Magic Captive: A Supernatural Academy Romance (The Velkin Royal Academy Series Book 2)

by Emmeline Winter

  “Where is Anatole?”

  “Fighting somewhere else, I expect.” In some sort of feat of magical mimicry, he adopted Anatole’s voice when he said, “Defending against my imaginary armies.”

  Disappointment shot through my gut. Not only was I alone, but there was the other revelation, too. That Adric didn’t even have any soldiers. He didn’t have an army. That’s why the castle was so quiet. Everything attacking us was just made of light and magic. A trick. A deadly one, at that.

  “He isn’t here,” I repeated, more a sigh than a declaration.

  Adric almost closed the space between us, but stopped short when he caught sight of the Magic-Killer in my hands.

  “No, little human. It seems that you’ve fallen right into my trap.”

  All around us, I felt the invisible hum of magic. This was the epicenter of it, the place where all of the spells and enchantments Adric had cast began and met up again. I searched his face, looking for any hint of what I could do to change this. To stop him.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “The magic…the power…Your tiny little mind could never comprehend how this feels, how it consumes you. I will be king. Now and forever. And death to anyone who defies my rule. Beginning with you.”

  I spoke again before I could think better of it.

  “You are going to break your mother’s heart.”

  For the first time, Adric’s carefully composed expression slipped. So, too, did the magic all around us. I took note of that. It felt like a small victory, one that maybe I could manipulate into a larger one.

  “She doesn’t…She doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “What you’re talking about?” I took a step closer to Adric, refusing to let up now. “How the magic feels? How it consumes you? That’s just exactly how love feels. And she does still love you. Doing this will only break her heart. It will destroy her.”

  He held out a hand, but no spell hit me in the chest. His face flashed with fury. And sadness. “Stop this.”

  “You love her, don’t you? And your brothers, too? And the people of Velkin.”

  “I order you to stop.”

  But he was so frantic now, and the magic around us so weak, that I knew stopping would be the wrong thing to do. Maybe he would kill me. Maybe this would be the end of Carolyn Conners. But if it saved all of these people, then it would be worth it.

  “This evil magic has corrupted you, but down below, the real Adric is still in there, isn’t he? Fighting to be free.”

  His knees buckled. “I beg you—”

  “No. Admit it. Even just to yourself.”

  It was then that I noticed Adric’s wide, wildly blinking eyes were no longer focused on me. They were focused on something just over my right shoulder, hovering there with something like shock, awe, horror, and heartbreak. I didn’t realize it was possible to combine such disparate parts into a single look, but somehow, he managed it, and the force of that stare made it impossible to keep myself from turning around and seeing what exactly it was that he saw.

  There, in the rubble beyond, stood Queen Freia and the King. The real, true King. Not the man play-acting in a crown standing before me. At first, I thought that they were really there, but in a moment, the seams of the illusion became clear, and I realized it was just like when Queen Freia appeared in my cell. A projection.

  Still, the effect was the same. When I turned back to Adric, it was as if I was looking at two people super-imposed onto each other—one calm and in control, devious and cruel; the other a frightened, scared little boy who wanted nothing more than to chase the image of the people he loved and beg them to chase away the shadows out from under his bed.

  And then, something strange happened. Something I couldn’t have expected. Despite the fact that I once again lifted the Magic-Killer, ready to fight Adric if it was necessary and hating that it might come to that, the edges of my vision started to curl, to flicker, to warble like the heat waves on a particularly sunny day. It was the same visual sensation that occurred whenever Queen Freia pulled her visual tricks.

  It was the disintegration of magic. The failing of it. And as I stared and watched as Adric fought a war against himself, against the twin magics living inside him—one good, one unspeakably evil—I was seeing that failing in action.

  All at once, the flames in every torch exploded and the haze of magical spells dominated my vision, explosions after explosion, earthquake after earthquake, lighting storm after lightning storm centralized in this one Great Hall, as if all of the magic were being ripped from Adric and used up all in the effort.

  I shielded my face and braced myself against the nearest piece of jagged stone, thinking only one, dominating thought: please, please…let me live. I need to see Anatole again.

  My ears thrummed in my skull at the painful yelp walls crumbling; my lungs struggled against the smoke filling the air. But I held onto that thought. I need to see Anatole again.

  And then…it was over. Done. And when I opened my eyes once again, Adric was on the floor, a tall, tired heap amongst the debris. After a moment, when I was sure it wasn’t a trick, I carefully picked my way through the debris, sword still raised, until I was standing over him.

  I stared for a long, uncertain moment. Conflict rose up within me. Adric had done horrible, horrible things. But Adric had also freed himself from them.

  And now, his life was in my hands.

  Chapter Twelve

  Anatole

  When the smoke finally cleared and the air was once again breathable and transparent, two things became startlingly clear.

  One. My brother was on the floor, watched over by Carolyn, whose sword was drawn but not at the ready.

  And two, he was the only one in this room.

  No. Not just the only one in this room. He was the only one left in the castle. With a sickening swirl in the pit of my stomach, I realized the truth. My brother’s reign over us—or, at the very least, his defense of his besieged castle—was all based on the smoke and mirrors of his magic. Today, he’d conjured those ghostly apparitions to come to his defense.

