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Silver
Annihilate. Teeth and claws. Tear flesh. Blood. Death. Those five phrases repeated inside Silver’s head. They were the phrases her sister, Afton—the queen of Ketill—had told her for as long as she could remember. It was for the safety of their home—their kingdom.
A man wriggled in Afton’s grasp. He hadn’t spoken a word since arriving—none of the three guards sent by the King of Enare had. When the other two guards, who now lay dead on the marble floor, attempted to chain Afton’s wrists, they’d wound up shredded to pieces by Silver and her sister.
Running her tongue across her teeth, Silver wiped them clean of blood as best she could. The two sharp rows of teeth had already retracted into her gums, leaving only her permanent ones in their wake. But the earth’s magic still coursed through her, aching to unleash again.
“King Thorin’s betrothment letter said it was up to me,” Afton growled near the man’s ear, her pitch-black eyes boring into him, her long white-blonde hair swinging forward. “Then you so graciously, or should I say ungraciously, changed your mind when I said I would take my time to think about it.”
His hand shoved at Afton’s chest as he attempted to slip out of her grasp.
Not one to easily give up, Silver thought.
“Wrong answer.” Afton thrust her head forward with a snarl, her razor-sharp teeth ripping the man’s throat open, slicing through his neck and spine until his head thumped to the stone floor. Thick crimson pooled out from both open wounds.
Another head to add to the collection of traitorous skulls in the tunnel below the castle. All he had to do was wait and let Afton decide on an answer to the king’s proposal. Silver’s sister didn’t murder for the sake of murder, but in times like these, it was necessary.
From an early age, Silver had learned several things—Afton would always choose for herself, and she would not let anyone ever control her. Those were just a couple of the reasons why Silver loved her sister.
When Afton was ten years old, she ended their cruel parents' lives, making her queen—the youngest ruler in Ketill's history. Silver had never once yearned to be queen—she’d only ever wanted to help her sister continue her legacy.
A stir and a stomp of boots thump-thumped from behind her. Silver whirled around, ready to attack again if she must.
Javan, Afton’s guard, rounded the corner, carrying his cane in one hand, his lips pursed. “Looks like you two have made quite the mess, haven’t you?” He pinched the bridge of his nose as his gaze swept across the crimson-smeared floor and walls.
Afton wiped her bloody palms against the skirts of her viridescent dress and picked up her mace. “So we did. You should have been guarding.”
“You allowed them access without me knowing. I just found out from an outside guard.” He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “This isn’t going to bode well with Enare. You know very well things have been falling apart over there for years.”
“It seemed to bode well for me,” Afton spat.
This is true...
“King Thorin is going to react,” Javan snapped back.
“You’re not my father.”
“I’m not your friend either. I’m your guard.”
Afton glared, her eyes full of icy daggers.
Javan took a step forward, arms folded over his chest, his hazel gaze resting on Afton. “Silver wouldn’t have done this if you hadn’t influenced her.”
“We all know Silver is your favorite and you would love to see her on the throne.” Afton’s scowl deepened.
He gave an exhausted sigh. “I’ve never once said that about Silver, have I?”
Javan always thought of Silver as the gentle one, the proper one, the one who cared for everyone. That might be true, but sometimes blood was required over picking and gifting a bouquet of flowers. Sometimes the bouquet needed to be drenched in blood.
“You know I’m right here, also standing in the room,” Silver said to break up some of the tension.
Both hard stares turned on her.
“Or not.” Silver held her hands up, taking a step back. “I can be a ghost if you wish. But Afton made the correct decision—the guards were planning on taking her against her will.” She pressed a hand to her chest, where her scar was visible just below her neck. As a young child, she’d been burned by her sister. It wasn’t Afton’s fault—it was their parents’. Afton always said their parents lay dead in the darkest pit of Torlarah. Silver hoped it was true and prayed they were suffering.
“Mm-hmm. I’m still sure there was a better solution,” Javan grumbled.
