by Kirah Nyx
His mercurial eyes dragged over the fallen branches and lopsided nests. “What happened?”
Ivy traced his gaze, fidgeting with the daisy in her hand. “I don’t know,” she admitted, eyeing the destruction around her. A Fae must’ve come by at some point. Had she been that lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed a tree splitting and branches falling?
He approached and held out his hand. Ivy took it before he lifted her to her feet.
“The glittergate opens in thirty minutes,” said Samael. He plucked a leaf from her hair. “You should get ready.”
They walked back to the Academy. Ivy repeatedly combed her fingers through her hair, brushing out dried leaves and clumps of dirt. Her mother would have a fit if she wasn’t presentable at dinner.
“What were you doing out there?” asked Samael. They climbed up the stone stairs to the main foyer.
“I was talking to a friend,” she said.
“You were alone.”
Ivy rested her hand on the bannister as they trudged up the carpeted staircase. “I was when you found me.”
As they reached the den, he said, “I saw Adriana and Penelope go down to the Fae party earlier. What other friends do you have?”
It wasn’t meant as a cutting insult. It was just Samael being his usual blunt self. Even so, Ivy couldn’t resist the scowl that contorted her face and crinkled her nose.
“For your information,” she said importantly. “I’m friends with a Videer.”
Samael sighed, almost wearily. “When will you realise that you’re better than most others at this school? The Videer, the Fae, and most of our own species don’t measure up to the status your family name crowns you with. You should reflect that in the company you keep, Ivy.”
She rounded on him before he could spew out more nonsense. “In that case, I’ll tell you now. We” — her muddy hand waved between their bodies — “aren’t buddies. When I have to, I tolerate you. Hell, I suffer your company. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking I actually like you,” she sniffed and imitated his arrogant tone. “My reputation is reflected in the company I keep, after all.”
Spinning on her heels, her hair whipped out and smacked his chin. Ivy stomped away without an ounce of regret. Samael was the last person she wanted prying into her personal life. He was nosy, arrogant, and ruthless. The test with the Siren was proof enough of his cruelty.
16
“You haven’t touched your pudding, dear.”
Ivy glanced up at her mother, her long lashes flittering in her vision like shadows. Eveline gave her a pointed stare in return, and Ivy sighed under her breath. She stabbed her silver fork into the pudding and scooped a spongey lump up into her mouth. She smiled falsely at her mother, her cheeks puffing out.
“Manners,” her father distractedly reminded her. He’d paused his conversation with King Lucian to chide her, but quickly resumed the discussion.
The two families, the Valacs and Skylars, sat around the circular table for dinner. Felix, Samael and Ivy had gone through the glittergate by the Fae Springs to the main street in the Kilda Village.
Technically, the glittergate was meant only for emergencies, but who was Principal Caesar to deny the Valac monarchy anything? Practically when the glittergate was the only way off Blood Island, other than the lengthy and long cave tunnels. Ivy fleetingly wondered if the caves were above, beneath, or beside the Videer crypt.
Huffily, Ivy stabbed her pudding. Blood oozed out of the punctures. For a birthday dinner in her honour, she was awfully bored. Samael and Felix chatted across from her, Queen Anouk and Eveline gossiped to her left, and Edmund and King Lucian discussed politics to her right. Nobody talked to Ivy.
She stuffed another gooey chunk of pudding into her mouth and chewed with her mouth open. Her mother and father didn’t notice her attempt to catch their attention.
A drop of blood drippled down to the neckline of her cream dress. Ivy’s eyes widened comically as she gawked down at the offensive stain.
“Here, use this.” It was Samael. He’d seen the accident, and handed her a damp napkin that he had probably dunked into the otherwise untouched jug of water.
“Thanks,” she robotically said, and took the napkin from him. She dabbed lightly at the stain, but only made it worse. Her mother thinned her lips into a straight line disapprovingly, but said nothing of it. The dress would have to be tossed out later. A shame, because it was one of Ivy’s favourites. It was backless, elegant, and floor-length, matching perfectly with her strappy stilettoes.
