Trial of Shadows (Order of the Elements Book 3)

by Emma L. Adams

  So he did remember me? “Coming to the school reunion?”

  “No,” he said. “Are you?”

  “Over my dead body… not that that’s an invitation,” I hastened to add. “I wasn’t being serious. You couldn’t pay me to set foot in that hellhole again.”

  It was bad enough that half the Order would no doubt be gossiping about me being involved in the mysterious deaths of two vampire ambassadors. I didn’t need to stand there and listen.

  “I thought not,” he said. “There was little in our education that was remotely relevant to my career.”

  “You mean, being King of the Dead.” A grin swept my mouth. “I’m having trouble imagining you in a classroom.”

  “I was rarely there,” he said. “It’s hard to discipline someone who’s going to be dead in a few years, so the academy never bothered to chase me up.”

  “They knew?” But if the Order had known he belonged to the former House of Spirit, then they’d known exactly what was coming for him. “Haven’t the liches been around forever, though? How long has this curse been going on?”

  “The liches have existed for as long as the spirit mages have, yes,” he said. “But before the war, it was very different.”

  “The war,” I said. “But—does that mean you’re…?”

  Damn. The liches had once been the very spirit mages who’d slaughtered the council and started the war. Except they hadn’t died out after all.

  They’d been transformed.

  “The survivors of the Council of the Elements enacted a punishment on the House of Spirit for their actions in the war,” he said, his voice soft. “The curse they unleashed crept into the bloodlines of every member of the House of Spirit, and all of them were faced with the same choice: to turn lich, or to die. The same curse still lives on in every member of my House and is set to strike the instant they reach a viable level of spirit magic. For most of us, that’s around the age of eighteen.”

  The illusion had always been his real face. He’d always been someone I knew, from the world before my memories had split down the middle and left me stranded on the wrong side.

  “So, the spirit mages never died?” I could hardly believe the Council had let them live… forever, even. “Some of them survived?”

  “Not every spirit mage fought in the war,” he said, his tone distant. “Some disagreed with the whole notion. Others were cast out for the same reason. Regardless, the punishment hit every member of the House, guilty or not, and ultimately brought an end to the war. If their intention was to prevent the spirit mages from ever rising to power again, they succeeded.”

  “Damn,” I whispered. “They cursed the spirit mages’ children, too? Bit harsh.”

  “They judged us all culpable for our parents’ wrongdoing,” he said. “You know how the Order operates.”

  The Order did it. It was them. “But… you still have power over the other liches. Right?”

  “Provided I behave,” he said, with no hint of irony in his tone. “The Order and the vampires made a deal with the heads of the Houses of the Elements to ensure none of them ever rises to their former glory.”

  “Then… the Order wants me to join you, as a spirit mage.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s why they gave up trying to stop me from working with you. They figured out you’re probably teaching me magic and they decided the only solution is for me to stay in the Parallel.”

  And either turn lich or die, in the end. If I died, it didn’t matter. If I survived long enough to turn lich, I would no longer be a threat to them. Either way, they’d won.

  He inclined his head. “You weren’t supposed to exist. What Alban did… teaching independent practitioners magic… it was intended to create new spirit mages in the only possible way.”

  “By picking ordinary people and unlocking their potential.” Bitterness laced my voice. “Knowing what the Order would do if we were caught.”

  Which at least proved that ordinary mages could turn into spirit mages, given the right training, but that made the punishment inflicted on the House of Spirit seem all the harsher. To close that loophole, the Order had banned the use of spirit magic, and they’d condemned the liches to a living death in order to stay on top.

  “Why do you think I ensure I maintain my authority over the liches?” the Death King said. “It’s entirely intentional that I keep a reputation as a callous ruler who punishes anyone who crosses him. The Order wouldn’t accept anything less from the person elected to keep the other liches—and spirit mages—in line.”

  “Aren’t you stronger than the Order?” I said.

