Catoria raises her own voice. “Darian spread his lies for too long. It’s time for you all to hear the truth.”
I grab Vivienne’s arm and give her a meaningful look. “It’s time,” I say. “Bring them here.” Her eyes light up, then she dashes into the tree line.
“I’m sure you’re wondering to what end Darian betrayed all his allegiances,” I say. Murmurs in the crowd quickly confirm my words. “He had been trying to create more of the Heartless, poisoning your waters with the same compound that was accidentally released a hundred years ago. He wanted an army, powered by magic-infused hearts that never need to be replaced. That’s why he wanted to capture Magi. He perfected a technique of draining magic from us and infusing it into a particular sort of stone. His goal was to secure the loyalty of those who relied on him and magic to live so he could use them to rule everything.”
Footfalls and rustling branches come from the woods. “Technocrats, you’ve been told only a tiny percentage of your population is born Heartless, but the truth is the number increases every year thanks to Darian and his poison. The ones from the hospitals in the city are here, behind me.”
Children and their nurses stream through the metal trees to the edge of the grassy plains. There are almost as many of them as there are Magi and Technocrats combined.
The enemy factions are floored. The murmurs become shouts of horror and rage.
Zandria holds up a hand, commanding attention. “We have a proposition. Magi, by accident or not, we are responsible for this blight. All these children born without hearts. Before the great wars, our ancestors tried to heal the breach between our people by finding a way to restore magic to the Technocrats.”
The anxiety in the crowds on both sides spikes, but I pick up my sister’s thread. “Long ago, we weren’t Magi and Technocrats. We were just . . . people. People who had magic and could use it on anything and everything. Then some were born without magic. And those with magic could only impact the natural, living world. We divided into two factions, but we’re all from the same family tree. Before the wars, some of the Magi and Technocrats banded together and formed the Alchemist Alliance, whose mission was to return us to our original, normal state. The Heartless are the result of a rogue attempt to do that gone horribly awry.”
I glance at my sister, hoping she’ll go along with this part of my plan. “My sister and I have the power to fix this. Our magic is the old magic restored. All Magi have long been taught that the one thing we can’t heal is the heart, because that’s where our magic resides. But that isn’t true. The ancient Magi had a spell, the Heartsong, that could do exactly that.” I smile at my sister. “We can heal the Heartless. All of them, given some time. You may have heard rumors of a boy healed, given a new flesh-and-blood heart. We did that, and we can produce him and his testimony as proof. Technocrats, if you lay down your weapons and agree to let the Magi live in peace, we will do this gladly. Magi, pull your magic back; we made this mess, and the Technocrats are not the enemies we’ve believed. It’s only the ones who’ve been power hungry, and this time, their leader was one of us.”
It feels like a lifetime passes before us, but it’s really only a few moments until the first Technocrat guard lays his sword on the ground. Then another follows. Then the rest of the company. Some angrily shove their way back into the city. But soon nearly the entire army has disarmed. All the while, the magic that once made the air fizz is drawn back. There are Magi dissenters too, who run into the forest. We’ll have to deal with them later. But for now, the tension on the plains finally begins to clear.
For the first time in over a century, Magi and Technocrats regard each other across the battlefield, but not with hatred and animosity. With curiosity, and mostly, regret.
CHAPTER 42
THE NEXT DAY, AFTER ARO HAS OFFICIALLY taken the reins at the Palace and we’ve all gotten some sleep, I find him in the lower levels, addressing a group of researchers. He seems more self-assured than I’ve ever seen him. His pale blue eyes glow with excitement.
“My parents gave Darian free reign to assign you whatever projects he deemed necessary. But many of those were in service to his own selfish goals and not the greater good. That’s why we’re putting a stop to them as of today. From now on, those of you who’ve been working on the new energy generator Darian demonstrated a few weeks ago will be reassigned. Most of you are not aware of this, but Darian created it to drain magic from Magi prisoners.” He notices me at the back of the room, and a small smile flits over his face. “We will not be pursuing that any further. We’re now allies with the Magi and will not conduct any human experiments in these labs. Is that understood?”