  He wasn’t a great and powerful king who’d bent everyone to his will. He hadn’t conquered Velkin and drawn the armies and the people to his defense. He was a scared, frightened, totally isolated man play-acting in a crown that was too big for him.

  He’d become so uncontrollable, so volatile, that by the time Anatole had gathered up enough troops to mount an attack, Adric had pushed everyone and everything away.

  A pain of sadness struck me. How awful, to have sacrificed everything and gained absolutely nothing. But just as quickly as that feeling rose up inside of me, a whole new wave of white-hot rage took its place. This was my brother, yes, but he was also a monster. A monster who’d infected me with evil magics, who’d invaded our homeland and exiled our parents, nearly killing our father in the process. He was cruel and wicked and now that we had the chance to stop him…

  We had the obligation to do so.

  Without another thought, I dropped my sword and ripped twin daggers from the sheathes at my hips, a gift from the Pixies that I had thought unnecessary at first but now was desperately grateful for. The thought of killing my own brother agitated the bile in my empty stomach, but the more I thought about his crimes, the more righteous my anger became.

  I started running towards him. Blades at the ready.

  But just as I made it to his feet, the woman I loved rose to her own, stopping my twin blades with the sword MagicBreaker. A shockwave from her blade travelled through our collided steel and reverberated through me, sending me staggering a few steps back.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped, as though she’d just punched me in the stomach.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  My daggers moved away from her sword with a sching! But no matter where I moved, no matter what approach I tried to get at my brother, Carolyn was there to fend off my blows and attacks. Of course she knew my
tricks. My style. I’d been the one to train her.

  “You cannot kill him,” Carolyn protested.

  Behind her, Adric, who was only barely conscious but apparently following the conversation, stirred a bit at this declaration, but not enough to concern me, not with his magic gone.

  “Why not?” I huffed, trying once again with my blades and being rebuffed just as easily. “Doesn’t he deserve it?”

  Carolyn’s eyes burned with an intensity I could only assume was equal to mine. “Then you’re just repeating the cycle, Anatole. The same cycle that sent him to the wilds where he got this magic in the first place. You cannot erase cruelty with more cruelty.”

  When she pushed me this time, I staggered back. I wanted to brush off what she was saying as weak-willed feminine sentiment, but I knew better than that. Compassion had always been my mother’s strength. Carolyn’s strength. Tormin’s strength. Even my father was known to exhibit it to great effect at one time or another.

  I glanced down at my brother, so pale and fragile at our feet. He had been reckless before his exile, but it was that exile—and the apparent betrayal by our parents—that had corroded his heart and turned him into the kind of monster who would trade his soul for evil magic and power. What if…what if instead of killing him for that, we saved him from it, instead?

  My grip on the daggers slackened. It seemed impossible, given all we’d been through.

  “You want him to just get away with it?”

  Carolyn shook her head. “Death is letting him get away with it. If we let him live, he will have to spend the rest of his life atoning for his crimes, learning from his mistakes, doing the hard work of earning forgiveness. Death would just be too easy, Anatole.”

  I’d never thought of it that way, but the truth of her words hit me squarely between the eyes. Killing him now would be satisfying revenge for a moment, but it would not create lasting peace or change. It would not turn me into the king of elf or king that I wished to be.

  With a small nod, I slowly returned my weapons to their holsters, and, with my peace wordlessly declared, Carolyn allowed me to walk towards my brother. I knelt down at his side.

  “Adric?” I asked.

  He stirred again, and when he opened his eyes, for the first time since his exile, they looked normal. Like the Adric I’d known as an elfling.

  “Anatole?” He replied. Then, his expression darkened. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

  I didn’t directly answer his question. “Do you surrender to our father, the true King of Velkin, and resign all claims to our throne?”

  I watched as Adric’s eyes flickered between me and Carolyn. I couldn’t read him, but I waited as patiently as I could for his answer.

  Behind me, I heard the rumble of footsteps as the survivors of this battle came rushing into The Great Hall—or what was left of it, anyway. From the way their conversation abruptly ended at the sight of us, I could only assume they hadn’t intended on stumbling upon this moment.

  Adric worked his jaw. Then, his eyes slipped closed again, and the energy seemed to leave his body. “Yes. I surrender.”

  The words were quiet, but somehow, they managed to travel across The Great Hall, and immediately, it filled with the sounds of celebration and revelry.

  We’d done it. We’d won the war.

  And so, with the world finally saved and our peoples protected from danger, I swept Carolyn Conners into my arms, and kissed her.

  Epilogue

  Carolyn

  It was a beautiful Spring day in Velkin. The kind of day that you’d imagine when you think magical fairy tale realm that had just been saved from utter destruction at the hands of a formerly evil prince. The sun poured golden rays through the singing forest, flooding the Castle Bloc with light. The naiads sang their soprano arias in the lake as the loch monster added his own baritone notes. The Acakis flowers were in full bloom today, and the wind carried their scent wherever it went. Sweet. Heady. Almost dizzying in their lovely simplicity.

