by Keith Walter
“I’m not a child!” Grace screamed, catching her mother’s hand before it could reach her hair. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”
Entregon pulled her hand loose and snatched Grace’s wrist in a single motion. “Don’t you?” she demanded harshly. Her free hand swept to Grace’s hair in a blur, plucking out one of several gray hairs hidden beneath the outer layers. She held the hair up to Grace, nearly touching her daughter’s nose with it. “Is this what you call taking care of yourself?”
Grace’s eyes began to glisten, and silent tears began to drive a path down her cheeks. “Let her go,” Charles’s voice broke in. Grace gave a sidelong glance at the man, shocked to hear anyone attempt to order her mother around.
“Do not involve yourself in family affairs,” Entregon warned, eyes never leaving her daughter.
Charles let out a soft “Tch,” apparently unimpressed by the offhanded dismissal. “I think—” He never had the chance to finish his thought. Where he once stood at Grace’s side, there was only Entregon’s fist. Charles found himself sailing through the air at incredible speeds, and then the bone-shaking crash as his body smashed through the walls of the dining room.
“Charles,” Grace cried out. She tried to run, but found her mother’s grip unbreakable. Nonetheless, she struggled, slamming her free hand into her mother’s wrist futilely. After several seconds of struggle, her mother grabbed her free hand, as well.
“Calm yourself, child. Your toy soldier is not broken.” Entregon looked past her daughter briefly, and a hand appeared from the hole in the wall. Charles dragged his body forward, blood dripping from his mouth. He coughed, spitting out red, but continued forward in an army crawl.
“Please, mother, let me go to him,” Grace pleaded.
“In good time,” Entregon responded cryptically. “But do not think you are off the hook.” She released Grace’s left hand and grabbed a clump of her daughter’s hair, pulling the strands in front of her eyes. “How could you let this happen?”
“I didn’t… I wasn’t…” Grace stopped herself. Even if her mother would listen, truly listen, Grace could not divulge anything that happened on Wolfe Island. Her mother must know she met with the regent, but she had to keep the location of the others secret. She couldn’t imply anyone else was even on board. “I was reckless,” she admitted.
“More than that,” Entregon barked, her voice like a slap. “You allowed a parasite to burrow inside. And instead of burning it out, you turned a blind eye. What have I always taught you above all else?”
Grace let her eyes fall to the deck. “Trust no one but each other.”
“Do you think I said this for my own benefit, just to manipulate my little girl?” Entregon unconsciously squeezed Grace’s wrist, enough to make her grimace.
“I’m sorry, Mother, but that’s just…not who I am,” Grace admitted.
“And look where that has gotten you!” Entregon yelled. “You are dying. Dying! I taught you better than this. I never wanted you to be like—” She stopped, taking shallow breaths to calm herself. “Everything I have taught you, I taught to ensure you never ended up like this.”
“This is a sight to behold,” a new voice called from across the bows.
Entregon swiveled her head around, anger bubbling to the surface. “I thought I asked you to wait for my call.”
“You did, and I obliged. I could only assume the way you lashed out with your power was a signal.” The man looked across the deck to Charles, who had locked eyes with him while struggling to his feet. “I see now I was mistaken, though perhaps that is for the better. Hello, Charleton.”
“Kene,” Charles spat out. “I should have known it would be you.”
“Grand General Kenewath, actually,” the man replied calmly. “I outrank you now, so it is quite rude to talk on a first-name basis.
“Ha! As if you care.” Charles managed to bring himself to a standing position. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how rude you can be, even to your best friends.”
“You wound me, Charleton,” Kene stated with feigned hurt, “to say I have ever had friends. Alastair was a contemporary whose talents benefitted my strength and whose own weakness ensured he could never surpass me. He was useful for a time, but that use ended, just as yours has.”
“You son of a bitch!” Charles yelled. He crouched and began gathering his magic, releasing the seals on his power.
