“Good morning.”
I gasped and nearly tripped as I jumped back. “Don’t do that,” I hissed, glaring at him.
In the purplish-gray light, Xander’s lips twitched. “Sorry.”
The shadows cast by the high windows accentuated the hard planes of his jawline and shoulders. At least he’d put on a shirt this time which meant I had some chance at thinking straight.
Slowly, I made my way across the room and sank onto the couch. He watched me from where he sat in the large armchair, one leg crossed over the other. A large, thick book was balanced in his lap, its pages frayed at the corners from age.
“Did you sleep all right?” he asked.
“I guess.” This time it was me not meeting his eyes. I didn’t really want this “morning after” awkwardness, but after my conversation with Peter, everything felt weird again. “What about you?”
“Not really,” he admitted.
My eyes flicked to his and then away again. I focused on the book in his lap. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Research.” If he picked up on my discomfort, he didn’t mention it. “This book is an old account of the dark magic users once caught and detained for harmful spell-casting.”
“Like a log of criminal magicians?” I asked, scooting forward to look more closely at the page he’d left it open to.
“Sort of. Your parents were meticulous about records and especially about dark magic since it became such a problem in those last years before it was banned and then removed. I think they wanted proof about why they removed it so that its misuse could never happen again.”
“Does it offer any ideas about our problem?” I asked, peering over the edge of the chair’s arm to see for myself.
“Maybe.” He slid the book over so I could get a better look at it. All the words were in Zorovian and only a few jumped out at me, none of them helpful. In the bottom corner was a rough drawing of a figure with four arms and a black mask over its face caught in the middle of some sort of dance. “This is the Ngili.”
“What the heck is a Ngili?” I asked.
“According to the judicial record, he was a Zorovian who lived a century ago before he was executed for the murder of the ruling emperor.”
“He killed an emperor?” I asked. “How? I thought dark magic was too powerful to be wielded by a mortal.”
“No one knows how he acquired the abilities he had, though some suspected he made a deal with Darkness itself in order to stand up to the weight of the magic.”
I looked up and our eyes met. “They say Tharos is Darkness incarnated,” I said, quoting the origin story Peter always told.
Xander nodded as if he’d heard that a thousand times already. “I know. Wherever he got it, the Ngili continued to develop his magic and eventually learned how to kill with it. For a long time he used his magic on our enemies and was the emperor’s protector. But eventually he started to crave more. The Royal Guard found him standing over the dead emperor and attacked and killed him.”
“What makes you think this could be our guy?” I asked.
“This.” Xander pointed at the faded writing. “After he was executed, the Royal Guard searched his home and found a stone circle cast complete with dead animals inside.”
“Just like the ones you found at those campsites,” I said. My gaze snapped back to his. “Do you think whoever this is made a deal with Darkness?”
I couldn’t help the small ribbon of fear that snaked through me as I pictured it. Someone—one of our own people—actually reaching toward Tharos and his black hole of power.
Xander shook his head, his blue eyes hard as ice and just as cold. “I don’t know, but I can promise you we’re going to find out.”
Silence fell between us. I couldn’t bring myself to look away from him, too lost in the bottomless pool beneath his eyes. Rage was there, plain to see, tightly reined. But there was also concern and care and the desire that had been between us last night. He didn’t voice or act on any of it, and I knew that he still clung to what he’d said last night.
This responsibility.
I understood it now more than ever.
And unlike last night, I didn’t try to push it aside.
“Did you find something?”
We both straightened and looked away as Peter walked in, his hair wet from the shower. His clothes were different. A robe over a light shirt and loose pants with sandals. He looked more relaxed.
“Where did you get those?” I asked, eyeing the simple fabric.
“Eamon found them for me,” he said, smoothing his robe. “It’s what I wore before…back home.”
“It suits you,” I said, glad the only clothes provided for me were form-fitting pants and shirts with breathable fabric that made it easy to move in.
“As does yours,” he said, nodding at my new pants and boots. “What did you find?” he asked Xander before I could answer. “Anything useful?”
Xander quickly filled him in on the Ngili and handed the book over. Peter took it, reading the Zorovian scrawl quickly. When he looked up again, his expression was some combination of horror and scholarly interest. It was so Peter, I almost smiled—until I remembered what we were actually discussing.
“I think you’re on to something here,” Peter said.
Xander nodded. “I’d almost forgotten about the book. Jalene gave it to me along with the list of everyone who took part in the night wars game last night.”
“Have you spoken to Eamon about this?” Peter asked.
“No. I waited for you,” he said.
“We should go now. We can’t afford to wait on this,” Peter said.
Xander nodded. Then his gaze flicked to me. “What’s it going to take for you to stay here?”
“You’re not serious right now,” I began.
“If you go with us, people will notice,” he said. “After what happened last night, we don’t want to alert whoever is messing with you that you understand what’s happening.”
“Xander’s right,” Peter said, marking the page before closing the book. “There is an advantage in letting our suspect think he’s gone unnoticed.”
