Felling Kingdoms (Book 5)

by Jenna Van Vleet

  “Will you have something now? Broth? I’ll heat it up.”

  No.

  Mikelle wilted, but he blinked and she rattled off the alphabet again. He spelled Robyn’s name.

  “No, we have not told her. W…r…o. Wrong. I’m wrong? She is wrong?”

  “Somet’in’ is wrong wit’ her.”

  Gabriel nodded his eyes in Afton’s direction.

  “I forgot about her in all this.” Mikelle spun the hinge ring around her finger having taken to guard it. “Would you have me go to her? Yes. Do you want her brought here? Yes? Why? Very well.”

  She slipped off the bed and left him to stare at Afton. She worked up his stomach and around his left side. He cleared his throat with the intention of telling her it was useless.

  “I’m sorry, Head Mage, I cannot count your blinks. I see t’ world in pulses, not in solidity like Shaun can.”

  Regrettably, he let her continue. Her hands, while delicate and feminine, did not entice him like Robyn’s did. He saw Afton as a skilled healer who did her best to keep him whole. The day before, she rolled him to his stomach and gave him a thoroughly deep massage that left him in relaxed euphoria for hours. She had already spent time that day working through knots in his thighs. In three weeks he was going to be as relaxed as a newborn.

  She made it to his shoulders, the tightest part of his body, and Mikelle walked in frowning.

  “Something is wrong with Robyn. She’s not thinking straight.” She sat beside him. “Nor would she come here. She said she is too busy preparing.”

  “For what?” Afton asked.

  “For her wedding.”

  Afton’s hands stopped. “I beg your pardon, but I t’ought she was marryin’ t’ Head Mage.”

  “She is supposed to be.”

  “Did she leave him when she found out about t’ Castrofax?”

  “She has not been told.”

  Afton frowned. “Who is she marryin’ t’en?”

  “The Prince of Arconia.”

  “T’ere is t’ problem.”

  Gabriel looked at her with an expectant expression.

  “Explain,” Mikelle translated.

  “It is not my place to judge nobles, but t’ Queen’s problem began before she returned from Arconia. Her problem came wit’ her.”

  Gabriel blinked rapidly.

  “He agrees,” Mikelle whispered. “Do you want me to have him followed? Brought here? I can interrogate him.”

  Gabriel sighed and looked at the ceiling.

  “Is that your response for ‘I don’t know’? I thought so.”

  ‘In truth, what help could I be to Robyn?’ Gabriel thought, ‘She could not wed a crippled man. Perhaps Virgil is the best choice.’

  Afton resumed her work, focusing on the individual muscles in his neck.

  ‘Just stop. Everyone go away and leave me here.’ But no one could hear his thoughts.

  Maxine appeared in Atrox to find Ryker was not in his usual place. She stole into the manor with a searchers pattern and found him in the library, a vast room two stories tall with spiraling staircases and slender walkways. He stood atop one with an open book in his hands as she walked in.

  “I have wonderful news,” she smiled. “The Head Mage wears Glittering.”

  Ryker was midway through pulling another book out, but it fell to the walkway as his whole body snapped around to stare down at her. “How?”

  She waggled her fingers at him. “I’ve been busy with the Prince of Arconia.”

  Ryker smiled broadly, displaying his straight teeth in more of a sneer than glee. “Y’ clever creature. How did it happen?”

  “I gave Virgil the Decadence Rings in exchange for his removal of the Head Mage. Arconia had a Castrofax.” She shrugged a slim shoulder. “He controls Queen Robyn, I control him, and the Head Mage is paralyzed.”

  Ryker descended the stairs with a grin, clicking his cheek. “Y’ wondrous woman. I always underestimate y’.”

  “We need to get Dorian up to speed fa’ faster.”

  “Aye, beauty. Y’ best get started on that. I will join y’ shortly.”

  She nodded and stole to Dorian’s bedchamber. The handsome man paced his room slowly as a Mage in a pale green dress told him of Anatoly City and its changes. He dressed in tan breeches, a long shirt and an open vest. His wardrobe had not updated since the Third Age, and for a moment she was taken back to the Mage Wars and their glories.