  “Here, yes,” he said. “In their realm, though? I certainly can’t single-handedly take on the entirety of the Order’s worldwide presence at once.”

  I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of him being anything other than the undead overlord of his territory. But that was the point. He’d cultivated his reputation on purpose. He needed the Order to see him a certain way. So he wouldn’t end up like me. Or worse, Cobb.

  “Were you born on Earth, then?” I asked. “If your parents were liches, how is that possible? I mean…” Immortal death lords can’t fuck, I almost said, before remembering who I was talking to.

  “I wasn’t aware you were an expert.”

  “You’re dead.” I’d walked headfirst into that one, and I had nobody to blame but myself. “Also, I doubt I’d be thinking about getting laid if I was cursed to a living death.”

  “Are you sure?” he said. “Given enough practise, most of us are capable of using our illusion skills to recreate almost any human experience.”

  “I do not need to know about your sex life, Death King.”

  “You were the one who asked the questions,” he said.

  Yes. I had. And I had more than a few other queries which were more important than the improbability of a lich getting laid. “Why would the other liches turn against you, if you’re the only thing keeping them alive?”

  “There have always been defectors,” he said. “Now they’ve heard of the spells the Crow had in development, they believe that if they find a way to replicate them and return to life, it will set them free and bring an end to the curse. They’re wrong, of course.”

  “You mean the cantrip that turned them into living beings only for them to die again?” I said. “They think there’s really a way to use a similar spell break the curse?”

  “There isn’t.” He snapped out the words, and I flinched. “I would know.”

  “I guess you would.” An ache filled my chest as he turned away, leaving me wondering at what point I’d become comfortable enough to talk to him, and to feel pain at everything he and his people had suffered. And now I knew the hold the Order had over him ran as deep as their grip on my own life.

  The Death King vanished, and I blinked awake, closer to answers but more lost than ever before.

  14

  Another day, another challenge. Two more rounds of the contest to go, assuming the castle didn’t catch on fire first, that is. Today’s round involved magical combat, yet the constant bursts of flame weren’t the reason my concentration levels were non-existent. The vampires’ looming threat didn’t help, nor did the Death King’s absence and the shadow of the revelations he’d piled on me last night. Instead of watching the contest, I found myself watching the shadowy forms of liches glide around the swampland, wondering who they’d been before they’d been bound to a living death.

  The House of Spirit had never died. Not permanently. Question was, how many of them had already left the Court of the Dead, now the enemy had promised them the one thing the Death King had never been able to give them? The other liches would never be completely under Hawker’s control as long as the Death King survived, which probably meant his end goal must be to steal the soul amulet again.

  The Death King… or his real name, Greyson. Had we ever spoken at school? I couldn’t recall anything, and yet I was missing so many memories from those years that we m
ight have been in the same D&D group and I wouldn’t know it. And as for what he’d told me about the Order and their hold over his Court and his family…

  Someone screamed, startling me out of my reverie. Harper flew back across the arena floor, dodging torrents of flame, and hit the ground hard. Her hands rose, flames fluttering from her fingers, then they died out.

  “What’s going on?” I strode up to the earthen wall bordering the arena.

  Harper scrambled upright, puffs of smoke emanating from her hands. “My magic isn’t working.”

  “It isn’t?” I looked around the arena at the other pairs of fighters, but I didn’t see any obvious obstacle which would stop her from using her powers. No water on the floor or raindrops or mist.

  Her hands ignited, but the fire went out an instant later. Her opponent advanced on her, his own hands blazing, only for the flames to die out before he could launch his attack. He looked at his hands in confusion.

  The other contenders were having the same difficulty. Flames sputtered and died, as though something unseen was suppressing the contenders’ magic. I walked around the arena to join the other Elemental Soldiers. “What’s going on?”

  “Is there another water mage around?” said Cal.