Most of the researchers gape, shocked by the revelation, but there are a couple who are not so surprised. Some must have been in on the full extent of the project in order to help Darian build those awful metal boxes. I make a mental note of who they are. Our new alliance will be an adjustment for all of us, and I need to mark who I can and cannot trust.
“I require an answer,” Aro says.
“Understood,” is the unanimous response.
“Good, thank you.”
One woman in the center of the crowd raises her hand. “What project will we be assigned to instead?” she asks.
“We’ve made many new discoveries lately, not the least of which is that both Technocrat and Magi have the same ancestors—who could use magic on all things, living or otherwise. We’ll have several new research projects, including investigating those bloodlines, determining how they diverged and how they might be merged again.”
Catoria peels off the wall behind him, bending her head toward the group in greeting.
“This is Catoria. She is highly knowledgeable about alchemicals. She will be leading a new research project and can offer insight into the bloodlines as well.”
Catoria wanted a new life now that her duty to the Sanctuary has been lifted. Aro was more than happy to oblige. She can make this program her own.
Aro lets Catoria take over and joins me in the doorway. “Come with me,” he whispers in my ear, and I slip my hand into his. Warmth tingles through my fingers, along with a jolt of happiness. I can walk through these halls for the very first time without any hint of fear.
He takes me on a route I know well. One I’ve missed. When he opens to the door to the garden, I inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of lush flowers and foliage. The sun illuminates the many shades of green, shot through with reds, yellows, whites, and my favorite blues and purples. Aro’s arms curl around my waist, and he rests his chin on my shoulder.
“For a while, I thought I’d never see this place again,” he says quietly.
“Me too,” I say. I should never have allowed myself to get attached to this place, this boy, but I did.
And I don’t have a single regret about either of those things.
We sit on the bench in the center, the same place where we ate lunch together so many times. Something flutters in my stomach. This garden is packed wall to wall with the ghosts of our memories and strange, secret courtship.
But there was a reason I went looking for Aro this morning, and it can’t wait a moment longer.
“Aro, I want to do something for you.”
He tilts his head quizzically at me. “And what would that be?”
I take his hands in mine. “Zandria and I are supposed to begin healing the Heartless children, but I want to use the Heartsong on you first. You deserve it the most. If you’re going to be king, you should be whole.”
When we finally deciphered the Heartsong, I wanted to use it on Aro right away. The only reason I didn’t was in case we needed to show the people of Palinor that he was Heartless first in order to win them over. It’s been chafing at me ever since.
His expression softens, his eyes sparkling earnestly. “Aissa, I’m already whole.”
I frown. “What?”
He laughs softly. “I’ve been thinking about this too, ever since Catoria first mentioned that
spell back in the Sanctuary.” He shakes his head. “I’m in no danger of dying now. My heart may be made of metal, but it will keep functioning as long as we both live. It’s part of me. The technology and the magic you gave me to keep it running—they make me me. If I’m going to rule over this land and both our peoples, it’s fitting for pieces of each to live in me. It isn’t a flaw; it’s an advantage. It puts me in a unique position to understand both. I don’t want to risk forgetting that.”
I gape at him. “But . . . I thought you wanted a real heart.”
He shrugs. “Once, yes, I dreamed of that. But the truth is, I have one. There’s no reason to worry about it stopping, yes? And even if I had a flesh-and-blood heart, we’d still be bonded, and the risk of dying together would be the same.”
“That’s true . . .” I say slowly, absorbing the full weight of his words. “The Binding rite connects us right down to our souls. That’s why it’s one of the few spells that can’t be undone.”
Aro smiles wide. “Then if anything, I’m safer with a metal heart.”
I laugh. “I suppose you are.”
