Chapter 15
Less than Sanguine
Her aunt was scheduled to arrive that afternoon.
Elena and her mother had talked about how the initial meeting should go, at least as far as the elements they could control in advance. Would be better to sit formally in the throne room and make an early, dramatic show of power? Or would it be better to choose an out-of-the-way meeting room in order to maintain some semblance of secrecy? Should Elena do the talking so her mother wouldn’t have to, or would that rob the queen of necessary power? They would take every magical precaution, but would it be wise to also have physical security present? There were advantages and disadvantages to every possibility, and the two women weighed and measured every option as carefully and thoroughly as possible.
The planning didn’t stop either the fear or the hope that raged through them both, emotions that they each fought so valiantly to hide. But it also kept them from having enough time to think about either emotion, which was almost the same thing in the end.
“You look terrifying,” Elena said approvingly, watching her mother make microscopic adjustments to her hair in the mirror. It was swept up in a much more complicated version of her usual severe knot, a set of sleek and sturdy metal hair sticks helping to hold everything in place. Alan had long ago sharpened the tips to razor points, capable of puncturing the skin to a depth of six inches.
The queen’s eye makeup offered a far simpler intimidation, changing their color into the cold, intimidating gray of a sky in the bleakest winter. When combined with her mother’s iciest glare, the one that Elena had seen reduce even the bravest men to quivering wrecks, it could be as powerful as a weapon.
Her mother smiled, eyes warming enough to ruin the effect of the makeup. “Flatterer.” She brushed her fingertips against her daughter’s cheek. They were alone in the queen’s rooms, sitting before her dressing mirror as if they were primping for a party.
For a few precious seconds, Elena let herself cherish the odd intimacy. Their attempts to protect one another usually pushed them apart, but when they had a common enemy it only brought them closer together. “You taught me well.”
The queen made an amused sound. “You look quite intimidating yourself, my love. You’d be a wonderful—” She seemed to catch herself, stopping what she’d been about to say. Her smile lost a little of its sincerity, and she pulled her hand away. “Never mind. I’m being fanciful.”
Elena caught her mother’s hand, giving it a brief squeeze. “Can you imagine the two of us together at meetings?” she asked lightly, pretty sure she knew what her mother had been about to say. “Any poor fool who caught a glare from both of us would melt on the spot.”
The queen’s expression warmed again. “We would be quite the duo, wouldn’t we?” Then she took a steadying breath, blinking hard against the sudden wetness in her eyes. “And if I keep this up, I’ll have to let Renae be the one to reapply my makeup. She was so disappointed I didn’t let her help with it the first time.”
“It’s for the best. I don’t think she quite understands the concept of war paint.” Elena made herself turn away, checking her own hair and makeup in the mirror. The effect wasn’t nearly as striking as it was with her mother, but she flatly refused to be the weak point in the equation. “Are you sure you want me to be the first one to speak to Aunt Ariadne?”
Her mother met her gaze in the mirror. “Would you prefer not to?” Elena could hear the protectiveness in her voice, quieter but no less solid than what she’d heard so often from Alan and Marie. She wondered how she could have missed it before.
Shaking off the regret, Elena took a deep breath. “I’m fine with it. I stopped being terrified by the thought of her years ago.” She turned her head, meeting her mother’s eyes again as she let some of her uncertainty emerge in her voice. “But I’m afraid it won’t make as much of an impact coming from me. She’s never even seen me, and I’m certain she’ll be able to sense that you’re a more powerful sorceress than I am. She has no reason to fear me.”
Her mother pressed her lips together, not able to say anything. “I can’t trust myself enough to be the first one to speak,” she said finally, voice quiet. “I’m not certain enough of what would come out.”
Elena knew how much such an admission cost. They were both trying so hard. “Do you have any suggestions for what I should say? I’m tempted to actually try and write out a speech, but those are never good for more than a few seconds into the actual situation.” She smoothed a hand down the edge of her sleeve, straightening it. “No matter how much effort I put into the preparation, I’m sure it will sound worse than useless the moment it leaves my mouth.”
“Trust your instincts.” The queen laid her hand over Elena’s. “You had wonderful ideas during our discussions.”
