The shadow princess, p.22
The Shadow Princess, page 22
I move in a slow circle, taking it all in. The kitchen has a round table and four handmade but comfortable-looking chairs around it. The living area has two rocking chairs before a fireplace and a bed tucked away in a corner.
Heph retrieves three mugs from a kitchen cabinet, then makes his way over to a wooden keg he keeps in the corner. “I think a family reunion deserves a drink.” After he pours three mugs of ale and hands them out, we take seats at the kitchen table.
“How much do you know about what has happened to Kestevayne?” Bastien inquires, getting right to the point.
“Some,” Heph replies gravely. “We get travelers through here who pass news along. I imagine it’s the same things you’ve been hearing.”
“Do you know why we’re here?” Bastien asks.
“I assume you want to know about blood magic.” Heph looks from Bastien to me.
“Yes,” I say. “We need to find a way to defeat Ferelith, but her blood magic is too strong.”
“I can teach you what you need to know,” Heph says confidently.
“Before we get to that,” Bastien interrupts, “you need to assure me of your loyalty to Thalia. I don’t quite understand why you were banished from Kestevayne, so—”
“Bastien,” I exclaim.
“No, Thalia,” Heph says, holding up his hand. He looks at Bastien with respect. “He’s right. You need to understand my background for you to trust what I’m telling you. You were too young when I was sent away to know what really happened.”
“You said you maintained a relationship with my parents.” It just now hits me that he was never fully banished, not from my parents’ hearts, at any rate.
“Did you know the penalty for what I did was death?” Heph asks. Stunned, I rear back in my seat.
He nods with a somber expression. “Your parents had the right to imprison me for life, execute me, or banish me.”
“I… I… had no clue,” I stammer.
“What were your crimes?” Bastien asks.
Heph lifts his mug and first takes a long pull. “To understand my crime, you need to understand blood magic. It’s been around for thousands upon thousands of years, long before Vyronas was ever created from a meteor stone. But when Vyronas was created by the founding druid daemons, a ban on such magics was put into place and very severe penalties were enacted. That ban and those penalties endured over time, but that’s not to say they were always observed. There were always practitioners of dark magic, particularly in the Scrinia line.”
I sort of know this—it’s part of our history lessons when we learn to develop our magic—but because blood magic is forbidden, nothing of substance was ever taught.
Heph sets his cup on the table and leans forward, clasping his hands as he looks between me and Bastien. “The principle is very basic—blood equals fuel. In other words, the use of blood lends more power to any spell, potion, or incantation a sorcerer attempts. It can be something as innocent as lending a drop of your own blood to a protection amulet you might give a family member or as sinister as using the blood of a sacrifice to raise a demon.”
“Ferelith has summoned demons from the Underworld,” Bastien says.
Heph nods. “It’s easy enough to do if you’re willing to spill blood. But that showcases a very fine point. Blood magic is not inherently dark or evil. The distinction lies within the person using the blood. What is their intent? It’s often not all black-and-white.”
“Then why was it unilaterally banned?” I ask.
“Because even those who use it for good are always vulnerable to the pull of more power that can be bought with blood magic. It was safest to outlaw it altogether.”
“How did you learn it?” Bastien inquires.
“There are enough history books out there with the knowledge. There are people who secretly practice blood magic and have handed that knowledge down through their families. Secret societies that hoard spells of power amplified with blood. Old warlocks who would be happy to share several beers with you and tell you their secrets when they’re drunk. The information is there, and I merely found it. My goal at first was pure research. But soon studying it wasn’t enough. I wanted to test it, and I started out slow. With just a drop, my spells were stronger and lasted longer.”
Heph pauses to sip his ale, something like shame in his expression. “It wasn’t long before I became obsessed with blood magic. I started experimenting in earnest. First, I used my own blood, as I learned that sacrificing my own with good intent always produced favorable results. However, I’m ashamed to admit I was fascinated when I realized the more powerful spells always needed the sacrifice of another’s blood to work. And if the sacrifice included taking a life, well… the spell was practically invincible.”
I gasp at the implication. “You didn’t…”
Heph’s eyes fill with tears. “I swear to you, Thalia, that I never had it in me to take an innocent life. But I did kill someone for their blood.”
My stomach rolls, and I swallow hard. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” he says bitterly. “Back then, it was an easy enough choice for me to make. Oh, I could tell you I had nothing but altruistic ideas of how to protect Kestevayne with the powerful new magics I was learning, but now… I realize I was obsessed more with the idea of making the perfect spell. I concocted a plan to bleed someone who deserved to die. A convicted murderer who had been sentenced to death.”
Heph trails off, seemingly lost in his memories. I glance over at Bastien, who wears a steely expression. “What happened next?”
“I used a captivity spell, brought the prisoner to my apartment, and drained him dry. I kept telling myself he was destined to die anyway. It made me physically sick to watch his life ebb away, but at that point, there was no going back. I completed my spell, and it was everything I’d imagined it would be. I had found a way to make spells that could not be defeated.”
