by Talia Vance
He twirls a large sword with one hand. “We’ll make a warrior out of you yet.”
I try to lift one of the giant swords, but it takes two hands and all my strength just to pick it up off the ground. “Shouldn’t we go with something a little lighter?”
“You’ll learn to appreciate the weight. It will give you the momentum you need to strike.”
I try swinging it like a baseball bat. I nearly fall forward.
Austin laughs. “First you need to find a stance.” He bends his knees slightly, spreading his feet to shoulder width. “Try it again.”
Blake comes up the stone path from the house. “Have you lost your mind, Montgomery?” His left arm is in a sling, but otherwise he appears to have survived his run-in with Jonah just fine.
Austin stands up straight. “You would prefer Brianna lie down and wait to die?”
I let the tip of my sword fall to the ground. Even the sunshine can’t mask Blake’s pale complexion. His eyes are dark and sad.
“Of course not. You need to get her out of here before the Gathering. Everyone could see that she’s defenseless.” Blake finally looks at me. “What happened? Did he do something to you?”
“No.” I lift the sword again. I may not have magic, but I’m not defenseless.
Austin steps forward. “She paid a high price for your life.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Blake glares at Austin, much more comfortable in the role of aggressor. “You’re the one who put my life in danger in the first place.”
Austin rolls his eyes. “The bond put your life in danger. And hers. Emotions are closely linked to the soul, and being forced to feel someone else’s blackest thoughts twenty-four seven will take its toll. Eventually one soul will dominate the other. You would have grown to resent each other more than you cared for each other.”
Is what Austin says true? Would I have started to feel Blake’s emotions more than my own? Or vice versa? When we were bonded, there were times when our emotions bled together until I didn’t know if what I was feeling was mine or his. Times when his emotions were stronger than mine, but that was usually when Blake believed in me and I didn’t.
Blake believed in me.
I push the thought away. It doesn’t matter now. Blake may have thought he believed in me once, but he didn’t trust me. Not when it mattered. Somewhere along the way he stopped loving me. I set down the sword and put my hand on Austin’s shoulder. “Can you give me a few minutes?”
Austin nods, but he throws his sword on the ground with more force than is necessary. “I’ll be just inside.”
I wait until Austin is gone before I look at Blake again, taking in the shadows that ring his eyes. “Are you okay?”
I’ve caught him off guard. The vein on his neck throbs in response to my question. “Me?”
“You’ve looked better.”
“I’m fine.” Blake says the words like a petulant child. He lifts the arm in the sling. “Just a flesh wound. It’s you I’m worried about. What happened to your power?”
“I guess there’s a price for bringing someone back from the dead.”
He stares back at the house. “He was right then. You paid a high price. This is his fault.”
“Blake, it’s not.” Austin thought he was protecting me, but I was the one who sent the ball of fire that killed Blake. “I’m the one who killed you.”
When Blake finally turns back to me, his eyes are softer. “You shouldn’t have saved me.”
“Of course I should have. I would do it again. Blake, I—” I stop myself from saying I loved him. It doesn’t matter now. “I would never let you die if I knew I could save you.”
Neither one of us says anything for a few minutes. We stand a few feet apart, but there may as well be oceans separating us.
“We can’t stop the war from coming,” Blake finally says.
“So we fight.”
“You’re bringing a knife to a magic fight?” Blake’s first hint of a smile.
“I was pushing for automatic weapons, but Austin said that the broadsword is the weapon of choice when it comes to battling demigods. Go figure.”
“He’s taking care of you?” He doesn’t hide the pain behind the words. Blake is hurt? He left me. He bonded with Portia.
“We’re taking care of each other.” I don’t say the words to hurt Blake. I just need for him to understand that I am with Austin by choice. On my terms.
“Then leave. Get as far away as you can. If he loves you, he won’t let you anywhere near the Gathering.”
“If he loves me, he’ll let me make my own decisions.”
Blake picks up one of the broadswords with his good arm and throws it as far as he can. It sails over the grass, over the edge of the bluff, dropping into the sea. “The Sons don’t trust you, Brianna.”
“And you do?” Since when?
He ignores my question. “They’ll kill you without a second thought. I won’t be able to stop them.”
I walk to where Austin’s broadsword lays on the grass. I pick it up with both hands and slash at the air. “I won’t go down without a fight.”
“Either way, you end up dead.”
“Why are you here?”
The shadows under Blake’s eyes grow darker. “I wish I knew.” He turns and walks back toward the house. He doesn’t look back.
THIRTY-NINE
After Blake leaves, I don’t go into the house. I walk to the barn. Malcolm automatically moves toward Panda, but I take the brush box from his hand and wave him away. The next half hour goes by peacefully, as I brush Panda until her dark coat gleams.
When I’m done, I ask Mick to take me into town. He looks skeptical, but I remind him that I’m not a prisoner here and he finally relents. I text Braden on the way. If Austin and I are going to survive, we need allies. Or at least fewer opponents.
Braden meets me at the little bakery with the layered tea cakes. “What happened to laying low?”
I don’t bother with small talk. I need to make sure the fuath don’t fight against us. “Is it true that the fuath are aligned with Liam?”
