Ransomed to the World

by Stacey Brutger

  “Once she’s presented, we can just duck out, right?” Logan looked at the guys for confirmation. “She’ll be protected then?”

  No one spoke for a heartbeat, and Sadie rolled her eyes at their naïveté. “Being presented to the council is just the first step. The claiming ceremony, where she’ll be paraded in front of the other houses, will make it official. As the only living offspring, she’ll be considered the heir to the Daxion House. She’ll be protected to a certain extent, so they won’t come after her openly, not unless they want to try and take over the whole house.”

  “And is that bad?” Logan countered, trading glances with the others. “I mean, do we really care?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Taking over a house is usually a fight to the death. Hundreds of people will die, and even more will suffer.” A snarl twisted Sadie’s face, and she whirled toward Edgar. “I won’t help you if you only plan to abandon our house when they need us most.”

  “As much as I’d love to put all this behind us, leaving isn’t possible.” Annora stopped at Logan’s side, touching his arm when he looked ready to argue. “Daxion will be furious at being forced to claim me in public. He’d never let me go without getting what he wants. As soon as he claims me, he’ll have control over me.”

  “Unacceptable.” Mason crossed his arms and scowled, as if preparing for a fight.

  Being under someone else’s control again was her greatest fear, and he knew it. She loved that he was trying to protect her.

  “There is only one answer that would satisfy everyone and keep Annora safe.” Xander crossed his arms, his muscles flexing in a distracting way. “We kill Daxion.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Annora followed Sadie through the streets of Central City, fidgeting in the outfit the other woman loaned her. The dress was created for someone taller and less busty, but the phantom insisted that she wouldn’t be admitted without wearing appropriate attire.

  You look beautiful in anything.

  Annora nearly snorted, wanting to call Mason out on his bald-faced lie, but sincerity rang in his voice. No matter what she wore or didn’t wear, he would always find her beautiful, and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. That she could hear him meant that his troll was at least partially in control, his beast no doubt disliking not having her close.

  The guys were watching her, their presence humming through their connection, but they kept their distance.

  Or almost all of them.

  Annora swore that she saw the inky black face and crystal blue eyes of a little fox peeking out at her from behind carts and buildings, a tiny ferret loping at his side.

  While she wanted to chide them, she was too grateful for their support.

  To avoid drawing attention to them, Annora kept her head lowered, her shoulders bowed, making herself as forgettable as possible. She’d love to call on the darkness and smudge away her presence the way she normally did, but she was afraid the use of magic would make her shine like a beacon.

  Without the guys near to act as buffers between her and the outside world, she was left floundering, the confidence she’d gained the past few months wilting a little. It was disorienting not to know where she was being taken, and she glanced around the square they just entered. “Where are we going?”

  Though Sadie didn’t look at her, Annora could practically feel the girl roll her eyes. “We’re going to the heart of Central City—the Capitol Building. It’s the seat of power for phantoms, and how the island got its name.”

  Sadie paused and nodded to a squad of troops, but didn’t slow her pace, only continuing their discussion when they were well past. “Think of the island like an old wagon wheel. Central City is the hub, each family is assigned a section to govern, and the ruling member of each household serves on the council.”

  As they wound through the streets, the buildings became more elaborate, the streets wider and cleaner, and the people more refined—their clothes, hair, and mannerisms becoming more pretentious. She was afraid to look at them too closely, afraid to draw attention to herself and be labeled a fraud.

  One thing stood out to her—the closer they got to the center of the city, the richer the air became. Not just cleaner and crisper, but dark matter all but floated on the breeze. Every time she inhaled, it spread through her system until her skin tingled, and she resisted the urge to rub her arms and suck it all down.

  Traffic picked up, and more and more people joined them while they walked toward the hub. What confused her were the people. They were full-blown phantoms. She expected them to be brimming with magic, barely able to contain it, yet they generated so little it barely registered.

  The more people she passed, the more she realized how very different she was compared to them. A dozen or so people were like Edgar and Sadie, but dark matter didn’t inhabit their bones.

  Not like her.

  One building loomed over all the others on the island like an elaborate royal castle. As they got closer, she saw a large wrought iron fences circling the building, which only reinforced the impression. The guards took one look at Sadie and waved them through, while other people in the throng around them were held back to be questioned and, in some instances, searched.

  The courtyard was magical. Yards of lawn stretched out before them, cherry blossoms in bloom, flowers perfectly groomed. Intricately carved granite benches were scattered about for people to stop and rest, the carvings on the legs depicting animals like none she’d ever seen. In the center of the yard was a granite fountain big enough to be mistaken for a small pool. Water trickled down the three tiers, while a group of swans floated along the surface of the crystal clear pool.

  It was like something out of a fairy tale.

  Sadie didn’t slow her pace as she strode across the lawn toward the granite steps. A pair of ancient wooden doors nearly two stories tall was waiting at the top, ready to crush any who dared approach.

  As she neared, static crackled in the air so thickly, her hair started to lift. Annora made it up the steps, then stopped dead, the power blasting off the entrance like bathing in pure dark matter.