  “Not that I can see.” Felicity peered over the arena’s edge. “I’ll keep an eye on them. Can the rest of you search the grounds? If it’s a spell, the caster can’t be far away.”

  “I’ll root them out.” Ryan’s magic blasted several bushes to pieces, but no water mages materialised.

  If Harper was affected, too, it should mean her brother wasn’t responsible—unless she wanted to lose, but that made little sense. I walked around the arena’s edge and spotted Bria standing over her fallen opponent. She didn’t seem to be having any trouble conjuring fire, but that didn’t necessarily make her guilty.

  Come to think of it, I never had followed up with her about the House of Fire. I’d been more concerned with the vampires, the assassins and Brant’s escape, but who knew, maybe it was all linked. Someone in here wanted the Death King off his throne, and she’d told me to go to the House of Fire herself. It was a tenuous link, I’d admit, but not one I could overlook.

  Might the other Houses still bear a grudge against the Court of the Dead for the spirit mages’ actions in the war? Had they faced punishment, too, or was the House of Spirit alone saddled with the consequences? During my conversation with the Death King last night, I’d forgotten to ask how if the other Houses had faced a similar punishment from the Order after the war, if not as severe as the Court of the Dead. Overnight, I’d thought of a million other questions I wanted to ask, but they’d have to wait until he came back.

  I caught Bria’s eye as she knocked her opponent flat on his back. “Hey.”

  She lifted her head. “Why are you looking at me funny?”

  “A bunch of people are losing their magic.” I gestured around the arena.

  “Don’t blame me,” she said. “Maybe they spent too long in the shower.”

  “Ha.” Her tone didn’t hide any visible guilt, but I’d been looking for an excuse to talk to her either way. “Either it’s someone in here, or another outsider.”

  “Did you kick Sledge out for good?” She sauntered over to the fence and leaned over to speak to me. “Maybe he’s the culprit. I mean, he’s bound to be pissed off at losing his place here.”

  “He deserved it,” I responded. “As you know well.”

  “Hmm.” She conjured up a flame in each hand. “Looks fine to me.”

  I looked around the arena again. At least half the participants were on the defensive, hardly able to conjure a spark. Bria herself wore a casual expression which almost masked her tired eyes and tense air. Hiding something. Definitely hiding something. “Where’d you learn to fight?”

  “I had a good teacher.”

  Better than good, if the way she’d fought earlier was any indication. I’d never seen her overtly breaking the rules, and yet there was something different about the way she fought that set her apart from the others.

  And then there was her inexplicable visit to the Citadel, which was supposed to be out of bounds.

  “Are you sure you don’t know any spirit mages?” The question escaped before I could quite think it through.

  Her jaw tensed. “I know you. If that counts. Why, did you think you had to become buddies with the Death King to learn spirit magic?”

  My mouth parted. She had some cheek, that was for sure. She couldn’t possibly know about our lessons, but I needed to shut her down before she got any dangerous ideas.

  “I’m in the Death King’s employment,” I told her. “That doesn’t make us friends.”

  “No, because he isn’t around,” she said. “He’s skiving off, isn’t he? Not even watching his own trials.”

  “Are you sure you want this job?” I said, exasperated. “Because you’re doing a great job of convincing me to kick you out.”

  “Thought it was up to the King of the Dead,” she said.

  “The final decision is.” Hell if I knew if it was true, though. After all, he wasn’t in the castle, though it was beyond me to figure out how she’d worked it out. “Have you been snooping around the castle when the Elemental Soldiers told you to stay put?”

  “I saw most of it during the flood,” she said. “I met your fire sprite, too. He’s cool. Why did he get put in charge of guarding the hall of souls, anyway?”

  “You met Dex.” Okay, this girl was ringing way too many warning bells. “He got the job because he’s the one person I trust to keep any potential saboteurs out of the castle. And if you’re getting any ideas, then I’ll gladly escort you to the jail myself.”

