A War for Truth

by M. Lynn

  As soon as he did, all surrounding sounds faded away as warmth flooded through him.

  Lorelai continued to speak, and it took a moment for her words to break through. “Some people can actually hear the earth. It’s called the Tenelach. Their power is infinite. Yours will have its limits. Now, don’t think about it. I just want you to release any barrier in your mind, let yourself go.”

  He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and opened himself up. It was easier than he expected—as if his mind already knew what to do.

  Energy surged through him, filling him.

  “Slowly,” Lorelai said softly. “You can control the flow. Your body should instinctively know when to stop. Listen to it. If you don’t, you’ll draw more power than you can handle and you could die.”

  She was right. It struggled to squeeze more into him. The flow grew weak. He could have taken more if he pulled, but he heeded Lorelai’s warning and slammed up a wall in his mind while pulling his hands free of the soft grass.

  “How do you feel?” Lorelai asked tentatively.

  Davi raised his eyes to the clear blue sky, a grin forming on his lips as the power swirled inside of him. “Like I can do anything.”

  It was the truth. Invincibility. Nothing could touch him.

  Lorelai stood and turned to face him, satisfaction bright in her eyes. “That was the easy part.” She gestured to a patch of trees nearby. “Try it out.”

  His shoulders cocked with confidence, Davi faced his target. He didn’t need to think about the first thing he’d do with the magic. He knew. He could do this. He could do it all. Feeling more like himself than any time since he’d arrived in Dreach-Dhoun, he lifted his hands and pressed them forward, expected the trees to burst into flames.

  But nothing happened.

  The power inside him fought for dominance, but it wouldn’t come out. He tried again. It crackled on his fingertips and died.

  Lorelai muffled a laugh with her fist. “You can’t just draw on magic and expect to have it mastered. The use of magic is a battle within oneself. The power wants control. You need to fight it and take that control for yourself. Everyone has varying levels of magic. Most people can only use it for small things. The strength of one’s power depends on their body’s tolerance of it.”

  The longer he stood there not using it, the more he felt the magic seeping out of him. He was unable to keep it in. He tried again, but nothing happened and he growled.

  “It’ll take practice, Davi.”

  His mind suddenly focused on the palace and the barren lands that surrounded it. They’d been drained of magic to save him—although he didn’t know what that meant.

  “My father,” he started. “He’s… powerful?”

  “The second most powerful man I’ve ever heard of. Don’t you dare tell him I said that.”

  “Who was the first?”

  She turned away from him and for a moment, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then her sad words reached him almost as if carried on a breeze.

  “Before Dreach-Sciene lost their magic, it was Marcus Renauld.”

  Lorelai took comfort in being out among the fields that were humming with magic as Davi practiced using his power. He’d managed to create a tiny blast of air and she’d never been more proud of anyone. Magic worked like a muscle one had only to use to know how. They called it magic memory. Instinct. Evolution. A connection to the earth.

  When Davi was a child, Lorelai had taken care of him. He’d first used magic as a young boy. He may not remember it, but his body did. It already knew what to do. It only needed to be reminded.

  When they’d journeyed into Dreach-Sciene together and she had to hand him over to the king, it nearly killed her. But it was her uncle’s orders. Through Davi and blood magic, they’d kept a close watch on Marcus Renauld and his household.

  Marcus. Every time she thought of him, her heart squeezed. Everyone thought she’d killed the man. Thom hadn’t told that secret, but she knew he had his reasons. He held it over her head each night when he came to her rooms and put his disgusting paws on her.

  But if Calis found out she’d chosen not to carry out her mission, the punishment would be great.

  A boyish grin formed on Davi’s face, creating two adorable dimples. At least she had him back in her life even if she had to lie to him every day.

  He sent a bolt of energy towards a tree and the crack of the bark sounded loud as he let out a whoop of glee. Lorelai hid a smirk behind her hand. Davi’s pride at something children could normally do was endearing.

  Would he be as powerful as his father? If he was, she hoped it wouldn’t destroy him too.

  Power didn’t have to ruin everything. She’d only been a girl during the war, but she heard stories of Marcus Renauld and how he used his abilities to protect his people. To protect his family.

  Marissa Kane had been more mother to Lorelai than her own, but then she’d switched sides. Lorelai had barely been able to look at Rissa without memories flooding back. She looked so like her mother.

  These thoughts would get her nowhere. She refocused on Davi, noticing his movements growing sluggish. He’d drawn more magic from the earth twice, but it was wearing on him.

  “Davion,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “You’re exhausted. We should stop.”

  “No way.”

  She leveled him with a stare. “There’ll be plenty enough time to practice in the future. Right now, I need a drink.”

  That stopped him and his mouth hung open in shock for just a moment before a gleam shone in his eyes. He released the rest of the magic stored inside him and surprised her by dropping a sweaty arm over her shoulders. “We really are related, aren’t we?”

  She reveled in the feel of any kind of human contact. She’d never had family who hugged or showed affection. It felt… nice. Like someone cared about her.