  Sadie continued for a few more paces before noticing Annora had halted. She turned and hissed, “Now is not the time to stop.”

  “There’s a ward on the door.” Annora shuffled uncomfortably, not wanting to get any closer, the need to touch it almost like a compulsion.

  Sadie frowned and looked back at the door. “Just a small one to make sure no harm comes to the council. As long as you don’t plan to murder them, you’re fine.”

  Annora leaned forward, swearing she saw something moving inside the darkness. “I think there’s something in there.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” Without waiting for a response, Sadie walked through the ward and began walking down the hall.

  Shit.

  A pit yawned open in Annora’s stomach, a warning that something was going to go horribly wrong. She did her best to shove it away and clamped down on her magic until her senses deadened. Gathering her courage, she charged up the stairs.

  As she crossed the ward, the reassuring connection to the guys became muffled. They were still there, but it was like the wards were interfering with it or something.

  Instead of crossing into the building, she was dumped into the afterworld…only it was a vastly different place from where she grew up and not at all comforting. She was still inside the castle, but the magic was a physical thing swirling around her. The shadows were deeper here, more ominous, as if something was waiting.

  A lithe young woman in an elegant dress glided out of the darkness, her gown glittering with jewels, the graceful way she moved almost hypnotizing.

  Annora stilled, feeling very much like a drunken trash panda dressed up in clown clothing by comparison. Whoever entered was no longer alive—nor were they really dead. Edgar’s warnings to be wary of the darkness flashed in her mind, and she braced herself, expecting a monster to rip out of the woman and devour her.
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  A gentle smile softened the woman’s face instead. “I haven’t seen one such as you in ages, and I couldn’t help be curious.”

  “One such as me?” Annora fought the urge to flee. She waited for her instincts to kick in and warn her of danger, but the woman oozed serenity. Not sure she could trust her own senses, Annora kept her magic locked down tight and waited.

  “You’re a bridge, a talent so rare that only one is born every century, usually in a time of great need. There hasn’t been one who has survived childhood in nearly five hundred years.” She came forward and circled Annora. “You must have come to be recognized by the council.”

  Her gaze dropped to Annora’s dress, then she frowned and shook her head with a sigh. “Now that just won’t do. You do them an honor by offering your services as a warrior and arbiter.” She touched the dress, clicking her tongue. “You need something that will make you shine.”

  Annora was ready to object when another woman entered. She was just as striking as the first, wearing a deep red silk gown that clung to her gorgeous body, but the kindness was absent, replaced by a haughtiness that gave her a slightly sour look. Disdain oozed from her as she glanced at Annora, her lips curling in disgust. “Why are you bothering with a half-breed, Eliana? She’s not worth the effort. She’ll be lucky they don’t strike her down for her daring.”

  “Hush.” The first woman waved her away. “You’re just jealous that she has more power in her little finger than you had when you were still alive.”

  The woman gave a loud harrumph. “In my day, a child like her would be nothing but a servant who needed to be taught her place.”

  “By someone like you?” Eliana straightened, lifting a delicate brow. “If I remember correctly, Rowena, you barely had enough power to qualify as an elite. If you have nothing more to add, maybe you should join the others and go back to your sector.”

  The woman pretended not to hear, tossing her dark curly hair over her shoulder and flouncing over to a chair and fireplace that hadn’t been there a second ago. “It amuses me to watch you dress her in silks and try to pass her off as anything but a servant. Her breeding will ring true. You can change the outside, but she’ll still always be a drudge. Spare her the humiliation and toss her back.” She plucked a grape off the table and popped it into her mouth.

  “Nonsense.” Eliana shook her head, her sleek blond curls swaying gently. She winked at Annora, then rolled her eyes. “Not everyone is a snob and adheres to the old ways. If such people don’t learn to change, they’ll eventually become extinct.”

  Sadness carried in her voice, and Annora took it as a warning of what would come, sooner than anyone expected if the rebels decided to truly fight for their freedom. Eliana tucked up the extra yards of fabric from Annora’s dress, twisting it and nodded to herself. “Yes, I think I have the perfect thing.”

  The darkness near the floor caught at the edges of the off-white dress, then began to streak upwards, the magic transforming the material into a wispy deep blue satin. Gems sparkled like the night sky every time Annora moved, while the fabric clung to her and swished around her ankles like a cloud.

  It made her feel beautiful and delicate.

  Eliana scanned her, her chin in her hand, and she tapped a finger against her bottom lip. Then she straightened, nodded, and smiled. “It’s perfect.”

  Annora glanced between the two women, cocking her head. “Why are you helping me?”

  Rowena snorted, but Eliana waved her off like shooing away a pesky fly. “The wards weren’t created by magic alone—one volunteer from each of the families gave up their afterlife to keep the wards active. Most of us have fallen dormant, each patrolling our own quadrants…until you. You shook up our existence, your presence summoning me as soon as you passed through the wards.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” Annora mumbled in apology.