The waiters approached and cleared the table of the half-eaten desserts.
Felix asked, “Any news on the attack in the Apricot Alps?”
“Nothing yet,” replied King Lucian. “Fae Queens from the four provinces are investigating the matter with the Committee.”
“Fae Queens?” echoed Ivy curiously.
“Yes. They are trying to figure out how the wards were breached. The pride of the Fae will not allow them to admit fault.”
“They don’t believe their wards failed,” said Edmund. “They are looking for something or someone to blame.”
“There’s nothing and nobody else to blame,” declared Eveline. “Resilient warding of cities and villages is their price to remain in our world. We all have our contributions, and they have failed to uphold theirs. They fear punishment; thus, they are desperate to project blame onto another.”
“They’re Fae folk,” scoffed Felix. “Lack of responsibility is expected of them.”
Lucian said, “Fae wards are essentially invisible brick walls, in a sense. No matter how strong and sturdy these walls are, the builder can loosen a few bricks in one spot. This creates a weak spot—one that others, such as Shifters, can enter through.”
The waiters arrived and placed bottles of infused wines and whiskeys on the table. King Lucian dismissed them with a wave.
“The matter will be addressed at the Summit,” promised Samael. A dangerous darkness flashed in his white eyes. “The Fae will be held accountable for their failure, and the deaths it caused.”
“The Fae didn’t cause the deaths,” snorted Ivy ungracefully. “The Shifters did that when they invaded and killed. The Fae wards aren’t at fault. Yeah, they should’ve kept the Shifters out of the city, but it’s not the Fae that should be blamed for the deaths of those people.”
“If the wards were as strong as they should be,” retorted Samael coldly, “the deaths would not have occurred. Lady Laundelle and Canyon Clover would still be accounted for.”
Ivy snorted rudely. “Isn’t it strange that you only mention Laundelle and Clover’s kidnappings in your argument, when loads of Videer and Fae were killed in the attack at the hospice? Or, do you openly admit that you only give a damn about Vampires, and don’t care at all about what’s happened to two other species?”
Samael stared icily at her. His finger raised and groomed a stray strand of silvery hair to the side. “I do not sympathise with the lesser species of the Arcane.”
“And who are the lesser species?” she asked curtly. “Everyone who isn’t a Vampire?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“What about the Fae? They’re like our cousins, our friends.”
Samael sneered cruelly. “Friends to some, cousins to no one, and inferior to all.”
“You’re honestly the most repulsive bigot I’ve ever met in my life,” she spat.
“Ivy!” barked Edmund. “Control yourself.”
“What?” she shrilled incredulously. “He expressed his views openly, which means that I’m within my rights to debate them. I’m not doing anything wrong, dad. At least what I’m saying is the truth.”
Samael raised his hand to dismiss Edmund’s outrage. “I do not take offence, Edmund. Ivy clearly struggles to grasp the superiority of her species. I have no qualms about enlightening her.”
“Enlightening me,” she repeated bitterly. “All you’ve done is show me that you think in ways that I find distasteful.”
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If anyone other than a Skylar had spoken to the Prince that way, there would’ve been an outcry. But Ivy and Samael had spent almost every day of their childhoods together, and their families were closely aligned. She took the liberty offered to her.
“You find my views distasteful, because you do not understand them,” he replied coolly. “If you were to approach the topic with an open mind, I may be able to convince you.”
“I could say the same about you and my views,” she said with a cocky smile.
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “Yet, I shall never strive to comprehend the views of a silly eighteen-year-old girl, who spends her time shopping with her father’s money and doesn’t know the first thing about basic politics in our world.”
A fierce blush spread over her cheeks as her jaw ticked. With that one calmly spoken sentence, she’d been pushed back into her place and silenced. There was only so much disrespect she could hurl at him without consequences, and she knew that.
Ivy squirmed in her chair under the stern stares of her parents.