Braden wipes a yellow crumb from the corner of his lip with his thumb. “We’re weighing our options.”
“The Seventh Daughters are outnumbered. My money’s on the Sons.”
“Are you here to recruit me? Cause I was kind of enjoying the lack of strings in our friendship.”
“I’m not recruiting you. I’m trying to convince you to stay out of it.”
Braden grins. “Because you don’t want to see me get hurt?”
“Because I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
“Aw, you actually mean that.”
“Stop sucking on my emotions.”
“It’s not like I can turn it off. Wait. You’re worrying about hurting me if I align with you? That doesn’t even make sense.”
I don’t say anything.
Braden’s eyes widen as he works out the answer himself. “You’re not going to fight with Liam.” The statement hangs in the air. Braden doesn’t need me to affirm it. He can feel my conviction. “Well, aren’t you the rebel?”
The fuath can’t seriously be considering fighting with Liam. I choose my words carefully. “Do you really trust Liam to keep his word?”
Braden shrugs. “Don’t mistake our lack of involvement for weakness. We survived alongside the gods before, and we’ll do so again if necessary.”
“Why’ve you stayed underground all this time?”
“We prefer not to be hunted.”
I can’t argue with his logic. “Liam doesn’t seem like the type to sit around and wait.”
“Liam wouldn’t wait if he thought he could win now. He’s waiting for the day the sunset coincides with the changing of the tides.” Braden takes a long sip of tea, as if it’s no big deal that he’s just given me the exact date of the Gathering. Even knowing that I don’t intend to fight with Liam. Braden looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Your boyfriend’s here.”
It’s a few seconds before Austin enters the bakery and slides into an empty seat at our table. He doesn’t acknowledge Braden. “Have you talked to Joe?”
“No. Should I have?”
“He’s looking for you.” Austin reaches for one of the tea cakes in front of me. “You should’ve told me you were coming into town. I would’ve come with you.”
Braden takes the cake Austin had been reaching for, popping it in his mouth in one bite. “Well, isn’t this interesting?”
“What?”
“The immortal god is afraid.”
“I’m not a fool. You of all people should feel the rising storm.”
“Oh I feel it. But since when are you afraid of it? It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I don’t miss the way Austin looks at me. I have to remember to breathe.
“Priorities change,” Austin says.
Braden laughs. “No way am I missing the Gathering now.”
Someone waves from the sidewalk. Jeremy flashes me a goofy grin from the other side of the glass case in the window. He looks more like himself than he did the afternoon in the pub, as he pushes a long strand of hair from his face. Micah steps next to him and pulls Jeremy’s wrist down to his side. Jeremy rolls his eyes at me, and I can’t help smiling.
Austin looks out the window and stiffens.
“It’s okay,” I say. “They’re friends.”
Braden nods as the twins walk into the bakery. “Keep your cool, Arawn. These two aren’t aggressive.”
I stand up to greet them. Jeremy pulls me into a huge bear hug, lifting me off my feet and swinging me from side to side. “Looking babelicious as ever.”
Micah nods his chin in my direction as Jeremy sets me back on my feet. “Dude.”
I pull a couple more chairs over to our table while Micah orders about ten different cakes from the boy behind the counter.
Austin narrows his eyes as the twins sit down, but he keeps his mouth shut as Jeremy and Micah start shoving the little cakes into their mouths.
“You look like you’re holding up okay,” Micah says.
“Jonah’s an ass, but don’t worry.” Jeremy eats a little yellow cake in one bite. “We made sure he won’t be bothering you for a while.”
“Okay.” I can’t stop smiling. “I’m kind of afraid to ask.”
Micah runs a hand over his buzzed hair. “We might’ve kicked his ass into the next country.” His lips curve into a slow grin that transforms his face into a replica of his identical twin’s.
“Might have? The whiner ran all the way to London with his girlfriend. My guess is he won’t be back until the Gathering.”
Austin watches them carefully. “Are you not with the Sons then?”
Micah shakes his head. “We don’t believe in killing hot babes if that’s what you mean.” The twins are pacifists. Or as Jeremy puts it, they’d rather make out than make war with the bandia.
“Is there any way for you to avoid the Gathering?” I ask.
Jeremy pops another cake into his mouth.
Micah’s face grows serious. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. They can’t make us fight.”
A wave of nausea rolls through me. “You might not have a choice. I won’t fight you. But the other bandia will.”
“Nah. Not when she gets a load of this face.” Jeremy waggles his eyebrows. “She’ll be too busy swooning.”
Micah laughs along with us, but his eyes are dark. When he thinks everyone is looking at Jeremy, he bites his lip.
I want to hug them both. They may be Sons of Killian, but they’re not fighters. They don’t want to be part of this war any more than I do. I turn to Micah, keeping my voice low. “Maybe Blake can get you away from here.”
“Have you seen him lately?”
I nod.
Micah leans in close, lowering his voice to a whisper. “He’s not the same without you.”
“He’ll be okay.” I hope it’s true.