“Kene,” Entregon spoke in a low and threatening tone.
“Yes, that just will not do,” Kene responded as if he’d found dirt on his new shoes. In an instant, he was across Grace’s deck, one fist buried in Charles’s solar plexus, the other hand around his throat. Charles crumpled in his arms, barely remaining conscious. “You are not the man you once were, Charleton. You should take it easy.” He tossed Charles’s limp body at Entregon’s feet. “My apologies. Please return to your daughter.” He bowed graciously and strode back to Entregon’s deck.
“Who?” Grace found herself asking, staring at the man now leaning lazily against her mother’s railing. When her surprise subsided, she tried to reach down and touch Charles’s face, only to feel her mother yank her bodily away.
“You do not appear to understand the trouble you are in, child. Grand General Kenewath is master of the Union armies, personally tasked with tracking down the creature laying on your deck.” Entregon felt her daughter struggle, but was tired of fighting. She crossed Grace’s arms and pulled her close, switching her own arms to snake around her daughter’s back. She pinned her daughter in a tight hug, refusing to let the girl squirm away. “I can do many things, but I am not all powerful. You have harbored the worst of criminals, attacked a Union portal, and nearly revealed the world of magic to the humans by awaking Alignak. These crimes cannot go unpunished.”
Grace stopped struggling as the charges tumbled out. Even accepting her true intentions, she could not help but feel saddened by what she had done. The portal and Alignak especially were impetuous, even if she felt justified at the time. “Charles is not the criminal they say, Mother.”
“He is fey, and that is damnable enough,” Entregon replied quickly. “You think him different because you have feelings for him, but he is not. He is the same as the one who hurt you, the same as all the rest. You think he cares for you, but you cannot see what you really are to him: a tool for his escape and nothing else.”
“That’s not true,” Grace cried. “You don’t know him.”
“I know his kind!” Entregon hissed. “Just like the one behind us, he would jump at any chance to increase his stature no matter what stands in his way.”
Grace, pressed to her mother so tightly, could see the man, Kene, listening. He seemed to consider her mother’s words before smiling and nodding appreciably. When he caught Grace looking, he gave a friendly wave. She tried to glance at Charles, but couldn’t turn her head far enough. She was reminded of the angry, aggressive man she first met when Charles had awoken. But she knew better now. That’s not the person he was, not the person she loved.
“He is different,” Grace stated, expression hard.
Entregon loosened her grip, sliding her hands up to her daughter’s shoulders and pushing her far enough away to look her in the eye. “It does not matter,” she stated.
Tears fell from Grace’s eyes, but she refused to look away. “Do your worst then. I freely admit to whatever charges you level. Tell your Grand General to execute me, it no longer matters.”
Entregon closed her eyes and a small smile found its way to her face. “You may not believe me, but I have always had your best interests at heart. I have protected you, and tried to teach you how to protect yourself. It is clear now that you are not ready to take care of yourself, and I am not too proud to admit that my latest methods have not been the best of lessons.” Opening her eyes, she offered her daughter a sincere smile. “But there is time yet to correct those mistakes, for both of us.”
“What are you talking about?” Grace asked, suspic
ious.
“Grand General, that trinket, if you please,” Entregon requested.
Kene reached into his jacket and pulled out the oblong metal heart. He tossed it once in the air, letting it flip end over end before catching it between two fingers. He returned to leaning against the rail, his elbow propped up so Grace could easily see the heart. He amused himself by spinning the heart on his finger as Grace stared.
“Mother, is that…?” Grace could barely find the breath to speak.
“Yes, child, that is the heart so cruelly stolen from you.” Noticing Grace’s continued shock, Entregon released one shoulder to brush her fingers against her daughter’s cheek. “I have convinced the General that you have simply erred because of your youth and inexperience. He cares only that his quarry is eliminated. If you were to prove your loyalty to the Union, you will be released into my custody and I will make you whole again.”
