by H. D. Gordon
He’d said, “You must be strong now, son. You have my word that this does not mark the end of the Gray line. You will carry on your father’s name someday, and someday after that, your children will carry it on. This is not the end of things for you. It’s just the beginning.”
Theo’s heart swelled with pain and hurt and love, as it always did when he recalled this particular memory.
King Syrian had been good to his word, practically raising Theo as his own, making sure he received the best of magical instruction and education, and even giving him his own permanent quarters in the castle.
When Theo had come of age, the king had knighted him quickly, and given him a position with the Hunters. It hadn’t taken long before Syrian had promoted him to Head Hunter.
Just before he’d succumbed to the poison and fallen into a coma, he’d promised Theo his daughter’s hand if he could manage to rescue Surah from Black Heart.
But that hadn’t worked out, and it was all because of that common piece of trash Redmine.
And now…
Now, he was thinking terrible things. Things that, if carried out unsuccessfully, could strip him of his position and standing with the king, whom he loved very much.
But, today, as he stood looking down at the king’s pale face, at his closed eyes and shallow breaths, the love he’d once had was underscored with a deep feeling of betrayal and hurt, like a knife in his heart that just kept twisting and twisting, tearing him up from the inside out.
His head tilted, and his cold gray eyes went to the piece of White Stone hanging around the king’s neck, resting like a diamond on his wide chest.
The king’s piece of White Stone was the largest. The second largest had belonged to the queen, who was long passed, and her stone was likely in some secret place only the king knew about. Next were the three stones that belonged to King Syrian’s children; Syra, Syris, and Surah. Syra’s stone had been lost in the war, and Theo assumed Syrian’s was hidden away with the Queen’s.
As Head Hunter, Theo had his own piece, but it was hardly bigger than a pearl, and allowed him to teleport and use other more complicated magic that was not accessible without one.
Magic was in the blood of every Sorcerer and Sorceress—some more so than others—so simple spells were practiced by all. But the stone resting on King Syrian’s chest was a source of power greater than Theo could ever imagine yielding, and even now, he knew it was working to speed the healing process of its owner.
It never left its place around the king’s neck. But, perhaps…
He touched the thing he’d slipped into his pocket before coming to the king’s chambers, indecision falling over him. It was such a rare thing for him that he felt his heartbeat pick up and his palms become sweaty.
Reaching into his pocket, he removed the diamond he’d brought and stared down at it, his eyes flipping to the king’s stone and back again, comparing their likeness.
They were about the same size and shape… almost identical save for the fact that one held Magic, and the other did not.
His thoughts turned dark again as he stood indecisive, like a switch being flipped inside his soul.
If he were being honest, he wasn’t entirely sure Charlie Redmine was responsible for the murders of two Highborn women, or the capture of the princess.
Somehow, that didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that everyone was guilty of something, and he was going to make sure Redmine paid in full for his indiscretions. And the princess…
Well, he would decide how to deal with her when the time came.
But to do that, he needed to make sure he was in the position to be making those kind of decisions. With the king out of commission, and his daughter missing—Theo refused to think of her absence in terms of her assisted escape of Redmine—the throne was left open and weak.
As Head Hunter, he was technically in charge. He smiled at this thought.
No, it was his duty to be in charge. For the good of the kingdom. For the princess’s own good, even if she couldn’t see it yet.
Before he could second-guess himself, he reached down and removed the stone from its holding place on the chain around the king’s neck and replaced it with the diamond. His heart was racing faster than a prize horse now. He stared down at the royal stone in his hand and closed his fingers over it, feeling its power flood through him.
Then his eyes flicked back to the king, and he couldn’t help the bit of guilt that flooded through him.
The difference in the king wasn’t very obvious, it was just a small change that represented his loss of the stone. Theo doubted anyone would notice.
After all, so few were even allowed in the king’s chambers while he was in such a condition.
Theo leaned down and kissed the king on his clammy forehead, the look in his gray eyes somehow colder than it had been yesterday.
Resolved.
“For you, my king,” he whispered. “I will set things to rights in the kingdom. I will capture and kill Black Heart and his worthless brother. I will save Surah from her own mistakes. You just rest a while longer. When you wake, it will be a whole new world for us.”
He left then, a wicked smile on his face that stole whatever beauty had been left there.
Chapter 7
Surah
Surah awoke to the smell of roasting meat, her stomach growling even as she swam up to consciousness.
She sat up and suffered a moment of panic as she couldn’t remember where she was.
Then, she turned her head and saw Charlie crouched in front of the fireplace, his back to her, a pan and spatula in his hand, sizzling and cracking.
He didn’t turn to face her, but his head tilted slightly and he said, “Hungry?”
She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and pulled her boots on, running her hands quickly through her hair, hoping it wasn’t a lavender mess atop her head.
“Starved, actually.” She went over to the table and took a seat.