I’m nauseated, partly because I’m not sure how to feel about Heph’s revelations. On the one hand, it was wrong… so very wrong to choose to take someone’s life. But on the flip side, Heph didn’t kill an innocent. He took someone who already had a death sentence imposed upon him.
“I don’t know how to reconcile this in my heart,” I mutter, pushing back from the table. My hand presses to my chest as I feel bile rising.
“You’ll never know how much I regret what I did, Thalia.” Heph’s misery is clear in his tone. “Your parents spared my life when I was found out and banished me here to near isolation. It was far better than I deserved.”
My eyes beseech Bastien’s for guidance. I feel like I’m ready to bolt and leave this nastiness behind.
Bastien’s voice is deep, reassuring as he surprisingly advocates for Heph. “Like he said, it’s not always black-and-white, Thalia. I can tell his actions weigh heavily on his conscience.”
“You’ll never know how much,” Heph says, his face contrite. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t struggle with the right and wrong of what I did.”
“And you never practiced it again?” I ask, crossing my arms over my stomach.
Heph shakes his head. “Never.”
I can see the truth of his regret. He lost his entire family because he got sucked in too deep. He killed a man and will always bear the weight of that. My heart breaks for Hephastus—he crossed a line he shouldn’t have and paid for his crime with everything he held dear.
“You said blood magic was unbeatable,” I say, returning to the table. “If that’s true, how do we defeat Ferelith?”
“Blood magic against regular magic is superior in most circumstances. To put yourself on even ground, you would need a blood magic practitioner to help you create spells for both defense and offense.”
“Can you teach me how to do it?” I ask. “My magic is strong. I’m a quick study.”
Heph is shaking his head before I even get my last words out. “I can’t do it.”
“Why not?” I demand. “We’re talking about saving Kestevayne. I’ll do anything it takes.”
“I believe you, dear child,” Heph says as he sits back in his chair. He looks tired and defeated. “But Ferelith is too powerful, and you’d never be able to learn enough in time to thwart her. More importantly, you don’t have it in you to take a life, and that’s the type of blood you’d need to match up against her.”
His words hit like a sledgehammer, and I feel numb as hope drains from me.
“So… Vyronas is doomed?” I whisper, more to myself than anyone.
My eyes move to Bastien, and I can see not only his frustration but also sorrow for me.
I look to Heph. “Is there nothing we can do?”
Pushing up from the table, Heph goes to the kitchen sink and rests his hands on the edge. He looks out the window. I glance at Bastien, and he shrugs.
I rise, walk to my uncle, and place a hand on his shoulder. He stiffens, refuses to look at me.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask.
He shakes his head, staring blankly out the window.
“Heph… what is it?” My voice bristles with anger, because now I can tell he’s hiding something big.
“I promised your mother I’d never tell you,” he says shamefully, finally giving me his regard. Tears of regret well. “But… I also know she’d want me to help you in any way I could to save your kingdom.”
My blood turns to ice. Whatever he’s about to tell me is going to change my world, and probably not for the better.
But he said it can save us from Ferelith.
With a quaking voice, I say, “Tell me.”
“You possess shadow magic inside you, Thalia. It’s dark, untapped power, and it could be the difference in waging this war with Ferelith.”
I frown at him. “Shadow magic? What is that? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Heph turns to face me fully, his expression troubled. “It’s magic born of darkness. It’s the opposite of light magic.” He spreads his arms outward to indicate everything around us. “When Vyronas was established, it was created with basic stone magic, but with good intentions. From the start, the ley lines that powered our realm were considered light magic. Those terms aren’t really used these days, but I suppose it all has to do with the basic way in which our dimension was conceived.”
I look back at Bastien, who rises slowly from his chair and comes to stand at my side.
“Now, that’s not to say the people who use magic in Vyronas are all well-intentioned people. Anyone can warp our realm’s inherent magic for nefarious purposes. It’s what Ferelith has done by adding blood.”
“So blood magic isn’t dark magic?” I ask, confused.
Heph shakes his head. “No. Shadow magic is created from a place where the intent is nefarious from the start. Its origin is wicked.”
“That’s not Vyronas,” Bastien says. “You imply it comes from somewhere else.”
Heph rubs the back of his neck, tension evident in the stiffness of his moves. He looks pained but resolved. “You inherited shadow magic from your father. It’s rare and not of this world.”
My eyebrows knit together. “You mean… my father went to another dimension and got this, um, shadow magic, and then I inherited it?”
Heph’s mouth flattens as he grimaces. “No. The shadow magic comes from the Underworld.”
Ridiculous, and I scoff audibly. “My father never went to the Underworld.”
“That is correct,” Heph murmurs sadly. “But Jaron isn’t your biological father.”
I stumble backward, and Bastien’s hands go to my waist to steady me. “You lie,” I accuse bitterly.
“I don’t,” Heph says, lifting his chin. “But you said you want to defeat Ferelith, and this is the only way. For you to know the truth and seek your legacy from your real father. While I can teach you how to wield blood magic to amplify your light magic, you don’t have the time to master it to the degree needed to take on Ferelith. Shadow magic is the only way, and even then, I don’t know if it’s enough.”
