by Lili Zander
I stare guiltily at the familiar face on the screen. Silas frowns at me, his gaze entirely too perceptive. Damn it. Video calling is great, except for the times when you don’t want anyone to find out what you’re going through.
It’s the morning after my yelling match with Mateo. Early enough that I’m suspicious. If it’s morning in Germany, it’s the middle of the night in Manhattan. Silas and I talk every day or two, but he’s not in the habit of staying up until three in the morning to talk to me.
Which means…
“Which one of them asked you to call me?”
I’ve apologized to Mateo for my outburst, but I’ve also avoided the guys for the last twenty hours. I spent most of the day yesterday in my room, emerging only for dinner. What can I say? In the last three weeks, I’ve become addicted to spaetzle. Buttery pasta goodness.
“Does it matter?” Silas replies with a shrug. “They’re all worried about you.”
I wince. Great. So the dragons called Silas, and now, he’s concerned too. And given that Daddy Wolf worries like a champion, this isn’t good. “What exactly did they tell you?” I ask warily.
He gives me a level look. “That Mateo doesn’t yet know a way to break the curse without endangering you.” He takes a deep breath. “But he’s smart, and so are the rest of the dragon princes. They’ll figure it out.”
“If they don’t, I’m toast.”
And there’s the rub. I don’t know how I feel about Mateo’s bombshell. There’s a big part of me that’s terrified. I’ve cycled through the entire gamut of emotions—rage, terror, sadness, resignation—and I’ve landed on numb.
One thing I know for sure? Mateo wasn’t lying. I remember the vision that Dream-Maija had shared with me. I cannot force you to do this, old friend, she had said to Halla. It has to be done of your own free will.
At the time, I thought that Maija Essen was asking permission to stick a bit of gemstone in Halla Northridottir’s gut.
Now, I understand the truth. Maija Essen had known she was condemning Halla’s descendant—me—to death.
It is not a gift to see the future. It is a curse.
I can’t even blame Bastian’s mother for what she did. Zyrian’s curse is causing magic to wither and die. Measured against that, what’s the life of one Norm woman worth?
“Aria.” Silas’ voice is firm. “Promise me you won’t do something stupid.”
I make a face. “What do you think I’m going to do? I don’t have a death wish.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Ahem. You conveniently forget the time you stole from the dragon princes.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t remind me of that,” I grumble ruefully. “Those were under very different circumstances, and you know it.”
“Don’t change the topic.”
“I’m not.” I smile at him. “How’s Sarina? I heard that Lukus Hyde is planning on offering you a spot in the pack. Sounds like you guys are getting serious.”
“You just changed the topic again,” Silas notes, shaking his head at me.
“And you’re avoiding talking about Sarina,” I sing-song.
My father looks sheepish. “Fine,” he concedes. “Things are going well.”
“Things are moving fast…”
His expression turns serious. “It’s been a tough year,” he says quietly. “Being sick. Pete dying. You growing up and moving out. I guess it just made me realize that life moves fast. I don’t have a lot of time to waste.”
“Whoa.” I lean forward. “What the hell? I’m not moving out. This Germany thing, it’s temporary. Before you know it, I’ll be back in New York. Someone has to make sure the milk hasn’t expired, after all.”
But though my words are emphatic, I know deep down that things have changed. Permanently. No matter what happens with Zyrian, I’m never again going to live in my Hell’s Kitchen apartment. Those days are behind me.
I’m not a teenager, but this is the first time I’ve really felt like an adult. And I’ll be honest. Growing up sucks.
“That’s true,” Silas agrees, his eyes suspiciously misty. “Expired milk is pretty gross.”
Damn it, Silas. If you start tearing up, I’m going to bawl my eyes out like a baby.
88
Mateo
I’m pouring over a rare alchemy textbook when Aria enters the room. “I’m early for our magic lesson,” she murmurs. “I can find something to do if you’re not ready for me.”
I shut the book and smile at her. “That’s okay. I’m not making much headway.”