His face grows serious. “There’s something I need to talk to you about too. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and I don’t believe the Technocrats’ system of governance is working.”
I snort. “Can’t say I disagree.”
“If the Magi and Technocrats are going to maintain peace, they need an equal voice.” He clears his throat and bites his lip. “I plan to write this into the laws of the land: from now on there must always be a representative from each faction ruling the country with equal say and power. Aissa, I want you to be co-regent with me.”
Warmth trills over me. I’ve been living day to day for such a long time, just hoping to make it to the next alive. I haven’t given much thought to what would happen if we won. But this is a solution I can get behind. And I believe I can persuade the rest of the Magi to as well.
I’ve always known we were equal to the Technos; having that officially acknowledged will go a long way to healing old wounds.
I kiss Aro, taking him by surprise and making him laugh. He pulls me into his arms, and my skin tingles pleasantly. “Yes,” I say. “I’d be honored.”
It has been two weeks since the standoff between the Magi and Technocrats on the plains outside the city. My sister and I have kept our promise, and the Magi and Technocrats have kept theirs. Word of what transpired—including the murder of the royals by their most trusted advisor—spread like wildfire throughout the city and beyond to anyone who didn’t witness it themselves. According to our Technocrat allies, Aro’s claim to the throne is widely supported, helped along by the fact that Zandria and I have spent every day since healing Heartless children. It’s a taxing, complex spell, but we’ve managed to heal five children a piece every day. It will take us a long time to get through all of the afflicted, but we’ve been working with the sickest first to buy a little time for the rest.
We’ve just said our goodbyes to the last two children of the day and their parents, who tearfully hugged their children to them as they thanked us. I think, perhaps, they don’t quite believe it’s real until it happens. Hope is a fragile thing, and the disappointment if it didn’t work would be too crushing to bear.
Sometimes we can’t help but get swept up in their gratefulness too. The chance to use our magic not just for devious things, but out in the open and to do good, is truly intoxicating.
Exhausted, my sister and I rest on the cushions in the small room in the Heartless hospital that was set up for the purpose of our task. She groans.
“There are more Heartless children than I ever realized,” she says. “I mean, I knew by the numbers you told me about that it had to be a lot. But seeing each and every one of them brings it to another level.”
“When we’re done, there will be none. And if any more are born with lingering aftereffects of the alchemicals Darian put into the water, we can heal them immediately. They won’t have to live with those monstrous devices inside them.” Not like Aro did, not like Leon’s daughter or Darian’s wife. No one else will be subjected to them ever again. We have the power to change that. Our magic has made it possible.
“I still can’t believe Aro turned down a real heart,” Zandy says.
I laugh. She has said this almost every day since I told her. “I was taken aback by it at first too. But he’s right—he doesn’t need it with the Binding rite in place. And I can appreciate that he wants to remember what he almost didn’t have. He doesn’t want to take a single thing he has now for granted. Not like he did before.”
Aro told me of his childhood in the Palace. As the prince, he received just about everything he desired, except his freedom and an assurance he’d live to take the throne one day. He had the best of everything, but his parents didn’t understand how to love someone like him. Thank the Anvil he had people like Leon in his life.
Zandria smiles slyly at me. “All I care about is that he doesn’t take you for granted.” She pauses. “And that he doesn’t rule like his parents.”
“Oh, he definitely won’t do either of those things, I’ll see to that.” My sister throws a pillow at me, and I catch it at my stomach.
My sister grows more serious. “I’ve not always liked Aro, but I’ve seen him with you and working with the Alliance. I believe he will be a fair ruler.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That is quite a concession, and I’m glad to hear it. Now, have you considered my proposal yet?”
Zandria props herself up on one elbow and faces me. “You mean the one where you’ve offered me a cushy job in the Palace?”
“It will probably be a lot less cushy than you think.”
After I agreed to be Aro’s co-regent, I asked Zandria to be captain of the Regency Guard—a hand-picked group of Technos and Magi who will be sworn to protect Aro and me, and all of Palinor’s citizens.