He slipped whatever was in the pan on a plate and set it in front of her. The smell of cooked meat floated up to her, and her stomach growled again. She looked down at the plate and her mouth fell open.
Charlie chuckled at her expression. “What?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. It looks great… Where’d you get this stuff?”
On the plate was an omelet with tomatoes and spinach wrapped inside.
Charlie gestured to the night outside the window. “I know it isn’t a proper dinner, but I figured you might want breakfast since you slept all day. I took the eggs from a nest I found, and thought you might like those more than the rabbit I caught. The spinach and the tomatoes have been growing out back for years, and we just happen to have come when they’re in season. There’s other stuff out there, too. Onion, green beans, squash… If you don’t like it I could hunt up something else.”
Surah wasn’t aware of it but a small smile had formed on her lips. Would this man ever stop surprising her? He was a musician, a bar owner, a painter… the brother of a homicidal maniac, and now, a farmer and chef.
She knew men in the kingdom who couldn’t even wash their own clothes if asked, and women who couldn’t fix their own hair.
She wondered not for the first time if all commoners were so self-sufficient, or if that was just something Charlie practiced.
Because she was a princess, and had received trainings over the years in everything from knot tying to hunting to etiquette and horseback riding, she could be quite self-efficient herself. This was not the case with most royals, however, and living amongst primarily Highborns her entire life had made her lazy.
“This is perfect,” she said, when she realized he was still waiting for an answer. “Thank you.”
Charlie sat down across from her and gave a half smile that never failed to flip her stomach. If he kept doing that, she might not even be able to eat.
“My pleasure,” he said. “We have to keep our strength up… for everything that’s a
head.”
Surah paused with a bite midway to her mouth. Like that, her good mood was gone, and all the troubles of her life came crashing back over her.
“What is ahead, Charlie?”
He was silent for a moment, studying her with his emerald eyes. He nodded toward her plate. “Eat first.”
She finished her food quickly. Then, she raised her eyebrows. “Now?”
He smirked. “Now is fine, my lady. Unless you want me to go steal more bird eggs for you.”
“I’ve had my fill, thank you, and they were delicious, by the way.”
His smile grew. “Of course they were. I made them.”
She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “Are you done telling me I should leave?” she asked, and waited until he gave a small nod, that guarded look passing over his face again. She stopped her eyes from rolling. “Good. Then we need a plan.”
“There’s an understatement.” He stood from his chair and held a hand out to her. “Let’s take a walk. It helps me think.”
She placed her hand in his, noticing for the first time she was not wearing her gloves. When their fingers touched, she was glad for it. He seemed to be in a much better mood than before.
“Hold on a second,” she said, and went over to the bed, where she’d left her cloak. She slung it over her shoulders, fastening the top of it around her neck.
When she turned back to him, he was grinning. “It’s still pretty warm out.”
“I know,” she said, and flipped the cloak to the side, revealing some of the weapons hidden in the folds. “It’s not for warmth. It’s for protection.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Ah, so if a demon flies out of the forest, you can slay it while I scream and run for safety?”
She smiled. “Something like that, though you don’t strike me as the running and screaming type.”
One side of his mouth pulled up. “Oh, I don’t know. I could be.”
She laughed and took his hand again when he offered it, wondering at the way he seemed able to make light of any situation. They stepped out of the cabin together, and Surah’s breath caught in her throat as she looked up at the sky.
Out here, where there was little to no light pollution, every star overhead was visible in full force, like tiny diamonds scattered across a black blanket. No clouds obscured their shine, and a quarter moon did little to compete with them.
The two of them began walking, and Surah slid her arm through his elbow out of habit, but for possibly the first time in her life, she didn’t mind being escorted around. It seemed none of the things that normally bothered her applied when it came to Charlie.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while before she remembered there was a task at hand. Or several tasks, depending on how you looked at it.
“Let’s start with what we know,” she began. “Theodine Gray is no doubt searching for us, and I’d bet all my silver that he wants you dead. No hearing. No trial. Just dead, and he’s got all the Hunters at his disposal to make that happen.”
“I don’t get why that man hates me,” Charlie said matter-of-factly, as if this did not concern him, and his mind was elsewhere. “I get the feeling this is all very personal to him.”
He’s in love with me, Surah wanted to say, but did not.
As if he could read her mind, he asked, “Have the two of you ever…?”
Surah’s face scrunched up. “Of course not,” she said.
One of Charlie’s brows rose. “Have you told him that?”
She decided not to dignify this with an answer. “We need to figure out what Blac—what your brother’s next move is,” she said instead.
Charlie looked like it pained him to agree. “He wants the throne, and knowing Michael, he’ll do anything to get it.”
“I need to sneak back into the castle and be with my father,” she said. “I need to warn him.”
Charlie sighed.
“But you can’t come with me,” she remembered.
“Not unless I want to end up right back in the dungeons.”