“How is that an advantage?” I asked, preparing for an all-out argument. No way were they leaving me out of this.
But Xander and Peter exchanged a long look.
Xander responded quietly, “Because then he will try again.”
I stared at him and then at Peter, surprised they were both okay with that strategy. “You both understand that means we’ll be using me as bait,” I said slowly. Just in case.
But they both nodded. “Given the circumstances, it would be impossible to contain the fact that someone is after you while also confining you for the duration.”
They exchanged a second look that suggested they weren’t thrilled with the reality of what they were saying—but they’d accepted it.
“So, if I stay out of this meeting, you’ll agree that I can come and go from the house. You’re not going to try to lock me up or something?”
“Within reason,” Peter said, sounding more and more like the overprotective guardian I knew.
I looked at Peter. “I want to know everything that happens at the meeting,” I said. Before he could answer, I turned to Xander and added, “And I want to start combat training.”
“I’ll talk to Tyson this afternoon. He’s—”
“No, not with the Zorovians,” I said.
“Then who?” Xander began.
“The wolves.”
His eyes widened, and he started to shake his head. “I don’t think—”
“I want to be clear,” I said, rising to my feet to drive my point home and looking at them both. “I’m choosing to sit the meeting out because it’s the best strategy, not because you told me to. And I’m going to train with the wolves every day from now on until I can beat them all in a weaponless fight. You can set it up or I can go to Eamon directly, but either way, that’s what I’m doing.
“I�
�ve sat around and taken orders long enough whether for my own safety or because I believed others knew best for me.” My eyes flicked to Peter and then away again before I could let myself feel guilty for asserting my authority.
Instead, I looked at Xander and forced myself to hold his gaze without getting lost in it. “It’s time I began making my own decisions. Consider this the first of many because I plan to take my throne back very, very soon. And no one—not a dark mage with a vendetta or an oracle or anyone else—is going to stand in my way.”
By the time I was done, my heart was pounding. Getting into some sort of standoff with the people I cared about most was the last thing I wanted to do, but I wasn’t going to sit around being bulldozed either. Xander needed to know that now. And I needed to know if he was going to fight me on it.
But instead of snapping back, he nodded and rose.
Peter rose too, and they both headed for the door. “We’ll let you know how it goes,” Peter said.
I watched in surprised silence as they walked out. My shoulders sagged a bit as I realized they weren’t going to argue with me. In fact, neither one had shown much of a reaction at all to my pronouncement.
At the door, Xander paused and turned back, the weight of his gaze rooting me where I stood. “I want you to know that I support you in this,” he said in a scratchy voice. “And I have no intention of keeping you from your throne. I don’t want it. I’ve never wanted it. I only want—”
He broke off and my breath caught.
I took a step toward him but his eyes blazed brightly enough that I stopped, unsure if I had enough to give of whatever he was asking for.
“The throne is yours to take whenever you want it. I don’t want to stand in your way. You should know I’ve always stood beside you. I always will.”
“I…”
Words stuck in my throat.
Tears burned my eyes until my vision blurred and Xander’s face became a fuzzy outline against the backdrop of the half-open door. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. Partly because of how much he cared. But mostly because he so clearly saw me—saw how big my future was—and had no intention of trying to make it smaller.
“I have to go, but whatever you need,” he said, “I’m here.”
He stared at me for another beat and then he was gone.
The front door clicked shut behind him and I was alone. But for the first time in a long time, I also knew I would never be lonely again.
Chapter Eighteen
The house felt excitingly empty. I wondered if my speech had really made so much of an impact that they’d actually left me to fend for myself. Curious, I poked my head out the front door. A large wolf lay sprawled across the threshold, his head resting on his paws. He sat up and looked at me. “Morning, your highness,” he said in a voice that would have been formal if not for all the growling involved. “Can I help you?”
“No, I just wanted to see if you need anything,” I said.
“Nope, I’m all good, but thanks.”
“Okay, well… Keep up the good work.”
He growled something that sounded like agreement, and I shut the door. I had a babysitter after all.
Back inside, I ate the rest of the casserole and then thumbed through the history book Xander had left behind. Some of the words were familiar just based on the bits I’d committed to memory, but most of it was gibberish. I should have asked Xander about the language lessons again. Or something to read in English. At this rate, sitting around was going to kill me long before dark magic or even Tharos did.
An unexpected knock at the front door made me jump. I left the book open and slid it aside and then hurried to the door and pulled it open.
The wolf from earlier was sitting up now, allowing space for the visitor. Beside him stood Jalene.
“Hey,” she said, smiling brightly when she saw me.
Her hair was out of its ponytail today and hung loose around her shoulders. It swayed against the silky fabric of her silver blouse. Black pants and boots completed the look, and though the outfit was simple enough, it caught my attention. No one else I’d seen so far had been put together quite this nicely.
It made me wonder where they got their clothes in the first place. I hadn’t exactly come across a mall in my explorations yesterday, but even my own wardrobe seemed well made.