  “I’m here to fix you, my lord,” she smiled winsomely. Dorian was younger, born four years after her, but he carried himself with the confidence of a man much older. It made him all the more enticing. He grinned slowly and went to a chair. His body was looser than it had been the night before.

  “You may leave us,” he waved to the serving girl who jumped up and raced off. Maxine put her hands on his shoulders and set the regeneration-pattern into his muscles, ripping at them before mending.

  “The Fifth Age is a strange one, my lady.”

  “No more strange than the last ones.”

  “T’ese Mages are content being Class Fives and Fours. I would fall on a sword if I was born so weak.”

  Dorian was a Class Ten like all the Arch Mages, wielding Earth, Fire and Air. He was powerful, merciless; a destroyer. He understood how structures were built and how to bring them down with one blow. He knew where a fire would best spread, and how to use the air to aid in both circumstances.

  She let her hands trail unabashedly. “I will rework your clothes later today. This Age has long trousers and tall boots.”

  “What is old is new again. I still have tall boots from t’ beginning of t’ Third Age. I am pleased you have not changed, Maxine.”

  “Oh, but I have,” she sighed. She bedded a villain, killed a Prince, bedded another, fell for the Head Mage, and trapped him and his beloved in their bodies. By the time she was finished kingdoms would fall. “We need to strengthen you as quickly as possible. Ryker will be coming to aid as well.”

  “I t’ought we could have t’ morning to ourselves, my lady.”

  Ryker burst in at that moment, letting Maxine’s reply die on her lips. “Y’ work on his legs, I’ll do the torso.”

  “If you insist,” Dorian smirked.

  “I wish during the rebirth I could restore a body t’ their normal stature, but I can only form muscles, ne alter their strength. Has Maxine told y’ of the Head Mage?” Ryker took up the left arm as Maxine knelt to work her way up the leg. “He’s been put in the Glittering Castrofax, so now is the best time t’ strike as the castle mourns. If we push y’, we can have y’ up t’ normal in a few days I think.”

  “You are t’ master,” Dorian replied, wincing slightly as Ryker tore into him.

  “I want y’ walking the manor every hour to get used t’ your new body. It is imperative we get y’ in the castle soon. I can ne leave Pike alone par long.”

  “What will you have me do once inside?”

  Ryker clicked his cheek. “That’s a story par another day. Can y’ get yourself in?”

  Dorian drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Do t’ey know my face?”

  “There is no way t’ tell.”

  Maxine adjusted her position on his leg, doing her best to heal as she ripped unlike Ryker who ripped with abandon. “The Head Mage just brought in a few legions of Gaelsins.”

  Dorian’s brows rose. “Could I be a refugee t’rough t’ tunnels?”

  “They have been closed par an Age.”

  “I can open t’em. And I can be ready in two days. My lady, if you will put me out, you can rip much faster.”

  Ryker nodded, and she seized Void laying a sleepers-pattern. He slumped back into the chair as Ryker and Maxine tore into him.

  Something was different about Virgil this morning. ‘He seems ashamed.’ Robyn thought, ‘It’s about time!’

  “Is something the matter, my love?” she asked, choking internally on the salutation. He had returned from a morning ride on a horse he did not like an
d returned with a sour expression. He stood by the main door to her study just like he used to when guarding her. He glanced her way looking like he had been caught in something.

  He remained silent as she drafted a merchant agreement with Viorica for oil, but she watched him slowly stew as the hours passed. He usually spent his day with her to make sure he need not add new boundaries, and he always sat with a book and a drink. Something was troubling him, and it delighted her.

  “You will have to tell me eventually,” she said with a sing-song voice.

  He huffed and refolded his arms.

  She grinned. ‘I bet I can guess.’ She looked at the black ring on her finger. There were very few people in the world who could devise something like it, and they could only be Mages.

  “Which Arch Mage gave you this?” she asked and held up her hand.

  The color drained from his tan face, and he glanced at her, looking like a child caught sealing sweets.

  “I bet Maxine or Ryker,” she taunted, knowing she caught him. “A woman like Maxine, and man like you, I wager it was her.”

  His lips parted to speak, but he sealed them and looked away.

  “And judging by your remorse this morning, I guarantee she paid you a visit last night.”