Felix came to her rescue and swerved the topic back onto track. “The one recurring element we can all agree on is the Rebellion,” he said. “Either their forces are strengthening, or they’ve simply gotten bold.”
“The original Rebellion have recruited their own offspring,” said King Lucian. “The Shifter who attacked Verato was examined post-mortem. The Shaman estimated his age to be between thirty and forty years. He was too young to be a part of the first battle.”
“And who knows how many children they’ve produced, trained, and influenced to continue the fight they have already lost,” added Edmund. “Their numbers are unknown, which prevents us with a disadvantage.”
“Do the children of the Shifter carry the curse?” asked Ivy.
“Yes,” replied Felix, nodding. “It’s within their DNA now. They, and their descendants, will forever be cursed.”
Ivy hummed thoughtfully. The curse wasn’t one she’d choose for herself, but the advantages of it were obvious. The ability to change into other beings upon will. Though, the curse carried more than that. Every Shifter suffered the need to live in beast form for the entire length of the Northern Hemisphere’s winter. And winter was nearing; only days away. It was fortunate for the Arcane—the Rebellion couldn’t orchestrate attacks while in the bodies of creatures, thus their entire organisation would crumble for the whole snowy season.
Felix appeared to read her mind. “Their beastly hibernation is approaching. It’s the most opportune time to hunt them down and slaughter every one of them.”
“The Committee are forming an army of Videer for that very purpose,” said Samael. “And once the Shifters are eliminated, what is to stop us from declaring war on the rest of the Videer?”
Ivy rolled her eyes at his predictability. “Is there anyone you don’t want to kill?”
Samael’s hard eyes met her gaze. “These are matters I must consider, Ivy. Do you forget so easily that Shifters are Videer? More of them can follow in the footsteps of the Rebellion, whether in this decade, or centuries after. When I take the throne, it will be my influence that manages the structure of our world. Killing off species and exiling them is not a task I will enjoy, but an opportunity I cannot overlook.”
The throne would only be offered to him when and if his father died, or if King Lucian chose to pass the crown. Ivy smiled dryly and raised her glass in mock salute. “In that case, Prince Samael, long live King Lucian.”
Felix choked on the whiskey blood he’d been drinking and chortled into his glass. Samael, on the other hand, looked downright murderous as he glowered at her with smouldering eyes.
He didn’t compose himself, but his voice was surprisingly flat as he replied, “And I suppose you are comfortable with the artefacts hidden in the Videer crypts? Do you know of what they have access to?”
“Weapons and Seers,” she replied lazily. “And a bunch of dusty old scrolls.”
“Much more than that,” he said. A dark undertone clung to his deep aristocratic voice. “They have The Divine Artefacts.”
Ivy’s face slackened into a look of disbelief and mild humour. Slowly, her lips spread into a grin before she erupted into a fit of giggles. “So, let me see if I understand. You want to kill off an entire species — people who protect us and our world — because you believe in fairy tales?”
“Are they fairy tales?” asked Felix philosophically. He wagged his finger at his frowning sister. “How would you know? You wouldn’t—because the Videer don’t want you to know.”
Ivy blinked at him, baffled. “What?”
“Hear me out,” he said dramatically, waving his hands to catch everyone’s attention. Ivy suspected he’d had too much blood whiskey. “The Videer crypts are full of things we don’t know about, yes?” Ivy nodded. “Some Videer are Knights, some are Weapon Forgers, and others are the Keepers of Secrets and Seers. It stands to reason that the objects they keep hidden in the crypts, and keep shrouded in secret, are items we perhaps already know about, but do not believe to be anything other than myths.”
“That’s what you think they have down there?” she asked, perplexed. “The Divine Artefacts? The objects in the Heavenly Chest that fell from the sky to the gates of Eden, hundreds of thousands of years ago?”
“Yes,” he said, unconcerned. “Why not? What evidence is there to disprove my theory?”
Ivy cocked her eyebrow and smirked. “What evidence is there to support it?”