  It was the perfect day for a re-dedication ceremony.

  After the destruction of the ancient structure—first during our exodus from Castle Bloc and then, again, during the great battle that followed—it took a great deal of magic to repair the stone walls and the interiors that had been changed during Adric’s reign. Queen Freia’s magic alone hadn’t been enough to rebuild. It had taken the magic of every kind of magical creature across the kingdom, plus more time than I’d ever thought magic would need. Days and days passed as the magic of the castle, which had been corrupted during Adric’s occupation, repaired itself and grew back into its normal, warm, brilliant self.

  It wasn’t quite as it had once been. Because of the nature of the enchanted stone, you couldn’t just build it back exactly the same. The coloring of the newly created and magicked stone was decidedly lighter than the original, which meant that the Castle Bloc bore literal scars from the war, just like I did.

  There was something hopeful about that, strangely enough. It was as if the eternal Castle, where students would go forever and ever, stood as a reminder that everyone can heal, even from the worst.

  In the days following the battle and the quiet that followed, there had been discussions and arguments about what would come next. About punishments and justice, about restoring the world or building it back better and stronger than it had ever been before.

  Today, I was going to try and take the first step towards that better and stronger world. Did I feel like I want to throw up? Yes. Was I so nervous that my hands were shaking? Again, yes.

  But this was important. After all of the battles and all of the unrest, I needed to make sure that something good came out of it. We’d already announced that Velkin Royal Academy would be open to all magical creatures—including all of the Pixies, who had once been so cruelly denied access. Anatole had made that announcement to his fellow Velkin days ago.

  Today, as I walked out onto the Great Staircase, where I’d first see Anatole so long ago, it was my turn to address the crowds of human and Velkin alike—the human dignitaries and press who had come for the re-opening of the castle— it was my turn to make my own announcement.

  Queen Freia called the crowd to her attention, spoke a few kind and encouraging words, before giving the floor to me and returning to her husband’s side. I cleared my throat. Don’t screw this up, Carolyn. Don’t screw this up.

  “Hello, everyone. Humans. Velkin.” I tried not to look at just how massive the crowd was, but I couldn’t help it. There were so many people looking up at me, looking to me for the announcement that would follow. I gripped the railing of the landing to force myself to stop swaying from the pressure. “My name is Carolyn Conners, and a year ago, I arrived here at The Velkin Royal Academy.”

  Those words, just the title of this building, filled me with a strange certainty. A firmness. I straightened and stood at my full height.

  “I was so scared. And so excited. I’d never really found my place. Never really knew where I belonged. I was too tough and too cool and too proud and too scared to really open myself up to anyone.”

  “But then I came here. And realized that the world was so much bigger than I’d ever dreamed it could be. And that there is more wonder, love, compassion and, yes, magic, than I ever could have thought possible.”

  The more I talked about Velkin and all of the ways it had changed my life—all of the ways in which it had saved my life—the more my confidence grew. My lips moved into a smile as I continued my announcement, finishing off with a proud flourish.

  This was the happiest moment of my life so far. The moment when I would finally offer to so many people the wonderful opportunity I’d had.

  “I am now proud and honored to announce a new chapter in the Royal Academy of Velkin’s history. As one of the first human students ever admitted to the school, it is my pleasure to announce that it will be fully open to human and Velkin students alike.” For a brief moment, I turned back around to gla
nce at the faces of the people I’d come to love here. Queen Freia. The King. Anatole. Tormin and Kyra. My smile spread even further now, a physical manifestation of the joy currently overflowing from the depths of my once-darkened, once-bruised heart. Then, I turned back to the crowd and finished my speech. “The Royal Velkin Academy will be place for us all to come together, grow, and create a better world.”

  ✽✽✽

  After the speech finished, I was almost immediately swept into a whirlwind of conversations and questions, of debate and photographs and inquiries and interested stares. Queen Freia helped when she could, cutting in to help as Anatole and Tormin were being monopolized across the castle floor.

  But, eventually, I managed to sneak out of the main floor and away to a back corridor, where there was no one to ask me questions and no one to prod me about the future. I finally, finally, had a moment to myself. To absorb all that had happened and all that would happen.

  Honestly? To catch my breath.

  For a moment, I was able to do just that. Leaning against the wall, I slid my eyes closed and took several deep, calming and cleansing breaths. But then, Anatole’s smooth, sexy voice broke my reverie.

  “You were fantastic.”

  I opened my eyes and saw the man I loved standing there, leaning in the doorway like the handsome, arrogant, charming bastard he was. Just at the sight of him, my lips already itched to kiss him, a desire that only grew and grew with every sauntering step he took in my direction.

  We’d done it. We’d saved our worlds together. And now, we were together, standing at the brink of a new world that we would get to build together. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

  “I felt so silly,” I confessed, something I never would have told anyone else. “I just wanted to do a good job and I felt like—”

  “You were brilliant.” His warm hands came to rest on my hips, holding me in place and reassuring me with every motion. When he looked at me, it was like my every nerve ending came alive. “Every bit the woman I fell in love with.”