“Whole…” Grace whispered, aching already to feel the magic of the sea once again. It took her a moment longer to process the rest of her mother’s words. “What do you mean, prove my loyalty?”
“The Union demands that man at your feet be eliminated. I was to have that honor, but I offer it now to you.” The smile on Entregon’s face fell, serious eyes boring into her daughter. “Kill him, consume him, whatever you decide, and you will have a place of honor in the Union for all time.”
Grace took a startled step back, equally surprised when her mother let her go. “You cannot ask that of me,” she pleaded.
Entregon’s eyes darkened. “I am not asking.” Before Grace could reply, she added, “And do not think you can fool me. I taught you every spell you know.”
“I can’t!” Grace cried.
Entregon glanced behind, eyes narrowing at Kene before addressing her daughter once more. “You must.” She held out a hand, unperturbed when she met no reciprocation. “I can show you how.”
“No! Mother, you don’t understand. I can’t kill him—I can’t kill anyone.” Grace pleaded with her eyes, hoping desperately to see some small spark of empathy in her mother.
“The first time is always the hardest,” Entregon admitted, “but it will get easier. In time, you will even begin to enjoy it, the sweet taste of drinking another’s strength.”
It occurred to Grace that there was nothing she could say. Her mother was centuries old, and had been doing this just as long. For a moment, she wondered how she could truly be this woman’s daughter. Determination rose up within her. Slowly, she walked around Charles’s limp form, dropping to sit on the deck near his head. She slid her hands under his shoulders and pulled his head into her lap. His eyes were open, but he grimaced from the movement. “I won’t do it, Mother,” she stated firmly.
“Now is not the time for a rebellious streak,” Entregon warned. “This is not like your gallivanting around during the war. I cannot just give you a spanking and send you to your room.”
“I won’t do it,” Grace repeated.
Entregon turned on her heels and marched back to her own deck. Her hull rose ten feet in the water, allowing her to tower over her daughter once again. She stood still at the bow, staring down at her daughter. “Charleton LunaNocta Gaspris must die. If not by your hand, then by my own. If you do not kill him, then I cannot give you your heart. You will be as good as dead.”
“So be it!” Grace shouted.
“Grace!” Entregon screamed. “This is not a bluff.” Square panels, five feet by five feet, slid open on the front of the hull. From the darkness, two large cannons emerged, extending out before tilting to point directly at Charles and Grace. “If you do not kill him, I will be forced to fire upon you.”
“I don’t think your mom likes me,” Charles offered from Grace’s lap.
“Charles!” Grace cried. He didn’t move, just coughed. “No, I don’t think she does.”
“That’s going to make it hard to pursue a relationship,” he added with a chuckle.
The cannons began to glow with magic. Charles and Grace could both feel the heat already. “I half expected you to tell me to do it, to save myself at your expense.”
“I considered it,” Charles admitted, “but I didn’t want you to hit me again.”
“Good thinking,” Grace complimented.
“Grace!” Entregon screamed again. “This is your last chance. I will give you to the count of three. One.” The canons pulsed as a series of intricate runes alighted down each barrel. “Two.” The tips of each cannon turned a bright red.
Grace ran her fingers though Charles’s hair before dipping her face down low. “I’m glad I met you,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his own. She never heard three.
The cannons themselves made no noise as they fired. The scorching of air as pure magical force rushed forward roared like a hundred thunderclaps. The light was too bright to see, but the explosive force as it penetrated Grace’s deck was impossible to miss. In an instant, the cruise ship Grace had chosen to become was torn asunder. Metal and wood was sent flying for hundreds of yards in all directions. The rear third of the ship was the only piece that managed not to shatter, but it too was flipped completely over before splashing into the water.
Entregon remained unblemished despite the proximity. She had erected shields automatically, keeping the debris and steam from the now-superheated water at bay. One shot was enough. Already, she could feel almost no life-force from her daughter. As the rear section sank, she could feel even that small inkling of her child fade away.