Despite the tension thrumming through her, Elena felt the corners of her mouth curve upward. It seemed to happen more and more often, these days. “They were easier to come up with when I thought you would be the one who had to say them.”
Her mother stood, smiling as well. “You’ve discovered the secret of government.” Holding her daughter’s face in her hands, she pressed a kiss against her forehead. “We should go. We’ll want to get into position before Cam’s siblings arrive.”
Elena took a deep breath, then pushed herself to her feet. “Is Bishop there already, or will he meet us?”
The queen’s eyes flickered away briefly. “He’s preparing the room for us.”
Watching this, Elena hesitated. Her mother didn’t seem upset, but this felt like too serious an issue to simply accept the silence. “Does he know he needs to stay?”
A faint flush colored the queen’s cheeks. Seeing it, Elena felt immensely better. “He knows.”
“Cam will meet the team bringing in Ariadne and guide them here. He’ll send a page ahead to let us know that they’re coming.”
Her mother squared her shoulders. “Ready?”
Far from it. Still, she lifted her chin. “I’m ready.”
Bishop had modified a meeting room into a more discreet version of the throne room, with the long table serving as a rough shield between the chairs and Ariadne. Bishop insisted on remaining standing, positioning himself at her mother’s right hand.
A small eternity later, a page alerted them that the group was on their way. Elena had long ago locked down her emotions, making absolutely certain nothing would slip and lead to an unexpected crack in their armor. Now she focused on her personal shields, sealing and strengthening them against any unexpected attack.
They were ready when Cam opened the door. He stepped into the room first, followed by the rest of the team. She recognized Laurel, bringing in Ariadne by her magic-deadening cuffs. “Your Majesty.” He nodded to the queen. “Your Highness.” He nodded to Elena, then stepped to one side and unsheathed his sword. “Ariadne Coppin.”
“Thank you.” The queen motioned to Laurel. “You have fulfilled your contract well, but we have enough here to deal with her. You may go.”
Laurel hesitated, then looked over at her brother. When he tilted his head toward the door, she and the rest of her team left the room.
Elena’s first startled thought was that this stranger looked so much like her mother. Ariadne’s hair was lighter, almost white, and the crow’s feet around her eyes were deeper. But the shape of her face was nearly identical to the one who had sung Elena to sleep at night, her eyes the same shifting gray. It was foolish, but Elena hadn’t been prepared for it.
A similar surprise was reflected in the woman’s eyes, and for just a second her expression went raw. “You look just like—” Ariadne stopped herself with an almost physical effort, wrestling her features back into the composed blankness she’d worn when she first stepped into the room. That, too, struck Elena as painfully familiar.
Rather than acknowledge what had just happened, Ariadne bowed low. “Your Highness. Your Majesty.” Her voice caught, briefly, on the second honorific. “I am your servant.”
Elena glanced over at her mother. The queen’s jaw was like stone, her hands gripping the arms of her chair painfully tight. She looked like she wanted to close her eyes, but didn’t quite dare.
Every protective instinct Elena possessed wanted to make certain all of her aunt’s attention was on her. “Ms. Coppin,” she announced, putting all the frost she possessed into the words. “Tell us why you’re here.”
Ariadne’s eyes flickered upward briefly to take in Cam’s presence, then met Elena’s gaze with a look that seemed to ask if the younger woman was being entirely serious. When the only response was stony silence, the sorceress bowed her head again. “I am here to repair a grievous injustice I have committed, Your Highness.”
It was exactly what they’d hoped she’d say. But they had no reason to trust the words. “Why now? Your injustice was committed nearly two decades ago. Did you perhaps get lost in the forest finding your way back to our door?”
Ariadne flinched at that, the reaction too sharp and immediate to be successfully hidden. It took a few extra beats for her to respond. “Does it matter?”
Next to Elena, the burst of her mother’s tension felt like the moment just before a lightning strike. “How dare you say those words to me after everything that’s happened between us?” the queen snapped, rising to her feet. She didn’t shout, but each word still seemed painfully loud. “As if the last eighteen years were nothing more than a messy technical detail you didn’t want to bother explaining to a client.”
Ariadne didn’t answer, her head still bowed. Elena tensed, torn between shaking some kind of response out of the woman and staying silent, letting her mother keep the reins of the conversation.