“Get this mess cleaned up. I expect to have their hearts fully cooked for dinner.” Afton rolled her eyes at Javan and sauntered out of the room.
A solution... That was what they needed. Javan’s age was beginning to show at times, and although he was still strong when necessary, he was using his cane more often. Afton wouldn’t replace him while he was still breathing, but she needed to have a guard prepared for when the time was right. Someone trustworthy. Silver stared at the dead bodies and closed her eyes, trying desperately to think of a plan. If she could keep her friend's soul in human form in this world, then she would have a permanent solution. King Thorin would send more guards when his didn’t return, and Afton would need someone besides Javan. To make her friend—Keelen—whole, Silver would need to dig deeper into the dark magic of the earth to conjure him to stay. Even then, she didn’t know if it would truly work after her numerous failed attempts over the years when he'd been a raven.
Silver stepped out of the room into the soft lighting reflecting off the walls. Lifting her skirts, she rushed after her sister, across the plush carpeted hallway. She pushed her black hair behind her shoulders, letting it fall to her waist. It only took a moment before she found Afton walking farther down the hall. She picked up her pace and skirted around her sister before stopping in front of her.
Speckles of crimson coated the bodice and skirt of Afton’s gown. “I think I may have a solution for King Thorin and his control of Enare.” Silver’s chest heaved and she peered down, catching sight of her own thin dress smeared in blood.
Afton arched an obsidian brow, contrasting drastically with her light hair. “The foolish guards he sent are dead. Now, excuse me.”
She grabbed Afton’s wrist, and her sister gently removed Silver’s fingers.
“I need to use the wax,” Silver hurried on. “After you bathe, I want to show you something.”
“Silver!” Afton stared at the ceiling before resting her dark eyes back on her. They mirrored Silver’s black irises with a white pupil in the center—eyes that no other in their kingdom had ever been blessed with, ones that couldn’t even be altered by magic. “You don’t have to ask me to use the wax, but I’m tired. We can discuss this betrothal issue later. If those guards had been patient, they would have learned my answer was yes. I’ve grown tired of receiving these letters from Thorin the past four months. But my plan hasn’t changed—I’ll still destroy the king. Ketill will never be united with Enare under him. From ‘our betrothal,’ Enare would be ours once he’s dead.”
Afton brushed by her, sauntering past the sculpted statues without true faces, their cerulean bodies standing in different elegant dancing poses. Silver didn’t go after her. She smiled to herself—her sister would see.
Silver clenched her filthy skirts, not bothering to change dresses since the fabric would only get messy again anyway.
She hurried to the end of the hall and opened the door to Afton’s study. In the large space sat a desk, completely organized, with a stack of papers and an inkwell and quill resting atop the wood. Shelves of books hugged the walls, some with decaying split spines or fraying edges, others appearing as if they’d never been opened.
A massive cauldron hung in the center of the room from a metal chain, the peach wax kept bubbling by an invisible flame. The power came from the land. Afton and Silver didn’t need the cauldron to use the magic, but with the wax brewing and alive, it was like an amplifier—making them stronger within the castle walls and more prepared for enemies. The liquid stayed churning due to the remedies she and Afton would retrieve from herbal sellers. Despite the cauldron always bubbling, no matter what she did, Keelen could never stay for long.
A thought struck her—Afton had wanted the hearts for dinner. Damn it. While trying to hurry, she’d forgotten to return to Javan before coming to the study. Lifting her skirts, she ran down the hallway to the meeting room where the bodies still lay.
Silver sighed in relief, her hand at her chest. “Thank the spirits.”
It shouldn’t matter which heart she used, so Silver grabbed the broad shoulders of a shorter guard who weighed the least. Silver pulled him halfway out of the room when Javan rounded the corner, this time leaning on his cane as he walked. In his other palm rested several sharp tools for him to dig out the hearts for the cook to prepare.
He stopped, a single eyebrow arched in suspicion. “What are you trying to do?”