We didn’t talk much yesterday. After I’d snapped and told her the truth, she’d asked to be left alone. Her reaction is perfectly understandable, but it hasn’t stopped me from worrying. After dinner last night, we’d called Silas and told him everything, and asked him to check up on her.
Aria must know that we’d never endanger her. Right?
“I’m sorry about yelling at you.”
“You already apologized yesterday,” I say gently. “Aria, it’s fine. We’re all under a lot of pressure.”
She pulls up a chair next to me and laces her fingers in mine. “Yeah, but you didn’t lose your cool, did you? I did.”
“I’m a few years older than you are,” I reply wryly. “I’ve had a lot of practice. I used to be very hot-headed as a teenager.”
Her lip twitches. “I don’t believe you. You’re just making that up to make me feel better.”
“Is it working?” I give her a concerned glance. “How are you feeling? You weren’t in a talkative mood last night.”
She takes a deep breath. “Silas asked me that earlier,” she replies. “To be honest, I just don’t know. Mostly, I’m freaking out.”
“You know that it’s never going to be an option, don’t you?” I demand. “There is never a scenario in which breaking the curse matters more than you. Ever.”
She gives me a small nod. “But what if it’s not within your control?” Her voice is so low that I can barely hear her. “Bastian’s mother, she could see the future. What if she’s already foreseen my death? If this is my destiny, then it really doesn’t matter what we want, does it?”
I shake my head immediately. “That’s not how the future works.” About this, I’m certain. “Every choice you make puts you on a different path. The future is vast and changeable. Your destiny isn’t carved into stone, tesoro. You always have a choice. You control your own fate.”
She looks unconvinced, and I search for the right words. “At best, the Silver Mage could see possibilities,” I explain. “Hints of what might come to pass. When she broke off a piece of the Bloodstone and gave it to her maid, she picked a path that was most likely to end the curse, but that doesn’t mean success is guaranteed.”
My throat tightens. What is success? Breaking the curse isn’t success anymore. If the cost of breaking the curse is Aria’s death, I’m definitely not on board. None of us are.
“How long have you known that I might die? Did everyone but me know?”
“Just Casius,” I reply honestly. “Neither of us wanted to talk about it.” I give her a faint smile. “Saying it out loud might have made it seem real.” I put my arm around her and draw her close.
She’s such a little thing. So fragile, but underneath her softness, there’s a core of steel. It’s always been there. When I first met her, Raedwulf’s minion was threatening her, but she hadn’t flinched. She’d marched into our penthouse without fear, prepared to steal from us. A few days ago, the Bloodstone’s magic almost overwhelmed her, and yet, here she is. Facing everything head on.
“You remember when you told us about your vision?”
Her brows furrow. “Just the gist of it.”
“You were wondering if you were supposed to be a seed. Of course, Casius picked up on that. He took it, like he always does, to the logical next step.”
She looks confused. “Which is what?”
“What happens to a seed when a plant grows?”
Her exp
ression clears. “Ah.”
“Indeed.” I squeeze her shoulder. “Then there was the time when your blood broke the barrier around the Bloodstone. It felt wrong, didn’t it?”
She gives me a sidelong look. “So you caught that.”
My lips twitch. “I might not be in Zyrian’s league, Aria, but I’m not entirely without weapons.”
She looks abashed. “I didn’t want to worry anyone,” she murmurs. “That’s why I didn’t mention it. But yeah, it felt like it was reaching for me, rushing into me, taking over. It was desperate to be free and was doing everything in its power to make that happen…”
“But the magic felt tainted,” I finish her sentence. “Because of what Zyrian did.”
The world desperately needs the magic stored inside the Bloodstone, but it’s cursed. If it breaks free… I shudder away from that thought. Zyrian is powerful enough already. In his hands, the Bloodstone won’t be hope for a better future. It’ll become a weapon, one that will annihilate us all.
She bites her lower lip. “Yesterday, you said the magic needs to be purified through me. How?”