  Guilt ate away at her. She’d been there when Davi’s memories were erased. She knew the truth of his time in Dreach-Sciene. But telling him would ruin everything, and she wasn’t ready to lose the one person who’d always been able to make her smile. The one person she hoped could eventually love her for the simple fact that they were family.

  It was selfish, but in that moment, she didn’t care.

  Deor ran up and bumped into their legs.

  “There’s a tavern in the village,” she said. “But we need to ditch our guards.”

  He smirked. “Done.” As he walked up to the guards, he stood as tall as he could and squared his shoulders. “Your presence is no longer needed.”

  “I’m sorry, your Highness, but we have orders.” The man who spoke truly did look apologetic.

  “Now you have new orders.” The arrogance was new to Davi, and he found he liked it. “I am the Prince of Dreach-Dhoun.” He cocked his head. “And I am not someone you want to disobey.” He narrowed his eyes and waited.

  The guard sighed. “Yes, your Highness. Just be warned, your father will not be happy about this.”

  The guards mounted up and rode away.

  Lorelai watched them in stunned fascination. “That was way too easy.”

  Davi shrugged. “Let’s go.”

  The ride to the village was short and people watched as they made their way along the cobblestone street. It all felt very familiar to Davi. Had he been in villages like this in Dreach-Sciene?

  “They’re staring,” he whispered to Lorelai.

  She ran a hand over her white hair, her lips turning down. “They always stare. I’m not exactly unrecognizable. I doubt they know who you are though.”

  They dismounted outside a squat building and tied their horses up before opening the door. Boisterous sounds poured out. A heavy laugh soared through the air among the clattering of cups and plates. Deor was made to stay outside.

  Lines of wooden benches sat around tables that had seen better days. A long bar stood on one end of the room with the kitchen behind it.

  As soon as they stepped inside, all sound s
topped. Patrons turned to stare, open-mouthed. A few rose to their feet and scurried out the door, but others sat frozen.

  Lorelai was used to the feeling of distrust that hung in the air. Calis made a habit of raiding the villages for any sign of unrest. He didn’t realize he only created more unrest in doing so. He ruled his people harshly and without mercy. If there were even a rumor of rebellious leanings, the dungeons would fill.

  But she’d been coming into the village since she was a girl. As a child, she’d played with the village children. Over the years, she’d continued her trips. Calis didn’t approve, but he didn’t stop her either. As long as it didn’t interfere with her missions for the crown, he ignored it.

  Davi sat down heavily at one of the tables and rested his head in his hands. “Does magic always do this?”

  “Do what?” She joined him.

  “Is it always so exhausting?”

  She patted his arm in sympathy. “Yes.”

  He groaned and a small laugh escaped her. She was still smiling when a dark-haired man walked over carrying two tankards of ale. He slammed them on the table, the golden liquid sloshing over the sides.

  “See the destruction of any kingdoms lately in that seer mind of yours?” he asked harshly.

  Davi lifted his head and opened his mouth, but Lorelai shot him a look.

  “Yeah,” she finally answered. “And your tavern was right in the middle of it.” She waved her hands in front of her face. “Poof.”

  He stared at her for a moment before a smile broke out across his face.

  Lorelai picked up her ale. “Thanks, Garon.”

  He winked and left to greet another customer. Lorelai busied herself drinking and when she finally stopped, she met Davi’s curious eyes.

  “I’ve known him since I was young. Before my mission to Dreach-Sciene.”

  “How long were you there?” he asked, wiping foam from his upper lip.

  Warning bells rang in her head. They were getting too close to the secrets she had no choice but to keep. “Too long.”

  He studied her over the rim of her glass and she couldn’t help but think his eyes saw too much. Swirling in the depths of his gaze was the boy she’d loved as her family, the young man she’d met who had an undying loyalty to Trystan Renauld, and the son his father was shaping all rolled into one.

  He was all of them and none of them.

  Could you be yourself if your memories were either lost or twisted?

  “Tell me about killing the king,” he said. The thrill in his voice was all Calis Bearne. He leaned forward with an eagerness she couldn’t hate him for. For all he knew, Marcus had only ever been his captor.

  As he waited, something else shone through on his face. A hint of compassion.

  Her lips turned down, and she studied the table. Could she trust him? He sure couldn’t trust her. He just didn’t know it. But losing his memories had stripped him of all walls. He pulled her in because he didn’t know how to distrust her. Not yet.

  And the earth knew, she needed to trust someone.

  Setting her tankard down, she met his gaze unflinchingly, and leaned in to drop her voice. “I didn’t kill him.”

  There, the words were out. They no longer belonged just to her. She waited for realization to strike Davi, but he seemed to only grow more confused. Her voice shook as the memories rushed in and she tried to explain. “I had the knife in my hand, ready to do my duty.” She covered her face. “And then I realized why.”

  “Why what?”

  “Why she switched sides. Marissa. Ramsey’s daughter. She was like a sister to me until she chose Dreach-Sciene over her own people. For so many years, I hated her for betraying us, but what I truly hated was her leaving me. But then I met Marcus Renauld and knew instantly how she could choose him. Love him. I almost made the same choice.”