Surah nodded. “It’s decided, then. You stay here, and I’ll go back.”
“You sure it’s safe? After what Hunter Gray saw us doing?”
“Samson is at the castle,” Surah said. “I’d love to see anyone stand against me with him by my side.”
Charlie nodded slowly. “Just be careful, princess.”
“Of course,” Surah said, and allowed him to steer her back toward the cabin.
When they got there they stopped beside the small fire pit dug out in front of the cabin. Surah snapped her fingers, and a healthy flame appeared there. She was stalling. She knew she needed to go, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so just yet.
“Are you afraid?” he asked her, his deep voice hardly a whisper.
Surah continued to stare into the flames, causing licks of orange to flash in her violet eyes.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I’m afraid for my father, and the kingdom as well. The throne is vulnerable while my father is still healing and I’m not there to rule in his stead. Who knows what your brother is planning? Who knows what Theo is planning? He could smother my father in his chambers, and I’m not sure anyone would ever suspect him of it. As Head Hunter, right now, he’s kind of holding the reins.”
She looked over at Charlie, and his face was so beautifully lit by the flames of the fire that she had to stop herself from reaching out and running her fingers over it. He waited patiently for her to continue.
“I can’t really be sure of anything anymore, Charlie, but I do know this, a throne left untended is like a dinner bell to the wolves. You want to know what I’m afraid of? That’s a big part of it… However this ends, wherever this is going, it’s going to affect a lot of people. Innocent people. I can feel that in my blood.” She paused. “I just hope whatever role I play isn’t one that causes heartache and pain. There’s enough of that in the world.”
Charlie was silent for a long time, and she knew without checking that his eyes had gone inward again, looking at whatever memories lived there. After a while, he surprised her by scooting closer and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
The weight of it was comfortably heavy and warm, like a thick blanket in the heart of the cold season. She felt safe under his arm, something that held her, but also gave her freedom, a place where the mask she always wore was not a necessity.
Charlie seemed content as well, and they fell silent for a good length of time, the only sounds the cracking of the fire and the chirps of the night bugs.
After an indeterminable time, Charlie rubbed his hand down his jaw and looked down at her where she was still tucked under his arm, her cloak draped around her, a small night breeze stirring back her hair.
“You know what I think?” he asked.
She pulled her eyes from the flames and looked up at him. “Tell me.”
Charlie’s gaze went skyward, and he let out a long breath. “I think whatever’s coming is going to come, and we’ll just do our best to deal with it when it does.”
His lips were so close to hers it was hard to think straight. She could feel her heart beating in her throat. The smell of burning wood and Charlie surrounded her, tall trees on all sides shielding them from the world while reaching up to a deep, black night sky.
The stars looked down on them, as if the whole universe was audience to their moment.
She hoped like hell it would not be a tragedy.
His hand slipped into her hair as their lips finally came together, and the universe slipped away as if sucked into a black hole that left nothing but her and Charlie.
And then something awful happened.
Chapter 8
Surah
Surah gasped and jerked forward, her hand flying up and clenching into a fist around the piece of White Stone that had gone red-hot against her skin.
She yanked the chain that held it off her neck and let it dangle from her hand as she leaned forward, her stomach tuc
ked against her thighs, panting for breath.
Her heart was pounding out of her chest, not in the good way that Charlie caused, but in a nearly painful might-break-her-ribcage kind of way. She groaned as involuntary tears sprang from her eyes. It felt as though something very essential was being ripped out of her.
Beside her, Charlie gave a deep groan of pain as well, and Surah blinked over at him through blurry eyes to see that he was doubled over as well, his jaw clenched and the muscles on the sides of his neck bulging, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“What in the name of the Gods is happening?” he asked, gritting out each word between clenched teeth.
Surah squeezed her eyes shut, deciding it was best not to speak until this thing passed. She’d never felt anything quite like it, but she thought that it was fading a bit, the worst of it having passed when it first slammed into her. She looked over to see Charlie recovering as well.
After a few more moments, the ripping sensation and pain subsided completely, and both of them were left gasping for air.
“What was that?” Charlie asked again, after he’d caught his breath.
Surah shook her head. “I don’t know, but I feel… different. I’m tired all of a sudden, and my stomach is queasy, but that’s not all. I just… I feel different.” She looked over at him, her violet eyes wide. “You?”
Charlie nodded his agreement. “Same. I feel it, too. What does it mean?”
Surah held up her sister’s piece of White Stone by its chain, wary of touching it after the way it had burned so hot a moment ago.
She licked the tip of her pointer finger and gave the stone a poke, wincing when it sizzled a little at the touch.
She studied it closely and poked it again a moment later. It swung to and fro on its chain. It had gone from red-hot to dead cold.
Colder than she had ever known a magical stone to be.
A thought occurred to her then, and she was so horrified for a moment that she couldn’t bear to test her theory.