I give her an amused smile. “And that brings us to today’s lesson. Understanding the nature of magic. Welcome to Magic Theory 101.”
She leans forward, a smile curling at her lips. “Okay. I’ll bite, Professor Valentini. Tell me about magic.”
When she calls me Professor with a gleam in her eyes, the last thing I want to do is talk about magic theory. But this is important. “You’ve reached for my magic before,” I tell her. “Why isn’t it tainted?”
She sits up, her eyes wide. “I don’t know,” she says. “Why isn’t it? You were born after the curse.”
“It is tainted,” I respond.
“But that doesn’t make any sense.” She frowns at me. “I’ve used your magic. The stuff inside the Bloodstone felt sinister. It was very different.”
“Let me see if I can explain it.” What is it they say? The only way to find out if you truly know something is to try to teach it to someone else? The truth is, theory isn’t my strong suit. I’m much better doing. “Magic should be effortless. Like jogging on a treadmill.”
She gives me a wry look. “Mateo, I assure you, jogging on a treadmill isn’t effortless. Maybe for dragons, but certainly not for Norms.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough. Stay with me. Using magic should feel like jogging on a treadmill, not running a marathon. I’ve read enough ancient texts. Poured over Maija Essen’s old journals. Read Leopold Kaiser’s accounts of magic. Every single one of those mages seemed to be able to harness more power than I can. Let’s take the Silver Mage, for example. She was powerful enough to preserve her memory in a bubble for five hundred years so that she could talk to you across time. And what can I do? A bit of healing here and there. Parlor tricks compared to the power of the ancients.” I grimace as I admit the truth. “For a while, it gave me quite the complex.”
“But then you realized it’s the curse,” she guesses astutely.
“Exactly. Because of Zyrian’s curse, every time I do magic, part of my energy goes to purifying it. That’s why I can’t do anything as powerful as that of the ancients.”
She looks unconvinced. “I’ve used your magic so many times,” she says. “I’ve never seen a taint.”
“It’s there, tesoro. I assure you.”
I get to my feet and walk to a cabinet in the corner. Aria watches me curiously. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you a demo.” I pull out two clear quartz crystals from a shelf and make my way back to her. “Clear quartz is an amplifier,” I explain. “You’ll be able to see what I’m talking about.” I reach for one of my strands of magic and feed it into the crystal.
Aria leans forward, her attention entirely on the clear rock in front of her. As she stares at it, it slowly changes color, turning golden. It stays translucent for almost a minute before turning grey and cloudy. “That’s it?” she asks skeptically.
I point to the other crystal. “You try it.”
“Okay.” Her eyes go unfocused, and she pours a stream of pure energy into the crystal in front of her. It turns blood red. “What now?”
“Patience, little thief. Watch.”
Seconds tick by. “Nothing’s happening, Mateo,” Aria complains after a couple of minutes. “I’m growing old watching…” Her voice trails off and understanding flashes in her eyes. “Ah. My crystal stayed clear.”
“That’s my girl.”
She wrinkles her nose. “How come I’ve never noticed it before?”
“You didn’t have enough skill to see it. Now you do.”
“Why is that not reassuring?” she says under her breath. She winks at me. “Okay, Professor. After that long detour, let’s get back to my original question. Tell me how to purify magic.”
“Are you questioning my teaching methods?” I trail my fingertip over her lush, lower lip, and her breath catches. “You know what happens to students who do that.”
She raises her eyes and meets my gaze squarely. “Stop distracting me.”
My mouth curves into a reluctant smile. She’s sharp, and she does not miss a trick.
“Watch.” I extend my fingers to talons and slice open my skin. The red droplets rain down on the dull grey stone. Golden strands weave around it, and a couple of seconds later, the crystal is clear once again.
“But you’re not bleeding every time you do magic,” she points out.
“I’m a dragon. Blood, energy, magic, they’re all the same thing.”
“Okay,” she concedes. “But because I’m Norm, I have to bleed on it?”