“As long as I get to choose the members of the guard myself, I’m in. Someone needs to look after you, and the Anvil knows Aro can’t do it.”
I laugh and throw the pillow back at her. “Absolutely. You can pick anyone you like.”
She grins. “Then I’ll start making my list.”
A few hours later, I find myself inside the Technocrat throne room for the first time. But it’s very different than I imagined. Months ago, I feared one day being dragged into this red-marbled room and imprisoned in a terrible metal suit, never to see the light of day again.
Instead I’m here with Aro at my side and a crowd of courtiers I’ve only seen and never met until recently. They’ll do anything to curry favor to the point of irritation. I’m beginning to understand why Aro always went out of his way to avoid them when we’d sneak through the halls, yet they’re important nonetheless. We need their backing to ensure the support of the entire city. The deaths of the king and queen sent shockwaves through Palinor, but these courtiers wasted no time mourning. They don’t care who has magic and who doesn’t; they only care about money and power and where they can get it. Ours has become a delicately balanced but mutually beneficial arrangement. A dance I’m still learning while Aro begrudgingly goes through the motions he knows well.
But so far it has worked. They’re delighted by my magic and Aro’s bizarre situation of being kept alive partly by machine and partly by magic. They see it as a good omen for the future and their own prospects. Like them or not, they’re on our side, and we need to keep them there.
The courtiers line the room alongside our friends like Vivienne and Leon and about half the remaining Magi, including Remy, Owen, Catoria, and everyone we rescued from the dungeons. In the wake of the revelation about Isaiah’s death and Darian’s betrayal, the Magi turned to Remy to guide them. He and the rescued Magi have persuaded them to recognize me and Aro as their ruling co-regents. We may not always have gotten along, but his heart is good, and he truly wants what’s best for the Magi.
I know Remy well enough to know that he’d have no qualm telling them—an
d me—if he didn’t believe this was the right path forward.
Owen will be joining the Regency Guard under Zandria’s command. He’d walk off a cliff at her direction, if only to make her laugh. He’s grown on all of us, becoming almost like the brother I never had, and much more than that to my sister.
Leon Salter stands a step above us on the dais with the thrones. In his hands are two crowns, which he crafted with help from Catoria: each one uses platinum and the black, shimmering marble from the ancient Magi. Aro’s is a band made primarily of platinum with a thin strip of black throughout, leading to the center of the crown with the Technocrat sigil imprinted on it in gold. Mine is mainly crafted of the black marble, with a platinum circle in the center imprinted with a carved black-marble tree.
My hands tremble unexpectedly. I reach for Aro’s, and he squeezes mine with a broad smile. All we’ve worked for is finally coming to fruition.
“Regents,” Leon says, holding up our crowns. “As Master Mechanic, I’ve been chosen from the Palinor guildmasters to grant you your titles and crowns. As decreed by King Arondel, son of Damon and Cyrene, the monarchy has ended. Instead, a new system of co-rule, a regency, will take its place in perpetuity. From now on, Palinor will always be governed by a representative of the Magi and the Technocrats until such a time that we find a way to make our bloodlines one again.”
Leon places a crown on each of our heads, then addresses the crowd. “I present Regent Arondel and Regent Aissa.”
The response is raucous and louder than I expected. “Long may they reign! Long may they reign!”
Aro lifts our clasped hands and we beam at each other. Our love, our reign, is the perfect blending of magic and technology.
From now on, we’re no longer Technocrats or Magi, but Alchemists.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THIS BOOK SERIES HAS LIVED IN MY HEAD AND HEART FOR A VERY long while, especially this second book, and I’m overjoyed that it is now out on bookshelves. The world of Twin Daggers and Heartless Heirs is one that’s dear to me, and while saying goodbye to these characters is bittersweet, I’m pleased with how they ended up. I hope you are too!
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