew it was her father, even before he knelt in front of her. He would take her mind while she was pinned down. Just like he’d done to Krey.

  “Sweetheart,” he said again. He reached out a hand.

  Behind him, fire exploded through the ceiling—just where Nora had told Taima to aim. East of the big skylight, where nobody in the room was standing. Wood and plaster fell less than a met from Nora. Heat flooded the room. The king scrambled to his feet, leaving Nora untouched. “Get her away from here!”

  Though Nora had expected Taima’s attack, its violence broke her focus. By the time she remembered she was supposed to be fighting, Krey was pulling her to her feet.

  The fire spread quickly on the lush carpet. Ulmin ran along the room’s perimeter toward his mind-controlled guards. Krey followed, yanking Nora by the arm.

  “Get us to safety!” Ulmin commanded the guards.

  Nora willingly ran with Krey for a short distance, having no desire to be charbroiled. When they were past the worst of the danger, she planted her feet and began struggling again. She catalyzed her fuel, shooting hard balls of ice at Krey. His grip remained firm.

  “Get her over here!” the king yelled.

  The huge guard ran toward Nora and Krey. Nora froze, squeezing her eyes shut, anticipating the man’s crushing hands.

  Instead, she heard shouts and grunts. She opened her eyes to find Ovrun on top of the man, fighting him with frightening ferocity. Just as Ovrun landed a knockout punch, Krey’s grip on Nora loosened. Yanking her arm away, she saw why. Zeisha’s vine was wrapped around his waist, and she was pulling him back.

  Her friends had come through.

  At the doorway into the foyer, Ulmin turned, shouting, “Do you have—?”A vine, shot by Zeisha’s other hand, captured his neck, cutting off his speech.

  Next to Ulmin, the other guard lifted his gun.

  Oh no, you don’t. As Ovrun charged the man, Nora shot one ice ball after another, hitting the guard’s torso, head, and arm. He got off a shot, but it went wide. Ovrun took him down.

  Gasping frantically, Nora surveyed the scene. Tw
o guards were still tied to chairs. One now struggled against his bonds. Ovrun had rendered both the other guards unconscious. Face twisted in a grimace, Zeisha held vines taut around Krey’s waist and the king’s neck. Both of them tried to pry off the plants.

  “Zeisha!” Nora shouted. “A soon as my father passes out, let go of his neck!”

  Ulmin continued to pull at the tightly coiled vine. His face turned deep purple, and at last, he collapsed, his eyes rolling back.

  “Zeisha!” Krey shouted. “Are you okay?”

  Zeisha released both vines and ran to him, falling in his arms.

  Dani! Nora could get her now. The king couldn’t control her when he was unconscious. She turned toward the hallway.

  Dani was already in the corridor, mouth agape. “Nora!” she cried.

  She was only a few mets away. But the carpet between them blazed with dragon fire. Hot fingers of flames taunted Nora.

  There was no way to get to her aunt.

  “Dani!” After crying her aunt’s name, Nora drew in a lungful of smoke. She bent over, coughing.

  “Go!” Dani shouted. “Be safe!” She turned and ran down the hall, away from the thick smoke.

  “Wait!” Coughing overtook Nora again. She got past it and shouted, “Meet us . . . in front!” The roaring fire devoured her message. Dani was gone.

  Taima’s voice entered Nora’s mind. The guards see me on the roof! They are running this way. We must go!

  We’ll have to leave through the front gate! Nora replied. Can you meet us outside? Keep the guards away until we get out there?

  I shall try.

  “Let’s go! Front door!” Nora called between coughs. “Drag the guards and my father . . . out of here. I don’t want them to get burned!”

  Before long, they were in the foyer, which was getting smoky too. Ovrun had pulled out the chairs holding two tied-up guards. Both were now conscious and loudly demanding to know what was going on. Ovrun tried to calm them.