  He looked at her with pinched eyes, guilt painted over his face.

  “You underestimate me, Prince,” she smiled, but inside she was fuming. ‘You straight-up star-blinded fool. You belong to her now. You bedded an Arch Mage. I would take Gabriel sullied to Arconians any day compared to a man who bedded her.’

  “It meant nothing,” he said quietly.

  “Now, but at the time I am sure it meant a great deal.” She looked back at her page, tears blurring the words. If she could have nothing else, she hoped for a faithful husband. “She owns you now, you know.”

  “It was one night.”

  Robyn looked up, tears falling down her cheeks, but her restrictions prevented her face from showing her sorrow. “She has been manipulating you from the start, you great idiot! You may have successfully destroyed three kingdoms.”

  “I—I would not!”

  “Take this off, and I will repair what you have done.” She held out her hand. “There is still time.”

  He looked at it as if considering, “You cannot repair the Head Mage.”

  “No, you can.” He looked up hopefully. “Jaden has the Ring of Rebirth, and you sure as truth will be giving your life to die in Gabriel’s place. Only then will you be able to pay retribution for your crimes.”

  He smirked ashamedly. “No, I think not.”

  She slammed her hand on the table, making the candlesticks bounce. “Take this off now.”

  He looked at her for some time in consideration, but pushed off the wall and left the study.

  An hour slid by before someone knocked on her door. The guard outside opened it for Secondhand Lael. Her stomach had tightened at the initial sound, but she was relieved to see him, standing swiftly.

  “Secondhand,” she smiled, wishing her voice would convey her concern. “You never come here.”

  “Greetings, Your Grace,” he bowed.

  “Please, have a seat.” ‘Help me, please.’

  He kicked out the back of his dark green and blue coat and took a seat across a low table from her. He smiled professionally, the model of calm at all times. “The Head Mage sent me.”

  She nodded, eager. “He has been doing a lot of that lately. Mage Mikelle visited me just yesterday.”

  “Your Grace, he would come if he could, but….” His voice trailed into her conscious as her heart clenched. He confirmed Gabriel could not come, so Virgil had been truthful. Gabriel was bound. She turned her attention back to him. “…about your marriage to the Prince of Arconia. I wanted to speak with you directly concerning it.”

  “What is there to know?”

  “It happened rather hurriedly.”

  “Did it?” She waved a dismissive hand. ‘Lael, pay attention!’ “I have loved Prince Virgil for some time. It was only a matter of time before he asked for my hand.”

  Lael leaned forward with a pensive scowl. “Did something happen between you and Gabriel I am not aware of? Forgive my prodding, but it is essential for me to understand.”

  She trembled inside. ‘No, no!’ “Why, did he not tell you he bedded the Arconians? I cannot have a sullied man in my bed.”

  Lael flushed red. “It was not my place to know. We absolved him of his crimes while in the Castrofax,” he said accusingly.

  She took up his hand, hoping to the stars he would feel her tremble. “We grew apart. That is all there is to it. I love Virgil.”

  Lael looked down at her hand curiously. “Robyn,” he said very quietly. He never used her proper name. “Is something wrong?”

  “Why, Secondhand, you worry too much,” she smiled, but her hand gripped his tightly for a moment. ‘Please read into everything.’

  He squeezed her hand. “You are not yourself.”

  “I certainly am.”

  “You ordered for Gabriel to be flogged.”

  “No, that is not normal of me.” She smiled, but he bored into her eyes. ‘Please, Lael.’ Her hand was clammy in his. If her mind could not betray Virgil, perhaps her body would. “Any word from the Head Mage?”

  “No, Your Grace, he says nothing these days.”

  Her heart wrenched. “Speechless! How amusing!”

  He released her hand and leaned back with a quizzical look. “I should return to Jaden.” He stood. “Always a pleasure.”

  “Do come back soon, Secondhand.”

  He paid her an expectant look, but when she said nothing else, he bowed respectfully and left.

  ‘Stars, Lael, please see something is terribly wrong.’

  Chapter 15

  His thumb tightened around the sheets just to feel them beneath his hand. Gabriel spent hours trying to loosen his whole hand, but in the end was only able to free his thumb, and not even all of it. He could manage to curl the first two bones, but the rest was a mystery.