“I need to borrow this guard for a bit. Can you help me?” She smiled wide, pleading. “And in return, I’ll make things easier for you.” She moved to one of the other bodies, magic swirling inside her. Flexing her fingers and extending her claws, Silver dove her hands into the man’s stomach with a sickening squish, then up and under his rib cage. Cradling the warm organ in her palm, she casually pulled it out and repeated her motions on the second body. She held out both wet hearts, revealing the bloody muscle, to Javan. Drip. Drip.
“You girls can do all that but can’t manage to lift a body with magic?” Javan asked, incredulous.
“Perhaps one day I’ll be able to.” She placed the hearts on the table and walked back to the body she’d been dragging. “All right, help me bring this one to the study.”
Javan slowly ran a hand across his jaw but nodded and set down his cane. He grabbed the dead guard by his limp legs.
They exchanged no words as they passed the portraits on the wall and the statues decorating the hallway. She struggled with the guard’s bulky shoulders, hefting them higher.
Once through the already-open door, they carried the body inside and laid it down beside the cauldron.
Javan stood there, unmoving, his brow furrowing.
“That will be all for now.” Silver shooed him out with both hands so she could concentrate.
“You do know not to eat raw hearts and other organs, correct?”
“Trust me, you’ll love the outcome of this.” She grinned, knowing it might take some of the work load off of Javan. “But I need to focus alone.”
“Uh-huh.” He still didn’t budge.
“I’ve got it. Just go.”
Javan gripped the bridge of his nose and exited the study, closing the door gently behind him.
Finally, alone.
Silver tapped her chin and scanned the room—the three chairs, the desk, the bookcases, the floor, the body. She swiped the few things from the desk to the floor, then realized the top wouldn’t be long enough. Damn. Hurriedly, she restacked the papers on the desk in a way that wouldn’t be noticeable to Afton.
Taking one of the large ladles from the chain of the cauldron, Silver stirred the peach-colored wax in a clockwise circle.
At the age of eight, Silver had used her magic to shape a raven out of wax after Afton killed their parents. She then brought the raven to life, but it was no ordinary bird. She'd placed a soul of a young human boy within the raven—Keelen, the name she’d given him since he’d been unable to recall his—yet she could never figure out a way to make the wax hold its shape for long. No matter how many times she created a new raven, him staying remained temporary.
No one had ever known about Keelen besides her—even Afton. He was her secret, and now he wouldn’t be any more if she could make him a permanent weapon. Sometimes, when she tried to bring him to life, the wax refused to listen. Sometimes it was for days, sometimes weeks, but this time it had been months.
Silver’s heart pounded beneath her rib cage while she thought that the wax may not listen to her once more. Or perhaps Keelen didn’t want to come back—perhaps he was tired of being reshaped into a raven and falling to pieces.
Each time she located Keelen within Torlarah—the afterlife—he could never remember his full story when she carried his soul out, only his age. He had been ten when she was eight. Although he was dead, he aged as she did, and she couldn’t explain how it was possible. But it was.
Silver blew out a breath. She was twenty now, stronger, and could dig deeper into the dark magic. With the right necessities, and her power at its full potential, this would be the time for him to stay.
Or so she hoped.
“All right, hands and mind, let’s do this.” Using a ladle, she spread the boiling wax onto the floor and drew up a wind to cool the liquid into clumps. A glittering iridescent smoke curled around the wax, turning it more malleable. Her hands absorbed the warmth of the wax as she smoothed its texture, the wax’s herbal scent filling the room.
With precision, she pressed her fingertips to the smooth texture and dug her digits in. She shaped, folded, weaved, and formed it as best she could. Silver didn’t know what he should look like—he’d only ever been a raven before—so she entrusted the magic to cooperate with her in making him complete.
A soft clink sounded from outside the door and Silver stood, brushing her hands down the front of her dress before opening it.
Resting on the carpet, she spotted a silver dagger—ornate jewels and engravings decorated the handle—waiting for her. Javan was being generous, even though she didn’t mind using her hands.