“The reasons for concealing it from The cloaked world,” Samael answered stiffly. “If the Arcane knew the Artefacts existed, every species would want them for themselves. No species is truly in control here, except the Videer. We—” He gestured to his fellow monarchs. “—are in power, but are we in control? No. We, and the Committee, answer to the Videer. They run The cloaked world stealthily, and we allow them to. But if the Artefacts are real, and the Videer have them, any species could try and steal them—”
“—thus they’d be the ones in power and control,” said Felix, finishing Samael’s sentence. “Whoever is in possession of The Divine Artefacts can take the strongest abilities from all other species. They will then become the most powerful beings in the world.”
“For instance,” added Edmund. His tone was gentle as he addressed his daughter. “If you, my child, had the Artefacts, you could take the spirit magic of all lineages. Every spirit magic in the world would become yours. But this would drain the other Vampires of their magic, leaving them powerless.”
“And,” said Felix, “you could take the powers of the Fae, Videer and Seers for yourself. But their magic would then be lost, because you have taken it.”
Ivy countered, “If the Videer had these Artefacts, which they don’t because they don’t exist, but if they had them, why wouldn’t they have used them already? The Videer could use them to take the power from all Arcane and make themselves indestructible. So why haven’t they done it already?”
“Because not everyone craves such power,” said Anouk. She shot a lingering gaze at her son, but Samael stared fiercely at Ivy. “Not everyone wants to steal from the world and rule it. Only some pine after such destinies.”
“The Videer answer to the Seers, who, in turn, answer to the Gods,” added Eveline. “Is it not possible that the Seers are Videer who use the Angelical Stone to communicate with the Gods? And, if the Gods have expressed their opinions on the matter, the Videer would obey. Who is to say the Videer haven’t already asked to use all the Artefacts, and were denied?”
Ivy looked incredulously at her mother. It almost sounded as if she believed this nonsense.
“It’s a nice thought,” said Felix. “To be the holder of the Artefacts; the most powerful being in the world. To have the strengths of all Arcane, every spirit magic, the magic of Fae, the trickery of Vampires, the knowledge of Videer, the shape-shifting of Shifters, the ability to be anywhere at any time. Immune to all weapons, venom, sunlight, everything … But the
re can only be one holder of the Artefacts.”
Ivy scowled at her intoxicated brother before she flickered her gaze to Samael.
“And that’s why you want to kill off the Videer?” spat Ivy, her hands trembling slightly around her wineglass, partly from anxiety and partly from rage. “Because you believe in fairy tales?”
“Your naivety is both startling and mesmerising,” he replied aloofly. “Is it not better to remove an infection before it becomes a disease? What will happen when a rogue Videer decides to use the Artefacts before we acknowledge their existence? Or, a Videer chooses to join the Rebellion and takes the Artefacts with them? Extremists are a very real threat to the operations of our orderly world.”
“You’re worrying about something that hasn’t happened, and probably won’t ever happen, because the Artefacts don’t exist,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
Edmund went to speak, likely to berate her for her attitude, but Samael spoke before he could. “The day I hold those Artefacts in my hand and show them to you will be a glorious day, Ivy.” Samael smiled, a rare sight, and a chilling one. There was nothing teasing, charming or suave about it. It sent ripples of dread through her, and coiled in tendrils beneath her skin. In vain, she slipped on a cracked mask of indifference.
“I promise you,” she sassed, “if that day ever comes, I will kneel before you, and grovel for your forgiveness.”
Samael’s lips tugged, spreading his smile into a frightening grin, filled with such ferocity that Ivy barely managed to supress the shudder quaking at her bones.
Samael merely replied, “I look forward to it.”
Ivy stood by the cloakroom with Felix.
A waiter draped her cream shawl over her shoulders as Felix tossed a tip on the countertop. He looked over at the balcony where the others were congregated, finishing off their drinks. While Ivy and Felix shared a somewhat rocky relationship, she knew him better than her own fangs. The anxiety stirring in his pearly eyes didn’t go unnoticed.