  Elaina gave a tinkling laugh. “You are so darling! Most phantoms have so little power, they hardly even register when they cross the wards, but not you. Your powers rang like church bells, wild and unruly, they’re—”

  “—dangerous the longer you remained untrained.” Rowena sprawled back in her chair, took a sip of her wine, and smirked. “And for the record, I only came out of curiosity…to see exactly how long it will take for the council to quash you like a bug.”

  “They wouldn’t dare.” Elaina glared at Rowena, the two squabbling much like sisters. “Power is acquired through decades of experience. Most don’t become elites until well into their midlife. You won’t find those people strolling on the streets or shopping. They have people in their families to do that for them.”

  Eliana’s eyes darkened, and she looked off into the distance. “Those are the people you’re meeting with today. They will decide your future, child. They don’t want things to change. Tread carefully, little bridge. They’re ruthless and will gladly do whatever it takes to maintain their reign of terror over Central City, even destroy the city itself to make sure it never happens.”

  The woman blinked away the darkness and turned toward Annora, a sad smile on her face. “You need to go. They’re waiting for you. Be smart and be safe. The future of the phantom realm rests in your hands.”

  As quickly as they arrived, Elaina and Rowena were swallowed by the darkness and vanished. Or to be more precise, the darkness spit Annora back out into the real world still wearing the altered dress.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Sadie snapped, fury radiating from her, but the stink of fear clung to her. Then her eyes landed on the dress and her mouth dropped open. “What—”

  “The women in the wards said the other outfit wasn’t appropriate.” Annora smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, watching it shimmer as it caught the light. It was fancier than anything she’d ever owned, and she was afraid if she even moved, she might wreck it.

  Sadie’s eyes widened, her gaze flashing toward the wards, and she shook her head before she could ask any questions. “We don’t have time. The council will shut down the sessions in a few minutes. If we’re late and he discovers you waiting—”

  “I’ll find myself disappeared down some dark, deep hole.” She scurried after Sadie, both of them dashing down the now nearly empty hallways.

  “I’m not sure how much Edgar has told you, but things have changed a bit since he was last on the island.” Sadie had the grace to wince. “Whatever you do, don’t use your powers in front of the council. No matter what happens, they mustn’t learn of your abilities. If they believe you have any power, they’ll either try to claim you for their own or destroy you. If they think you’re weak, they’ll dismiss you.”

  Before Annora had a chance to ask any questions, they came to a stop in front of a set of huge gilded doors. Two soldiers stood at attention, eying both of them suspiciously. Thankfully, Sadie took the lead.

  “We’re reporting to the session as ordered.” Her tone was no-nonsense, her shoulders back, her expression blank.

  The guard on the right frowned, clearly not pleased at the unexpected interruption. He eyed them up and down, lingered on Annora’s dress long enough for her to become uncomfortable, then ultimately reached for the door.

  Sadie stepped aside and Annora realized that she was going to have to face Daxion and the council alone. She clenched her fists, bearing down hard on the darkness that tried to seep out between her fingers.

  Memories of the demands her uncle pounded into her when he used to parade her in front of prospective buyers came back in a rush. Her shoulders went back, her chin up, and every emotion was bottled up tight. She wasn’t to speak or react unless directed. It seemed appropriate to fall back on the old training.

  She glided into the room, her slippers a silent whisper across the floor. The chamber was set up like a courtroom, a giant, curved bench with six large, throne-like chairs behind it, every chair occupied by an elegantly dressed elder, although not all of them were really old enough to be considered elders. Annora was actually surprised to s
ee two women seated on the council.

  Everything was dark wood and light granite, bright lights streaming in from massive windows near the ceiling. Majestic was the only description that fit. The air in the room was cool with magic, and static tingled against her skin, seeking entrance.

  One of the guards entered with her, matching her step for step, every bit of him on alert, as if ready to tackle her if she dared approach the council.

  The discussion died off at their entrance, and Annora halted with the guard, standing front and center of the bench.

  She knew the instant Daxion recognized her—he stiffened almost imperceptibly, thunder darkening his eyes before he blinked it away, but the surge of emotions was telling.

  He never had any intention of going through with his part of the bargain and claiming her.

  Bastard.

  Now it was time to see if the gamble paid off—whether Daxion would claim her or not. Without her, he’d lose his only chance to finish off his dead wife.

  “What is this abomination doing here?” the woman on the end of the bench snapped, looking her up and down before giving her a moue of distaste. Two other men sneered, leaning back as if repulsed by her very presence. The two other people, while curious, keep their thoughts to themselves and their faces blank.

  Daxion gritted his teeth, seething as he glared at her, then put on a strained smile and rose to his feet. “I asked her to attend so I may officially claim my long-lost daughter and heir.”

  A fart could be heard after his announcement. One of the men and one woman seemed amused, but the other woman and two men were aghast. One of the older men who appeared amused leaned forward in his seat and surveyed her from head to foot. “Are you sure you want to claim it for your heir?”

  “Of course.” Daxion’s grin was more of a gritting of teeth. “With your approval, we’ll make things official with a claiming ceremony tomorrow evening.”