A second later, her mother decided for her. “Ariadne!” The pain in her voice scraped at Elena, who pushed it deeper under the cold. “Answer me!”
Her aunt jerked upright as if yanked, and for the briefest second the look on her face was as naked and bloody as an open wound. “I thought she was dead!”
The silence that fell after that was so thick that Elena could almost feel the weight of it. She glanced over at her mother, who was staring at Ariadne as if she’d never seen her before, then met Cam’s eyes before she’d even realized she’d done it. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, as if saying he was ready to follow whatever lead she chose to give him.
It was, Elena would reflect later, far more reassuring than it probably should have been.
She stood, attempting to project command with every line of her body. “Explain.”
Ariadne’s gaze snapped to Elena’s, a dozen different emotions chasing each other across her aunt’s eyes. Then the older woman clamped them shut, once again forcing her control back into place. “The curse was designed to slow down a person’s bodily functions to a point near death. In an adult, the result would be a timed coma. In a child that had only begun his or her development, however, it seemed likely that the effects—” The word caught, ever so briefly. “that the effects would be fatal.”
“They nearly were,” Illiana bit out, the words icy enough to burn. For her mother’s sake, Elena hoped no one else had recognized the faint tremor behind them. She knew she should be horrified by the implication of what had almost happened to her, but she was cold enough now to be numb to anything.
Ariadne flinched again, her newly-regained control already cracking and breaking. She took a step forward. “Ana, I—”
Everything happened at once. The queen flinched at the pet name, recoiling as if she’d been physically hit. Elena stepped forward, wanting to deflect Ariadne’s attention away from her mother. Cam’s arm shot out to block Ariadne’s path, suggesting he’d do far more if she tested him. Her aunt whipped her head around to glare at Cam, her anger flaring wildly, and Elena started gathering her magic for a protective strike.
Ariadne’s gaze snapped back around to face Elena, and she realized that the older woman had sensed the beginning stages in the spell. Elena stared her down, keeping the magic ready in a clear sign that she was more than willing to strike, if necessary.
“How much training have you had?” Ariadne asked.
It was such an absurd question, given the situation, and Elena could practically feel the anger rise up from both her mother and Cam. The chill inside her own chest, however, simply wanted all of this to be over. She needed this woman away from the people she cared about. “Why were you remotely accessing the spell?”
It was easier for Ariadne to regain her control, this time. “I only recently returned to this region, and it was soon after that I discovered you were still alive.” She kept her gaze fixed on Elena, her voice as devoid of emotion as she could make it. “As time passed, I became more and more convinced that I needed to at least attempt to undo what I had done. Since I doubted I would be allowed access to you, I attempted to work remotely.”
Elena knew the story couldn’t really be that simple, but the truth was that everything Ariadne said was suspect. “How do we know you’re not going to simply cause more damage if we give you access to the curse?”
Ariadne hesitated, as if her voice had failed her. “What further harm could I do?” Then she took a deep breath, slowly letting it out again. “I allowed your soldiers to bring me here because I need assistance. I didn’t build a solid foundation for the curse because I never meant for it to be undone. The calculated instability of the curse was another defense—if someone tried to untangle it, it would collapse and cause even more damage. I need as many skilled hands as possible to help me hold everything together while I unwind it.”
Elena watched her, thinking about her mother’s reaction to Ariadne’s attempts to manipulate the spell. “Did you know that breaching the shields would make you sick as well?”
For a second, it looked as though Ariadne was going to argue. Then she bit the words back. “No. I hadn’t known.” She sounded tired now, which Elena trusted more than the guilt. “I need both of you for that reason alone. There are no records of curses set through the blood bond. No precedents. If all three of us aren’t in the circle when we break through into the heart of the curse, I truly don’t know what will happen.”
That seemed like a truth that was impossible to doubt or argue with. Elena glanced at her mother for confirmation, then spoke for them both. “Fine. We’ll work together to clean up your mess, but know that you are here as a prisoner, not a guest.” When Ariadne opened her mouth to speak, Elena lifted a hand to stop her. “Once everything’s been prepared, we’ll set up the spell circle. It will include the three of us, as well as another sorcerer and one of the original magic mirrors. Before that happens, you will give us all the information you have on the curse’s construction and your plan of attack. We’ll have them independently verified before we hold the circle.”