After shutting the door, Silver went and knelt beside the guard’s dead body. She carefully used the sharp tip of her new gift to pluck out each of the violet eyes so Keelen would be able to see. Then she cut out the tongue for him to taste, and a heart for him to live. Organ after organ came next, and she wondered if she should have used all three bodies to find the strongest variety, but these appeared plentiful enough. She tucked each one inside the wax and covered them with thick layers—even the eyeballs were hidden.
Silver had missed Keelen, but she was also tired of seeing him die over and over because her magic wasn’t strong enough to keep him whole. She’d been selfish, bringing him back time and time again. And down, hidden beneath the bloody muscular layers of her heart, was something—an emotion that could only also be considered selfish on her part.
Because, she loved him...
Why was she thinking about her heart when she needed to focus on his? Silver broke through several dark barriers, tugging at threads, all while feeling as though she was falling. Her breaths increased as she searched for Torlarah’s fog. Farther. Farther. Before her, something thick and white drifted toward her. There it was. She went deeper. A faint heartbeat pulsed in front of her, then she could sense his familiar essence. She latched onto him and pulled, darkness rousing around her, within her, struggling to tear itself away. But she yanked harder, drawing the shimmering pearl up and out of Torlarah before placing the soul inside the wax.
Silver pressed her palms to the now-hardened chest, one hand right over the other. Closing her eyes, she shallowly pumped the area and whispered the word that would bring him to life. “Awake.”
She opened her eyes. Smooth tan skin coated the wax body, silken to perfection. “It worked,” she breathed.
Bones would be beneath the new layer, as would muscle and nerves. She’d never seen him with skin—he’d always had the waxy sheen while a raven. The guard’s organs, along with the dark magic, changed that. His new flesh was without hair for the time being, but it would grow as blood now pumped through his veins.
Silver’s heart caught in her throat as she continued to stare at him. He was beautiful. She hadn’t known how he would look, but it wouldn’t have mattered as long as he was there.
She waited and waited, the ends of her fingers tapping together. “Perhaps it didn’t work.”
Then his chest rose and fell, and his eyelids slowly opened to bright violet irises, like lavender under warm sunlight.
His head slowly turned toward her, his neck popping, and his body appearing stiff.
“Hi, Keelen.” Silver grinned.
He didn’t smile in return, his voice seemingly trapped in his throat.
Silver’s brows lowered as she studied his face, his expression. He’d never looked like a man before, and she couldn’t remove her gaze from him. Her heart beat harder while she continued to stare at his features—his strong jaw, his high cheekbones, his bright eyes.
“Hi,” she repeated, breathless. Perhaps he didn’t understand her. It was possible she’d made it so he didn’t speak her language this time, though that had never happened before.
“Hello,” he finally said, voice deep, cradling his lower lip between his teeth. So human-like. “Do I ... do I know you?”
Her anxious beating heart plummeted as though sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried beneath the grains, too deep to find.
“You don’t remember me?” Tears pricked her eyes, but she bit the inside of her cheek to pull herself together. “I’m Silver. You always remember me. I brought you here from the afterlife—Torlarah. Keelen is the name I gave you before.”
Squinting his eyes, surveying her, he shook his head. “No, I think I would’ve remembered the color of your irises, the whites in the middle of them.”
Maybe this was for the best—she wouldn’t have to be attached to their friendship, her feelings for him, if he didn’t remember her... “I’ve known you for a while. You were always a raven before, but now you’re like me.”
He shakily held up his hand and inspected his fingers. “One, two, three, four, five.” His chin lifted, and his expression was questioning. “How?”
“I gave you a man’s heart using a bit of magic.” She didn’t tell him how dark the power was and that there had been a chance he wouldn’t have come to life at all.
Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Silver wanted to press her palms to his new skin, run her fingers up the length of him. She reined in that temptation and held out her hands to him. He stared at them for a moment before placing his on top of hers. Smooth, not a single callus.