“It is done then?” Kene asked, seemingly uninterested.
Entregon pushed her senses into the water. Charles’s energy had been lost momentarily in the blast, but now she could feel him, whatever was left, sinking fast. The lower his body sank, the less she could feel him. In seconds, he was all but gone. “Yes,” she answered stoically, “it is done.”
“I believe this is cause for celebration,” he replied, perking up. “Not that you need any more, but I have been authorized to give you several commendations once you completed the job.”
“Save them,” Entregon retorted. “Now, the heart.”
Kene spun the object on his finger once again, “Yes, quite the trinket. Very valuable, I hear.”
“It is the heart of my daughter. It belongs to me. Do not make me ask again.”
Kene held up his hands for peace. “I do not intend to keep it from you. But I feel the need to inform you of a new situation.”
Entregon narrowed her eyes. “Speak.”
“It seems there has been a small commotion onshore. One of my small outposts has gone silent.” He stopped speaking to offer an enticing smile.
“I assume you are going to tell me why I should care,” Entregon hissed.
“The regent implied the rest of the crew was dropped off somewhere before he found your daughter. I would hazard to guess they are responsible for this sudden loss of communication. It is not far from here.”
Entregon turned her head sharply, eliciting a loud crack from her neck. “I do not care about the crew, even less so if they have made landfall.”
“Of course, of course,” Kene agreed. “I am merely requesting that you drop me off.”
“I was hired for a job, which has now been completed. My agreement was to leave you on Wolfe Island, where I have other business to attend.” Entregon stared at the heart in the man’s hand, willing herself not to snatch it and throw him overboard.
“I am afraid I must insist,” Kene replied seriously. He had raised himself to his full height, all trappings of nonchalance gone from his posture. When Entregon did not immediately respond, he took an aggressive step forward, glaring into her eyes.
Entregon was not one to be intimidated in the worst of cases. That this child suddenly thought himself her equal, much less her superior, was grating on her nerves. “I do not take orders from you, boy.”
The man’s right eye twitched uncomfortably as he spoke. “As of the moment Charleton died, I am now a member of the inner circl
e. The lesser fey may fear you, but I do not.”
“That is a particularly stupid thing to say while you stand on my deck,” Entregon warned. She pointed to the deck below his feet and watched anger alight the man’s face when he recognized nested rings of runes surrounding him. “I do not care what your title is. I want that heart, and I want it now.”
Kene stared at the runes below in disgust. He doubted she would really attack him, he wasn’t some insect that couldn’t fight back. But he was livid that she would not acknowledge his position. He held the heart in his palm, and considered crushing it just to spite her. That might actually cause her to do something reckless, though, and so he thought better of it. She just didn’t believe yet, he figured. Once the ceremonies were complete, things would be different. He let the anger drain from his body.
“I never expected you to be so sentimental,” he added sarcastically, tossing the heart to her feet.
Entregon caught the heart before it could touch down, caressing it. “Do not confuse wanting what is mine with some soft emotion.” She turned away from Kene, the runes on her deck disappearing. “I will take you to shore, now leave me.”
Kene swallowed the biting comments about who was really in charge and took his time sauntering to the nearest doorway. Entregon waited until he was inside and fully out of sight before kneeling on the deck. The metal beneath her feet shimmered and rippled, and she dropped the heart inside. She strode across the deck to stand at the bow. As the heart worked its way through her and settled into place, a tear suddenly formed in her eye. She reached out one hand toward the water, while her other hand curled into a fist over her chest. For the first time in centuries, the dull ache was gone and she could feel the sea.
◆◆◆
If he squinted, Barclay could just make out the shining spire of the regent’s castle in the morning light. It was a constant reminder of how little they had moved and how impossibly far they still needed to go. The regent had warned him that the distance wouldn’t be what he was expecting.