  Ever-vigilant Mikelle read by his side, but he long ago stopped listening. Her eyes flitted over the pages. “Has your surname ever been spelled with two N’s?”

  He gave her an uncertain expression.

  “There is a Head Mage in here named Johnni Lennis who sat the Seat in the beginning of the Fourth Age.” She held the book out to show him a drawing of a broad-shouldered man with a neatly-trimmed beard and a receding hair line. He stared out fiercely from the page. The man’s heritage was outlined in spidering lines. “I would be interested to know if you had a Head Mage in your bloodline.”

  Lael knocked on the door and pushed it open with a distracted expression. “Something is very off about Robyn, you were right.”

  Gabriel exhaled in relief.

  “I would not be surprised if an Arch Mage got something into her,” Mikelle muttered. “Can they…hook a pattern into a person?”

  Lael nodded as Gabriel blinked. “He has summons linked from rings into his chest that ping.”

  “Can the will be manipulated so dramatically?”

  Lael looked to Gabriel for an answer, and Gabriel gave an inquisitive expression. “We forget Ryker knows a great deal more than we do about patterns lost to the Ages.”

  “What will you have us do?”

  Lael looked to Gabriel. “I will keep someone’s eye on her, but until she does something that merits my halting, I want to leave her alone.” Gabriel blinked in agreement. “She says she will marry Prince Virgil, but I will step in before that happens.” Gabriel agreed. “In the meantime, have you loosened anything else?”

  “His thumb,” Mikelle smiled encouragingly.

  “Keep trying.”

  No.

  Lael frowned. “Why not?”

  “It exhausts him,” Mikelle explained, but Gabriel blinked rapidly, so she counted off the alphabet. “Let…me…die. Gabriel. Stop it!”

  Lael gave a sad expression, but both he and
Gabriel knew the only thing holding Lael back from finding a new Head Mage was Gabriel’s life. Gabriel would do everyone a favor by perishing quickly. He could already feel his body’s need for food diminishing as it began to consume excess fat. It would be a painful few weeks but worth it in the end.

  “Lace returned to Arconia this morning. She wanted to see you, but I felt it would be best if she did not.”

  Gabriel looked away, keeping the tears back. At least he was able to hold his child once.

  “We have been interrogating Pike in the meanwhile, but he is unyielding.” Gabriel gave him a dark look. “Not interrogating like you are used to, Head Mage. Restriction of basic needs and comforts can break a man, too.” Gabriel now knew that all too well.

  “Lael, do you know if there is a Head Mage in Gabriel’s heritage?” Mikelle held out the open book, and Lael stared at it curiously.

  ‘What does it matter?’

  “I will look into our records, though I think there are Head Mages through most people’s lines if you go back far enough.”

  Afton knocked on the door and waited for admittance. She entered and stood before Gabriel with a smile. She melded the strengthening with more massages these sessions. He enjoyed them far more than the ripping of his muscles. He could see how her work along with his food depravation were making muscles tone through his skin and could not miss the lingering glances Mikelle paid over the books when she turned the pages.

  “Keep trying to loosen yourself,” Lael said. He bade them farewell and left. Gabriel sighed. He would reserve his strength for a later day. Perhaps he could push harder and further if he was better energized, but not now.

  Maxine watched from the window as Dorian and Ryker sparred outside in the snow. Dorian had gotten up to his usual strength much faster than they expected. He needed only a solid day of ripping and healing to regain his lost muscle. While Ryker and Maxine rested from the regeneration, Dorian walked or ran through the manor trying to learn his body. Ryker started the spar with ease before realizing Dorian could handle much more. They spun and reeled at each other with patterns that could truly damage.

  Dorian was a powerhouse of strength. He was accurate, confident, and had youth to aid his precise attacks. The two men were nearly equally matched but Ryker, as he always did, outmatched every opponent somehow. Maxine smirked as he struck Dorian from behind. It was exceedingly rare that Ryker lost a battle, unless he was overwhelmed in numbers. There was something strange about him. In all her days, she never met a stronger Spirit Mage, though the Head Mage would have been a powerful opponent.