That wasn’t precisely true. Braeth was better at looking for magical traps than the rest of them, but what she really wanted him to do was help them understand the situation from as many angles as possible. She profoundly disliked surprises, and knowing all the possible alternatives would make it less likely that something would rise out of the darkness and bite her. Or, more precisely, yank her back down into the darkness with it.
It took a moment before her aunt responded. “I’ll do what I can. I work more by instinct than specific procedure, so I unfortunately can’t make any assurances on how comprehensive my initial round of notes will be. My documentation process has always been haphazard, at best.” She paused. “If I could take another look at the curse to refresh my memory—”
Elena cut Ariadne off with a shake of her head. They had accepted that this was the wisest course of action, but they weren’t about to trust her yet. “We look together or not at all.”
Ariadne hesitated, as if weighing further argument. Next to Elena, the queen’s fingers clenched. “Do not test us on this, Ariadne.”
Her aunt’s expression went blank again, and after a single frozen heartbeat she lifted her bound hands. Her gaze stayed firmly away from her sister’s, as if catching even a glimpse of the queen would somehow be fatal. “It’s difficult to write like this.”
Elena motioned to Cam, and he used a key to unlock the connector between the two cuffs. Ariadne’s hands could separate now, but the cuff around each wrist would still keep her from using magic. “We’ll remove the cuffs before we cast the circle,” Elena said. “Until then, keeping your magic locked away is the wisest course of action for everyone.”
Ariadne hands never moved to her newly freed wrists. Her every movement was careful, as if designed not to startle. “Everyone?”
Elena kept her voice even. “It removes any temptation you might have to cause us concern. If you have any value for your continued health, you’ll agree that this is the wisest course of action for you as well.”
Rather than seem at all threatened, Ariadne gave her a thoughtful look. “I have a feeling you would have made a magnificent evil sorceress,” she said, her voice carrying shades of fascination, pride and even wistfulness. “I suspect I would have enjoyed training you.” Then, knowing the value of a good closing line as much as any evil sorceress, she turned to Cam. “I presume it’s your responsibility to show me to my room?”
Cam’s gaze went to Elena, making it obvious that he wasn’t about to go anywhere without word from her, and she nodded. He hesitated for a beat longer, worry for her shining in his eyes, then he turned and ushered Ariadne out of the room. Slowly, Elena and her mother sat down.
Bishop was the first to break the silence, resting a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I take it Braeth completed the containment spells on her room last night?”
At the contact, the tension in the queen’s body eased ever so slightly. “He used his entire repertoire, three of which are no longer approved by the Council.” She lifted a hand to cover Bishop’s. “I told him the Council would never have to know.”
Elena closed her eyes, wondering if she should put in some deliberate effort to try and push the cold aside. Even as she had the thought, a part of her knew it wasn’t practical—she would need it again the next time they spoke to Ariadne. It was one of her strongest defense mechanisms, and her body had decided it couldn’t be lowered yet. It made sense to listen to it, even her fingers felt cold.
“Elena.” Her mother reached across the space between them, hand wrapping around her daughter’s as if she had somehow heard that last thought. “Forgive me. I should have never put you in that position.”
“As if I would have left you to deal with her alone.” The warmth from the contact seeped into Elena, almost too much. But she clung to it. “There’s something she’s not telling us.”
The queen’s expression darkened, making it clear that she had recognized the same thing. Then she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said firmly, lifting her daughter’s hand to press a kiss against it. “I would make a deal with a castle full of devils if it would mean saving you.”
Elena squeezed her mother’s hand, something hot and painful moving deep in her chest. Even the chill inside her couldn’t seem to touch it. “As if I would leave you alone to deal with them, either.”
Memory
Early winter, 19 years ago
“I know you feel like you need to be thorough, Ana, but this is getting ridiculous.” Ariadne threw her hands in the air, giving them an extra little flourish for dramatic effect. Her tower was far more of a mess than it had been, now that Illiana was no longer here to clean up after her sister. “Just grab the man’s blood and let me finish this! I’ll curse him before he has any chance of catching you.”