  Tears blurred her vision, and she waited for Davi to call for someone to help him get her back to the palace. To the dungeons. She’d admitted to wanting to betray his father. It was Davion’s moment. His time to decide if he would be Calis Bearne.

  The tears came faster as she thought of her mother and what would happen to her without Lorelai to take care of her.

  Of Marcus and the pain in his eyes at her betrayal. He hadn’t loved her as he’d loved Marissa. It had been different. But it could have been good.

  If they were different people.

  Her back trembled with silent sobs.

  Her head jerked up when the bench shook as Davi slid in next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She sank into him, relief rushing through her.

  “But he’s dead?” He couldn’t mask the hope in his voice even as he comforted her.

  “Yes, Davi. Someone else finished my mission.”

  He rested his chin atop her head. “Good.”

  The coldness in his voice didn’t match the tenderness of his touch and she knew only one of those things would win in the end. He’d either be cold and cruel. Or he’d remain soft and caring. A friend.

  The palace of Dreach-Dhoun and the king that resided there would shape him, rule him.

  A sigh escaped her lips. The cousin she was beginning to know again, wouldn’t be around much longer.

  Just as hers had many years ago, soon his soul would disappear.

  Chapter 8

  The fear in the servant’s eyes every time they were in the king’s presence didn’t escape Davi’s notice. His father was not a man you wanted to cross. During his short time at the palace that was the only thing he’d really learned about his father.

  When his heavy hand clamped down around Davi’s shoulder, the son did his best not to flinch. He wasn’t scared of Calis, but he still lived with caution.

  “Son,” the king began. “I hear your aptitude for magic is coming along.”

  Davi nodded his head slowly. “Lorelai is a good teacher.”

  “I’m glad she’s helping you grow accustomed to Dreach-Dhoun. She is my most prized asset, other than yourself.”

  Asset. Not family. He liked to hope his father meant well, but there wasn’t a warm bone in his body.

  Despite the coldness that still existed in his father’s presence, Davi had begun to enjoy his time at the palace. Using magic. Spending time with Lorelai. If he never regained all of his memories, he’d be okay.

  “I’ve been told you and Lorelai have been going into the village?” the king said slowly as he showed Davi to a rack of practice swords. When his father had asked him to spar, shock kept him from saying anything at all.

  Davi picked up a sword and swung it loosely between his hands. How did his body know what to do? Surely in his captivity, he wouldn’t have been allowed to learn to fight?

  It was instinct. Nothing else could describe it. And with a sword in his hand, he felt better than he had in a long time. It returned something to him, a part of himself that couldn’t be recovered by magic or any kind of family bonding.

  He felt strong.

  He turned to face his father. “We’ve gone once or twice.”

  To his surprise, a laugh burst past his father’s lips. “Come now, my boy, I’d like to think I know you better than that. And I definitely know Lorelai. Nothing in this palace escapes my eyes.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “She thinks I am unaware of her journeys to play with the village children when she was young.” He tapped the side of his nose with one long finger. “I see everything.”

  Backing away, the king bent his knees and held his sword aloft, preparing to spar. Davi narrowed his eyes thinking of his cousin’s secret. Had she truly been able to keep it from the king? What would happen when he found out?

  Davi didn’t have long to consider the notion because his father lunged. Almost instinctively, he blocked the jab, knocking the sword away and shifting his feet back to avoid the next move.

  In between attacks, his father huffed and continued the conversation. “Lorelai had a role to play. While she was rollicking with the children, she was also picking up im
portant information she didn’t even know she had. Her maids reported everything she said about her time in the village and we found quite a few rebels that way.”

  Davi arced his sword through the air, his father blocked it at the last moment and pushed him back.

  Scrunching his brow, Davi thought about a young Lorelai. Had she looked as fragile as she did now? He felt fiercely protective of her, but even so, could he fault his father for using her? He couldn’t let unrest stir in the villages.

  Maybe that was what it meant to be king. Being forced to use even the ones you loved for the good of the kingdom.

  Thoughts of another king entered his mind, and he spun on one foot, kicking the other up to catch his father in the stomach. He grunted and fell back against the wall.

  Davi didn’t want to think about Marcus Renauld. Every time he did, white-hot anger sliced through him. He hated the man. And he couldn’t hate him. It was like a wall built up inside of him, splitting him in two. He wanted to kill him, but his gut churned at the thought of him dying. And then a small voice invaded every part of him, evaporating his anger. When that was gone, there was nothing left. Only a shell. Half of a man.

  His father wheezed against the wall and Davi hung his sword back on the rack.

  He turned his back on his father, his king.

  “Davion,” his father said softly.

  Davi shook his head. “I’m sorry, Father.”

  A sigh blasted out from the silence behind him. “Coming home has not been easy on you, son.”

  Shame had Davi’s chin sinking to his chest.

  “Son, with you and Lorelai in Dreach-Sciene, this palace was empty. You were with my enemy and I was sitting here just waiting for a chance. Now I have you both returned, but neither of you are fully intact and I blame myself.”

  Davi turned to face him. He’d never seen much emotion in his father. Before, he’d almost thought his return had no effect on the man. Running a hand through his dark hair, Davi took a step forward.