“You’re more than Norm.” I push another strand of tainted magic into the crystal. “Now you try.”
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a folding knife. I grab it from her before she cuts herself. “Are you nuts?” I demand, plucking a sharp-tipped needle out of thin air and giving it to her. “You just need a drop.”
She laughs. “I love it,” she says in delight. “You should see your face. You’re green, you know? It’s hilarious. Bastian is freaked out by germs, and you’re scared of blood.”
“Depends on whose blood it is.”
Her expression softens. She stabs her fingertip with the needle and holds it over the cloudy crystal. One drop falls on it, and instantly, the crystal becomes clear once again. “That was faster,” she says, her eyes wide. “A lot faster.”
“Untainted magic.”
“Holy shit, Mateo.” She looks overwhelmed for an instant and then pulls herself together. “So to purify the magic in the Bloodstone, I need to bleed on it.”
“That’s the theory,” I reply. “There’s one tiny flaw. There’s more magic than blood.”
“That sucks ass.” I can see her mind working. She’s breaking down the problem, searching for a solution. “Can we pull the magic out a little at a time? Kinda a controlled release?”
“What do you think? Can you control the magic inside the stone?”
She shakes her head ruefully. “No,” she admits. “I’ll get overwhelmed. It was just too powerful. I won’t be able to control it. It’ll break free.” She sighs heavily and fingers the gemstone at her throat. “You know what’s weird? The Bloodstone itself feels friendly, not evil.”
“I don’t understand that either,” I confess. “Another mystery to add to the list.”
Her gaze returns to my face. “What are we going to do about the curse, Mateo?” she asks directly.
I pick up the alchemy textbook. “I’m looking for a way to amplify the effects of your blood,” I reply. “I took a sample of it when you bled on the gemstone.”
“You did?” she cuts in. “I didn’t notice.”
“You weren’t supposed to, tesoro.” I brush my lips against hers. “I didn’t want to alarm anyone. Not until I had a solution.”
She kisses me back. “You should involve us,” she chides gently. “We could help you.”
“You’re right. You’re not t
he only one that struggles with admitting you need help.”
Her lips tilt up. “Touché. So you’re trying to duplicate my blood?”
“With no success,” I reply. “But I’m going to keep trying. Casius knows more about alchemy than I do. Now that everything’s out in the open, he’ll help, as will the others. Bastian and Rhys have friends in the magical community. We will figure it out.”
Her eyes drop to her lap. “How can you be sure there’s an answer that doesn’t involve my death?”
I put my finger on her chin and tilt her face up. “Here’s the truth. Nobody knows what lay in the Silver Mage’s heart.”
“Very reassuring,” she quips.
“But,” I continue, “After all this time, Bastian has finally found his mate. I cannot believe that Bastian’s mother would engineer a future that involves him losing you. I cannot believe that she would condemn him to such a fate.”
She stays silent for a long time. Finally, she forces a cheerful smile on her face. “Let me see if I’ve got the plan straight. Step 1. We figure out how to amplify my blood. Step 2: We safely free and purify the magic in the Bloodstone.”
I nod grimly. “Step 3: We storm Zyrian’s castle. The Dark Dragon has lived long enough. It’s time for him to die.”
89
Aria
After all this time, Bastian has finally found his mate. I cannot believe that Bastian’s mother would engineer a future that involves him losing you. I cannot believe that she would condemn him to such a fate.
I’d kept silent when Mateo had said those words to me.
I hope he’s right. I really do. But he wasn’t in the vision with me. He hadn’t seen the tears roll down Maija Essen’s face. He hadn’t seen her air of hopeless despair.
Sometimes, seeing the future means you have to make hard choices. Brutally hard choices.
I make my way to Erik’s bedroom. He’s still not conscious. Mateo has assured me that Erik’s on the mend, but I just wish he’d open his eyes. I could use Erik’s particular brand of tough love right now. Enough, princess, he’d probably say to me. Stop pouting.