I catch Austin watching me. Nothing’s the same. Not Blake. Not me. But maybe, just maybe, things are going to turn out okay. I reach for Austin’s hand. His answering smile is crooked, and sad, and somehow perfect. A war is coming. We might not be able to stop it. But at least for now, we’ve made our own peace.
And for the rest of the afternoon, a fuath, a former god, a bandia and two Sons of Killian share tea and cakes and laughter.
It has to mean something.
FORTY
I make arrangements to meet Joe at the ruin the next day. I sit on the low wall and watch as he emerges out of the mist that covers the trail. He wears a long raincoat, as black as his hair. He pushes a branch away from his perfectly smooth pompadour as he ducks under a tree and enters the clearing.
The sky is gray again, the clouds covering the sky in a blanket of dampness. The mist curls through the grass and covers the low wall.
Joe takes a seat beside me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this place.”
“You know it?”
“Magic places are hard to avoid.” He puts his hands in his pockets and stares at the ground. “Portia came down to breakfast yesterday wearing your necklace.”
My stomach twists into a tight knot. “It’s not mine. I gave it back to Blake.”
“It doesn’t belong to Blake any more than it belongs to Portia.” He turns to me, his eyes serious. “You’re the one who needs it.”
I stand up. “I don’t.” It’s nothing more than a reminder of Blake. “We’ve both moved on.”
“You shared a soul once. That means something.”
I wish I had my powers now. I want to set something on fire. “Blake and I were never meant to be anything but enemies. You should know that better than anyone.” I dare him to argue with me. “And now Portia has the necklace. You do the math.”
Joe’s expression doesn’t change. He still looks calm as ever. “You know about the bond.”
“It doesn’t sound so special now, does it? The whole bonding thing is just what happens when a Son and a bandia get together.” The truth hurts more than it should. Jonah once told me that I would’ve bonded with any Son that got me on my back. I hadn’t wanted to believe it at the time, but now it’s hard to doubt it.
Joe stretches out his legs. “I’ve seen it before.” Of course he has. He’s been watching the Sons for how long? Centuries? “You and Blake were different.”
“How?”
“The bond always ends in death. You’re both still alive.”
“It did end in death. I killed him.”
Joe smiles. “You’re only half right.”
“I was there. He was dead.”
“Last time I checked, he looked pretty spry.” Joe takes a cigarette from the pocket of his long coat. “Might change if you don’t get that necklace back.”
“What does my having the necklace have to do with Blake living or dying?”
Joe stands up and puts the unlit cigarette between his teeth. The sky darkens above us. “Portia will kill him.”
“Not if Blake kills her first.”
“Same difference. Rush won’t stand by after his daughter’s been killed.”
I knew that Blake and Portia had bonded, but all I saw was how it degraded what Blake and I shared. It hadn’t occurred to me that Blake was in trouble. That it would kill him. Joe is right, there is no way for this to end well for Blake.
But Blake got himself into this mess. He can get himself out. The thought is smothered by the part of me that can’t bear for Blake to die. Even now. “What am I supposed to do about it?” My voice comes out angrier than I intend. “I can barely lift a broadsword.”
“Get the necklace.”
“I’m still not following.”
Joe puts the unlit cigarette between his lips and takes a step toward the trail leading into the forest, his back to me. “You will always be a bandia. Nothing can take it away completely.”
“I can’t access any of my power. I’ve tried.”
&nbs
p; Joe looks back over his shoulder. “The necklace.”
I wait until Joe disappears down the trail before I step off the low wall. Joe thinks the necklace will help me access my power? How?
I test the theory against what I already know. My powers were supposed to disappear in halves until I couldn’t access them anymore, but instead, I was stronger than I’d ever been. Right up until I gave the necklace back to Blake. And then my powers were gone.
Had my powers been declining all along without my noticing because the necklace helped magnify them? Was that even possible? If so, the wolfsbane charm had been infused with some serious magic. Just like the charm on my bracelet that kept people from noticing me.
And the horse that lets me travel a thousand years away.
I stare at the matching cut out in the stone wall. It’s not too late to change everything. I place the horse against the wall and let it carry me into the mist.
I close my eyes until I feel warm sunshine on my face and solid ground beneath my feet. The field is empty, so I venture forward, into the trees and down the hill that will take me back toward Lorcan Hall. At a break in the trail, I see the house, still an imposing wall of stone.
A tall figure approaches through the trees. I duck behind a thick bush. Mick strides past, dressed in formfitting wool pants and a simple green tunic. His red hair is long, all one length that brushes his shoulders. He looks younger without the thick sideburns, his face clean shaven.
“Mick?” I step into the path behind.
“Mikel,” he says, in the same stern tone he always uses, before he turns around. When he sees me his eyes go wide. “Are you the mystery girl?”
“The mystery girl?”
“The girl from the future that everyone speaks of?”
“Who’s everyone?”
“The master and Gwyn and Bronwyn, and their mother.”
“Danu? She knows about me?”
Mick’s lips quirk. “Aye. And you had best stay far away from her. She is not at all happy that her matchmaking has been thwarted.”
“Is that all?” At least Danu hasn’t heard about my socalled murder plot. Then it occurs to me, maybe Danu is exactly who needs to know the future.