My head hurts with information overload. I’m entirely confused about the various forms of magic.
Light, dark, shadow, blood.
My throat is so dry, I can barely croak out the words. “Who is my father?”
“A Dark Fae by the name of Amell,” Heph says quietly. “He’s an original fallen dark angel, and many call him the prince of the Underworld.”
Everything spins and my vision blurs before blackness presses in on me. I feel my body starting to fall, Bastien there to catch me, and then everything goes dark.
CHAPTER 24
Thalia
Something strong and peppery hits my nasal passages, and I come out of my faint quickly, growling as I bat away whoever’s hand is in my face.
Bastien looms before me, Heph hovering over his shoulder. I turn my head and see I’m on the bed. My fingers against my temple, I try to massage away the headache I’ve awoken with.
Handing something to Heph—presumably whatever he just had me sniff to wake up—Bastien bends closer to peer at me with worry. “How do you feel?”
“Like I got sucker punched,” I mutter. Straight to the heart. “And embarrassed I fainted.”
My gaze slides to Heph as I struggle to sit up. Bastien’s hand goes behind my back, and he helps me transition to an upright position on the edge of the mattress. “My father isn’t my father?” I ask, not able to help the slightly begging tone in my question. Perhaps I heard him wrong.
“Jaron was, of course, your father in all ways that mattered,” Heph says. “But biologically, he wasn’t.”
“I don’t understand.” I rub my hands over my face before looking back to him. “How did that even happen? Was my mother… was she…”
“Not forced,” Heph rushes to assure me, and I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.
“Did she cheat on my father?” I exclaim, my question woven with a note of hysteria.
“It’s not that simple,” Heph hedges.
“It is that simple,” I snarl, coming off the bed in one fell swoop and brushing past Bastien. There’s not a lick of dizziness within me. Pure fury drives my body. “Explain how she got pregnant with another man while married to my father.”
“She did it for your father.” Heph stares at me, and I can see he believes that.
“She slept with another man for my father?” I ask suspiciously.
“Not a man… a Dark Fae.”
I shudder, knowing there’s something inside me that could potentially be insidious. It makes me sick to my stomach again.
Bastien reaches out and links his fingers with mine. It immediately calms and tempers my frustration. “Tell me the story.”
“Your mother and father tried for years to have a baby, and it left both of them so very sad, particularly your father. He desperately wanted children, while your mom would have been at peace either way. Concerned there was something wrong with her, she hoped to find a magical way to fix it. So she came to me for help.”
“To use blood magic?” I ask, aghast she’d do such a thing.
“She was desperate to make your father happy. She loved him beyond all measure, and if there was a way to do it, she was willing to break the very laws he would be forced to uphold if she were caught.”
“What exactly did you two do?” I whisper, and Bastien squeezes my fingers.
“A spell,” Heph replies uneasily. “A simple one using only a drop of her blood and a scrying pond. She was asking for a way to have a baby. She only wanted information.”
“And she got a Dark Fae instead?” Bastien guesses.
Heph’s nods sadly. “Amell. He runs the Underworld for Queen Kymaris.”
“Kymaris is dead,” Bastien advises him.
“Oh,” he mumbles, taking a few steps backward and shoving his hands in his pockets. His head bows as he considers this. “And Amell… what is he now?”
“I have no clue,” Bastien replies. “Never heard of him before.”
“Can we get back to what happened with my mom and Amell?” I snap irritably.
“I wasn’t there for the conversation. He appeared, said he was responding to her summoning. He told me to leave them alone.”
“And you did?” I snarl, advancing on my uncle. “You left her alone with a Dark Fae from the Underworld?”
“Not at first,” Heph says with his chin lifted. “I refused, even though he could’ve killed me with a snap of his fingers. But then he told your mom that he had the answers to her problems, but he wanted privacy with her. Your mom insisted I leave.”
“You shouldn’t have,” I accuse, but I also know it might be unfair to say that. If Heph didn’t leave, my mom could’ve easily bent distance with Amell for privacy somewhere else if she was intent on hearing what he had to say.
“So you don’t know what happened?” Bastien presses.
“I do, because Selena told me later. Amell said that Jaron was physically unable to have children but that he could help get her pregnant. He promised her the child would look like Selena so Jaron would never know.”
“And she took his word for it?” My voice is shrill, unrecognizable. “She trusted an evil creature from Hell?”
“Whatever her frame of mind was at that time, she did.”
“And exactly how did he help her get pregnant?” Acidic fury burns in my chest, and it threatens to choke me.
“Your mom didn’t tell me the details, only that Amell wanted something from her. She never told me exactly what happened, but—”
“He forced her—”
“No,” Heph cuts in over me. “She assured me she wasn’t forced to do anything she wasn’t willing to do, and she actually seemed grateful for it. She was at peace after her meeting with him, but if you’re asking whether you were conceived the old-fashioned way, then the answer is yes. Your mother had sex with Amell, and she conceived that very night.”
It takes all my will to choke my next words. “Did my father know?”
Heph smiles at me sadly. “I don’t know. Selena and I never talked about it again.”