  Her mouth pressed together. “No need for that. I thought you wanted me to give you information about potential saboteurs, not accuse me of doing the same.”

  “If you know someone in here who plans to disrupt the contest—”

  “I don’t,” she said, a little too quickly. “But I don’t think Sledge was working alone. He has friends.”

  I glanced around, followed her gaze, and spotted another larger contender with a mullet haircut who could have been Sledge’s younger brother, shooting fireballs at his cowering opponent. A questioning look earned a nod from her. So it’s him, huh.

  Before I went to confront him, I asked, “Do you know the location of the House of Fire?”

  Bria frowned. “Why? If you want to ask them if one of their members is trying to wreck the contest, they’ll throw you out on your arse.”

  “For one thing, a former friend of mine might be hiding with them.” I was starting to regret bringing up the subject. “For another, I’m about fifty percent sure someone connected to the House sent assassins after me. Do you know them personally?”

  And what about her side trip into the Citadel of the Elements?

  Before she could answer, Ryan strode up to me. “We’re resuming the matches. No magic. Bria, you’re fighting Clancy over there.”

  “Put her against that dude instead.” I pointed at the big guy, who was called Bark or something equally weird. Bria shot me an unreadable look before walking over to the other fire mage to start her match with him.

  Did she know about the assassins who’d perished in the jail? Or was she entirely innocent? She definitely knew the House of Fire’s location, but it sounded like there were more members of said House than I’d thought. If the House of Fire held as many people as the Death King’s Court did, then I’d be hard-pressed to take them on alone. Besides, if Brant wasn’t at their hideout and they weren’t responsible for sending the assassins, I’d be putting my life at risk for no reason. Better to find the traitor among the contenders first. Then I’d find out who’d sent them.

  The challengers’ magic continued to malfunction, even with the regular combat rules in progress. It was like someone had flooded the arena again, except there wasn’t so much as a droplet of water in sight. No matter how hard I searched the grounds,
I found no signs of Harper’s brother, either. I even ducked into the jail, finding someone had removed the assassins’ bodies. No doubt the Death King had someone turning their bones into ornaments. Though it struck me that the creepy décor might be nothing more than a façade, to convince everyone that he was a terrifying monster.

  How was I to know truth from lie anymore?

  I returned to the arena to find Bria had knocked out her opponent, who lay sprawled on his back, his clothes smoking at the edges.

  “He cheated using a cantrip,” said Bria. “Gave himself a boost.”

  “Can anyone back you up on that?” I looked behind the arena to the gates, and a beam of light snagged my gaze on the other side of the fence.

  The node. Someone’s coming into the swampland.

  I turned my back on the arena, leaving a bewildered Bria behind, and ran past the cloaked liches at the gate in pursuit of the shimmering node. As I veered in that direction, a dark shape appeared within.

  I stepped right up to the node, reached inside it, and grabbed a solid arm, yanking the intruder on top of me. The two of us crashed to the swampy ground. Sledge snarled and grabbed at me, only for me to ram an elbow into his ribs.

  “Back again?” I snarled. “Are you the one who’s switching off everyone’s magic?”

  Fire spluttered from his fingertips. His mouth twisted, his eyes quite deranged, and he aimed a wild punch at my nose. I blocked with my forearm and drew the node’s power into me, but he leapt out of the way of my attack with surprising speed. How is he moving so damn fast?

  As he surged forwards, I kicked his legs out from underneath him. Energy poured from my hands and slammed his head into the ground. “Stay put, dickhead.”

  Sparks flew overhead, and Dex zoomed over. “You need to stop getting into fights when I’m not around.”

  “Thought you were guarding the you-know-what.”

  “Aria is there instead,” said the fire sprite. “I wondered why you ran outside the gates. What’s with him?”

  Sledge let out a bellow of rage, but I grabbed a handful of his life force and tugged. His thrashing grew weaker, and when I drew another surge of life force from him, he flopped onto his back.