Keelen stumbled a bit as she brought him to standing, then maneuvered him to one of the plush chairs across from the writing desk.
Inside the closet, Silver found a stack of blankets and grabbed a wool one. She padded to the chair and wrapped the blanket around his naked form. It was hard for her not to peer down, even though she’d touched every inch of his body, but that was before it had become flesh—real. And she already knew the length between his thighs would please any woman, though she hadn’t planned on creating it so perfectly.
He slumped back in the chair and spread his legs apart to where she caught a glimpse of his manhood. Quit reminding me. She flicked her gaze away and hurried to adjust the blanket better as he rested his head against the blue velvet. He breathed deeply, not saying a single word. She stood in front of him, blinking rapidly, waiting to discuss something.
Keelen released a low chuckle, his gaze softening when his eyes met hers. “I still can’t remember much, only dying as a raven ... numerous times. Yet I don’t specifically remember you, or this place, or an afterlife either.”
“That’s because you weren’t formed correctly before. I wasn’t strong enough, and I should have used human organs.” She paused and thought of Keelen when he’d been there last. “Do you remember flying in the garden at all? When you were a raven?”
“No, Silver.” He shook his head and pulled the blanket tighter at his chest. “I can’t remember.”
“Oh.” At least he was saying her name. She liked the way it formed and sounded coming out of his new mouth.
“Only the pain. The dying.”
Silver’s heart dropped to her stomach, and she scooted closer to him. “With every fiber in me, I won’t let you die. Not unless you choose it, but I have something I need you to do. I placed organs inside you and used a specific magic that should hopefully keep hold. You will age, you will live, and yes, eventually, you will die. I know I didn’t give you a choice in what you look like. So, I will give you this opportunity...” She hadn’t expected him to feel this way. Keelen had never remembered his past life, but he did always remember being with her, then the dying. He’d said it felt like flames were licking off layer after layer of flesh, yet to see her again was always worth it.
“I don’t care what I look like. I don’t care if I’m a raven, a man, or something else.” His jaw tightened, but he wasn’t focused on her. “If I do die again, I don’t want you to bring me back.”
Silver blinked—the old Keelen would have disagreed. She leaned forward and placed her warm hands in his, letting his cool fingertips absorb her warmth. “I won’t bring you back.” It was a lie.
The door cracked open, the sound reverberating off the walls. Silver whirled around and straightened.
Javan stopped in his tracks as his gaze settled on her. “What is this? I heard voices.”
“Leave!” she shouted. He wasn’t supposed to come in just yet.
His hazel eyes shifted to Keelen, then to the wax, and finally to the torn-open body. “You’ve been using dark magic?” he rasped, his hand covering his mouth.
“It isn’t dark if I’m only giving life.” She didn’t understand how that could be considered wrong.
“It’s forbidden.” He knelt and ran his fingertip across the leftover wax on the floor. “You know this.”
“Afton will allow what I’ve done when she sees the usefulness of it.”
“How long, Silver?” he seethed. “How long have you been doing things like this? How are you going to explain this to your sister?”
“Um, a good while?” She winced.
“Damn it. You saw what the magic did to your parents!” Javan cradled his face and dug his fingertips into the skin.
“They were like that even when they didn’t dabble with the darkness,” she forced out. “Trust me, he’s good. He’s going to be Afton’s new guard, and she will need him for Enare. You won’t be able to look after her forever.”
Javan’s head whipped up and his spine lengthened. “What is she planning, Silver?”
“She’s going to marry Thorin as per his request.” Silver didn’t know the full story of what was to come, and Afton would have to be the one to explain the rest to him.
“Something isn’t right here.” Javan lightly bounced his fist against his mouth. “Afton wouldn’t be so easily swayed.”
“Will you help me remove the corpse? I’ll go and talk to her.” Silver peered down at herself, finally taking notice that she was drenched in even more scarlet.