Illiana’s hands were held tight behind her back, though it was entirely possible Ariadne wouldn’t have noticed the way her fingers were clenching. She had been reporting by mirror for a month now, hoping to delay this particular meeting for as long as possible. Unfortunately, no delay tactic lasted forever. “It’s more complicated than that, Ari. There are a lot of factors I need to account for.”
Ariadne made an exasperated noise, pushing through the papers on a table as if looking for something. “You don’t always have to double check everything, Ana. You’ll never make a proper evil sorceress if you insist on obsessing every single little detail.”
That hadn’t been what Illiana meant, but she’d known her sister would interpret it like that. It wouldn’t have occurred to Ariadne that her studious, obedient little sister would do anything that might be worrying enough to spy on. It was trust, in a way, and more than Ari gave anyone else.
Thinking of it twisted Illiana’s stomach. But the thought of Thomas, the animation in his face shut down by her sister’s curse, broke her heart.
“Besides, the client keeps coming around asking me how far along we are, and there are only so many times you can threaten a man.” Her nose wrinkled briefly in distaste. “If he comes around again, I’ll have to turn him into a frog and lose the commission on principle.”
Illiana leapt on the comment, crossing her sister’s workroom as she spoke. “Actually, that might be a smart idea. You’ll get the reputation as being ruthless, and if we tell King Randall what the cousin was planning he’ll probably pay you double.”
She’d tried to keep her voice as calm and disinterested-sounding as possible, but Ariadne’s gaze snapped to Illiana. Her older sister narrowed her eyes. “Where is this coming from?”
Illiana froze in place. Nerves caught in her throat, but she forced her breathing to stay slow and even. “It just makes sense.” She’d worked through a dozen different possibilities for this conversation, and this was the only one that hadn’t ended in complete disaster. “An evil sorceress of your caliber shouldn’t have to put up with a client annoying her like this. If we get King Randall to reward you, you’ll teach your old client a lesson and still get paid.”
Ariadne straightened, turning to face her sister fully. “I don’t get rewarded. I take what I want.”
“Then we won’t bother with King Randall.” Illiana said each word with careful precision, as if they were runes she was inscribing in a circle. “Just turn the client into your animal of choice and take his money. If you wanted to, you could even turn the curse back on him.”
Ariadne seemed to actually consider this, but then she shook her head. “No. It’s unprofessional.” A gleam lit in her eye. “Besides, a king is a far more worthy target for my skills than some ridiculous second cousin. Anyone and his troll can curse a pathetic hanger-on.”
Panic pushed her further than her normal caution would have allowed. “We can find you a better target! Thomas’s kingdom is so small it’s hardly worth worrying about.” She took a step toward her sister. “Please, Ari. Let’s find you something better.”
Ariadne stared at her little sister in complete astonishment. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that passionate about anything,” she said, surprise melting away into interest. “Once we’ve finished this, maybe we can—”
Suddenly, Ariadne cut off whatever else she’d been about to say. Silence fell for a full thirty seconds, just long enough for Illiana to realize the mistake she’d made. When Ariadne spoke again, her voice was ice cold. “You called him Thomas.”
The knot inside Illiana’s stomach tightened to the point of pain. But her sister clearly wasn’t in the mood for mercy. “That’s his name.”
“Which you hadn’t used at any previous point in the conversation.” Despite the chill remaining in her voice, anger was a simmering heat in Ariadne’s eyes. “You were trying to con me, sister dear.”
“No, I was trying to find a way out of this for all of us.” Illiana took another step forward, no longer trying to hide the plea in her voice. “I didn’t want to just throw myself at you sobbing. But there are options—“
“I have tried for ages to get you more involved in the work. Ages.” Ariadne’s anger had a hard edge to it, meant to cut, and Illiana took a step back without even realizing she’d done it. “I sent you out alone on this assignment to prove how much faith I had in your abilities.”
“You sent me on that assignment because you hate doing the grunt work.” Hearing the resentment in her own voice, Illiana pushed the feeling aside as quickly as possible. “I’m not asking you to abandon the case, Ariadne. Just change it!”
“Why? Because you’ve taken pity on some stupid helpless puppy of a king?” Ariadne’s fingers moved, and Illiana realized to her horror that her sister was gathering magic. “Do you really think he cares about a little mouse like you? He’s a noble, just like Mother and Father! You know as well as I do you’ll never be enough for any of them!”