“Hi.” I smiled back, genuinely glad to see her and not just in response to my own boredom. My brief encounter with Jalene had been a good one, my brush with death notwithstanding. I liked her. “What’s up?”
She shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood. Mind if I come in?”
“Sure.” I stepped back to let her enter. After a quick thanks to my wolf guard, I shut the door and followed her inside.
“So, how’s your ankle?” she asked, dropping onto the couch.
“Much better today,” I said. “Still bruised, but the soreness is nearly gone. I’m actually wondering if there was something in that casserole Xander’s mom sent over.”
“You never know,” she said way too seriously. Then she glanced over at the book where it lay open beside her and her eyes widened. She made a grab for it, pulling it onto her lap. “The Ngili,” she said, reading the page quickly before glancing up at me. “Is this what attacked you last night?”
I sank into the chair beside her. “Xander and Peter think so.”
Her brows shot up. “If that’s the case, I’m guessing the wolf outside isn’t to keep the paparazzi off the lawn.”
“Not exactly.”
She grimaced. “Which means I’ve been played.”
“I had a feeling Xander sent you.”
“Trust me, he’ll live to regret it,” she said, and I had no doubt whatsoever that she meant it. Every interaction I’d seen between them so far suggested a closeness that I’d only ever dreamt of. I’d had a friendship with Kate, but Xander and Jalene were like family. The only thing missing was the shared DNA.
I wondered if I’d ever had that with anyone—before…
“Okay, manipulation revenge can wait.” Jalene tapped the page with the picture on it. “I have to ask what makes them think this is our guy.”
“Well…” I hesitated.
Xander had warned me against telling anyone else what we knew. But I also had the distinct feeling none of that applied to Jalene. My gut told me she wasn’t a threat—and I was learning quickly to rely on feelings like that. “The ritual sites described in the book match the ones Xander found,” I said.
“Ritual sites? Here on Bardawulf?” Her eyes widened. “He didn’t tell me that.”
I winced. “Which is why maybe you can keep it to yourself that I’m telling you now?”
She pursed her lips, assessing me shrewdly. “All right,” she said. “Because you’re trusting me with this and because that’s something I can respect considering you don’t remember shit about me I’ll agree to that. For now.”
“Thank you.” I let out the breath I’d been holding and sat back, crossing my legs more comfortably as I settled in. This felt good. Making a friend. Trusting someone.
It reminded me of Kate—except that Jalene already knew a thousand more things about me than Kate ever would. But knowing them might also get her killed. It was a trade-off I’d have to live with.
“But you better believe Xander has it coming when all of this is over. We don’t keep secrets from each other. Not like this,” she finished.
I nodded. “You guys are close. I can see that.”
“Not just us. We’re a trio, remember,” she said, and I blinked. “Right. Memory loss. Never mind.” She shook her head at my confused expression and let it drop. “But what does this Ngili want with you?”
I could have asked her to explain, but I didn’t. Telling someone they were your friend didn’t have nearly the same effect on a person as building an actual history together. Until I could do that, unfortunately, none of my past relationships were going to matter.
“Well,” I
said, “According to the story, the original Ngili had a thirst for power that led to the murder of an emperor. I think this copycat might very well be driven by the same thing.”
“Goddess,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Not very original, is he?”
“Total copycat,” I agreed.
“And how the hell does this impersonator manage to wield dark magic without killing himself, anyway?”
“Xander thinks he might be getting his magic from Tharos himself.”
“Oh.” Jalene’s eyes widened, and she nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense. He’s the only thing powerful enough to wield its full force. But that doesn’t explain last night. It’s not like Tharos was in that field with us.”
“No.” I bit my lip, trying again to make sense of it. “I know Xander said the shield over the planet hides us from him, and he can’t enter the atmosphere without our knowing. But is it possible for him to communicate with someone who’s here?”
Jalene frowned. “I don’t know. I mean, there’s no way for them to—Ohhhh. Unless they had magic.” She blinked at me, clearly thinking through the possibilities that had just dawned on her. “Well, shit cakes.”
“That about sums it up,” I agreed.
Jalene’s gaze sharpened as she studied me.
“What?” I asked when she didn’t say anything.
She blinked and her expression softened. “Sorry, I was just trying to imagine what it was like,” she said, her voice gentle with understanding. “It can’t have been easy growing up on your own—away from all of us. I mean, I know you couldn’t remember us, but still. You had to hide. All those years. Did you have any friends at all?”
“I…” Tears welled, and I blinked them back, horrified how easily she’d struck a nerve.
“Sorry.” She shook her head, ducking away to give me time to compose myself. “I didn’t mean to… You don’t have to talk about it.”
“No, it’s fine,” I assured her, swiping at my eyes.
“Seriously,” Jalene said, leaning in. “I sometimes forget to think before I speak, so you can tell me to shut up if I get to be a nosy asshole.”
I laughed. “Duly noted. Although, considering my lack of social interaction up until now, I wouldn’t know the difference between nosy asshole and concerned friend.”
The Girl Who Called The Stars Page 18