“I’ve got it—I’ll get everything cleaned up here.” Javan batted her away. “Just go take your guest to one of the vacant rooms while I figure things out in the weapons area.”
“I don’t think you can.” Silver inspected his cane on the floor.
“Silver, I have a limp. I’m not missing appendages. Now go,” he grunted.
Not wanting to continue arguing, she helped Keelen to his feet and closed the door behind them. She glanced up, taking stock that Keelen was about a head taller than her.
His eyes locked onto hers. “So you have things you want me to do...”
“Yes, but you need to rest for now.”
As they walked down the hall and turned down another, he wasn’t stumbling anymore. Silver let go of his waist as he followed her with long strides to one of the guest rooms. She opened the door to a space that held a jewel-embedded wooden wardrobe, resting across from a bed. Tall ivory posts, encrusted with triangular-shaped obsidian, were at each corner of the mattress.
“Are you hungry?” she asked as Keelen sat on the bed. He inspected the ornate stitching of the blanket while she pulled him out a tunic and pants from the wardrobe. “I bet you’re starving. Even I’m starving after the day I’ve had.”
“Famished.”
Silver tossed him the clothing. “Get dressed and don’t go anywhere.” She didn’t wait for a response as she headed out of the room and down to the kitchens to gather something to fill their bellies.
Steaming chicken and an assortment of wonderful smells filled her nose when she entered the kitchens. Silver approached the counters, where Ragan stood squeezing lemon juice onto roasted meat. She collected pastries, fruit, bread, and slices of chicken, placing them on a plate. Ragan’s deep mahogany eyes watched her while one chestnut-colored eyebrow rose, seeming to take notice of the blood on her. He was used to seeing her drenched in crimson, usually after she went out hunting in the woods with Afton. It had been three months since he’d started working at the palace, and Silver had sparked a friendship with him almost immediately.
“You’re going to eat all that by yourself?” He smirked and swiped a lock of brown hair off his forehead.
“Maybe.” She laughed before turning to go back to the guest room. Ragan was Afton’s sole lover since his arrival, which had taken Silver by surprise since her sister had never opened her heart to any other man. Afton had always let them know beforehand that, besides a tumble, there would be nothing more. With Ragan, that changed.
Silver ascended the long staircase and returned to Keelen’s room. He was fully dressed and staring at the candles. His legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles as he rested against the headboard.
She handed him the plate of food while stuffing her mouth with a jellied pastry. As he bit into a plump strawberry, she remembered how, before, he preferred to snap up spiders with his beak.
Once he finished devouring his meal, his eyes started to flutter.
“Try resting for a bit.” Silver helped him under the blankets and pulled them all the way up to his chin, then tucked it around his body. “How do you feel?”
“As though I can’t move,” Keelen drawled.
“Sorry about that.” Silver laughed. Perhaps she did overdo it. She loosened the blankets and rolled them down to his chest. “I have something I want to ask of you.” Her hands fidgeted as she waited for him to answer.
“What is it?” He eyed her warily.
“I know you heard me mention to Javan about you becoming my sister’s guard. Afton needs a new one soon, and I was wondering if you would do it. She would refuse anyone else, but I know I can get her to listen to me about you. I trust you, even if you can’t remember me. Besides, you always had knowledge about weapons in the past—that has to mean something.”
“I’m not sure I can lift a weapon at the moment.” He paused. “But I’ll see.”
Silver took that as a yes and relaxed.
“This doesn’t belong to me.” His hand was at his chest, over his heart, his long fingers seeming to thrum in sync with the organ’s beat.
“Just because it wasn’t yours before doesn’t mean it isn’t now.” She shrugged, taking a deep swallow and forcing herself to smile. Did he hate her? Because all she could think right then, while holding his gaze, was how much she loved him. “Rest and let your body learn itself while you sleep. Goodnight.”
He didn’t say it back. He always said it back.
Silver’s shoulders slumped and she fought back tears as she left the room. An ache formed in her chest—she was truly a stranger to him now.