The words gouged, just as they undoubtedly meant to. “You don’t know anything about him!” she snapped back, gathering her own magic. “You just decided he should be hurt because some sniveling little client came along and waved visions of glory in front of your face!”
Ariadne’s eyes widened, full of shock and betrayal. “I’ve told you about those visions for years! How dare you suggest that little toad had anything to do with it!” Rage flared, along with a faint glow around Ariadne’s hand. “I refuse to let you ruin both our lives just because your useless heart has finally figured out how to overpower your mind. Now go back there and get me the blood I need!”
When Illiana didn’t move, Ariadne lifted her hand as if ready to throw the spell at her. Her own magic flowed around her, ready and waiting, but there was no spell strong enough to get through to her sister.
Powering down her magic, Illiana turned and left the tower.
Back in her room at the castle, Illiana stared at the collection vial sitting on her desk. Her options were painfully limited. More argument would only make Ariadne angrier, maybe even to the point of pushing Illiana away for good. Worse, it would do nothing to save Thomas—Ariadne would simply collect the blood another way.
If Illiana gave in and obtained the blood herself, she would at least get to keep her sister. This was her first real attempt at defiance, and Ariadne would probably prefer to forget it had ever happened. As long as it ended quickly, all would eventually be forgiven.
If she told Thomas what was happening, she would lose them both. But it was the only way he wouldn’t be left helpless and in his enemy’s hands for a century. Could she live with herself, knowing she’d let a wonderful man be sacrificed?
Could she slam the door on her sister, the only person who’d ever made room for her?
She was spared from answering either question by a quiet knock on the door. Wiping her eyes, Illiana hurriedly dragged her composure back into place. “Come in.”
To her surprise, it was Thomas who opened the door. When he saw her, the worry on his face sharpened. “Are you all right?” When she stood, he moved towards her. “I saw you return this afternoon, but you barely spoke to anyone.” He took her hands in his. “I know that look on your face. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Her normal reserve was helpless against him. “I’m just tired,” she tried, voice already unsteady as she pulled her hands away from his. A second later, she already missed their warmth. “Perhaps I’m coming down with something. You should probably stay away from me the next few days. I wouldn’t want you to catch it as well.” By then, she would have thought of a way to tell him. It would break her heart, but to not do so would be so much worse.
How had she ever thought she had options?
The silence that followed was too loud. Finally, Thomas broke it. “What were you supposed to do to me?”
Stunned, she whipped around to face him. He was standing where she’d left him, expression solemn and careful as he dismantled everything she’d thought she’d known. “I presume that whatever it was should have happened by now, and your employer dragged you back to express his or her displeasure.” The corners of his mouth curved upward a fraction. “And the first thing you do when you return is to tell me to stay away from you for a little while. I may be wrong, but it sounds very much like you’re trying to protect me.”
Illiana’s knees threatened to give out. She sat down hard on the bed, staring at him with wide eyes. “You knew I wasn’t a witch.”
“There’s a subtle difference in the way witches and sorceresses speak about magic. It’s hard to pick up on unless you’ve spent a great deal of time talking to both types of practitioners.” He sounded almost apologetic. “Clearly, you’re intelligent enough that you could qualify as a scholar without lying, so I knew it wasn’t merely to get into the library. I was the most logical target.”
She spread her hands wide, lost for a response. “Then why didn’t you arrest me?”
“On a suspicion?” Thomas shook his head. “You never once hurt me.”
The words cut, but no more deeply than she deserved. He’d simply been waiting for evidence. “Blood.” Illiana’s voice was strained as she stood, reaching for her satchel. “I was supposed to get a sample of your blood to be used in a curse. After I leave, you’ll need to be on the lookout for—”
Thomas intercepted her, catching her hands again. “You misunderstand me,” he said softly, tilting his head to make her meet his eyes. “I could have arrested you. Kings are allowed to indulge in irrational abuses of power.”
She tried to pull her hands away again, but he wouldn’t let them go this time. “But you didn’t, because you wanted to see what I’d do.”
“No.” Thomas’s voice was soft. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
Illiana’s eyes filled, holding onto his hands as tightly as she could. “I’m not worth holding on to.”
“You’re worth everything.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Stay with me. Please.”
Her response was to throw herself into his arms.