“They’re not native to Tenebris. All my life they were thought to be extinct, but when the egg was found, there was much excitement. A dragon’s body holds magic. The scales and blood can be used in powerful spells. But the elves didn’t dare move the egg. It rested near a river of fire, and it is known dragon eggs must incubate in a hot environment. So the battle became not about the egg but about the forest. The elves wanted it, and the dragon they assumed had laid the egg, for themselves. My people fought to keep the forest neutral.”
“You didn’t want it for your own kingdom?”
“There were times I thought that would be best. How do you protect something if you don’t own it? But my father used to say that no one owned the wild. It owned itself.”
“He seems like a wise man.”
“He was,” I say softly. “Is, I hope, still.” The grandfather clock behind me chimes twice. Pressure builds inside me as I think about my parents, to the point I’m tempted to break into shadow for the relief it would bring. “The truth is that I don’t know if they’re alive. When I was captured, we were at war, and as the king and queen of Stygarde, my parents would have been the first executed if the elves broke through our defenses.”
“You don’t know if they survived the war?” she asks breathlessly. “I’m so sorry.”
This is more than I’d planned to share with her, but I can't deny indulging her curiosity. “The war had waged for years. One night I was fighting side by side with Cassius and Morpheus when the sky tore open and we were dragged through a rift between our worlds.I thought the elves were to blame because the way the night split was similar to how they called the light to kill us. I found myself surrounded by sunlight, walled off from the darkness and unable to escape. I landed in the center of a symbol, trapped by a coven who I would later learn were Gowdie witches. Cassius and Morpheus landed by my side. I slayed the one who smelled the most powerful, Jane Gowdie, and then used my shadows to fight the other witches so Cassius and Morpheus could escape. But in doing so, I drank Jane’s blood. Blood exchange between supernaturals is dangerous. In this case, Jane’s blood gave the Gowdie’s power over me. My friends escaped, but working as one, the Gowdies captured and bled me. They used my blood, rich with Jane’s magic, to create the candle that binds me to their coven.”
Silence unravels between us, punctuated by the ticking of the clock in the corner. “Why did the Gowdies call you in the first place?" she asks softly. "How did they even know how to open a rift to your world?”
“The why was clear immediately. It was the time of the European witch trials and they needed a protector. Their family survived because of me. Anyone who challenged them, they’d order me to kill. How they knew about my world and how they drew me here —that is not as clear. I have searched far and wide over the centuries for a way to reopen that rift, and it remains a mystery to me.”
“You want to go home.”
I stare into my glass. “Yes.” Only after a long, fortifying sip of wine do I look at her again. “Do you know what the Gowdie specialty is? Every witch family has a type of magic they are known for, and the Gowdies are unsurpassed in one particular skill.”
She shakes her head.
“Animators. They draw their power from the earthelement. The Gowdies can animate anything, including the dead. That’s how they caught me to do the binding spell. They animated my bones, kept me from using my powers while they collected my blood for the candle.” I rub a hand over my sternum at the ache the memory conjures.
“So, you’ve been bound to serve the Gowdies for centuries.” She hugs the pillow tighter.
“Three hundred eighty years, nine months, and eight days.”
“Fuck.No one deserves to be imprisoned for that long, even if initially the Gowdies considered it a punishment for killing Jane.”
I give a low chuckle. “I agree, little bird.”
“Wait, didn’t you say that the Gowdies have commanded you to kill for them over the years?”
Darkness forms within me, a cold bitterness I struggle to keep hold of. “Yes. Thousands.”
“Then most of the people you’ve killed were in service to a witch who was pulling your strings. You didn’t ask to be brought here. You’re not a monster. You were defending yourself.” She says it with such conviction that the knot in my chest loosens just a bit.
“If only the Gowdies saw it that way.”
“But the candle is barely a stub. It won’t be long now before it burns down and you’re free, right?”
I scoff. “The Gowdies will never let it burn out. They’ll make sure I’m bound for eternity.”
“Why would they do that?”
“As long as it exists, I can’t hurt them, I can’t return home, and I am not free to truly join a coven of vampires or other supernaturals. I am their ultimate weapon.”
I pour myself another glass of wine. I wishalcohol had the same effect on shades as it does on humans. Still, the mild effects are something tonight.
“You and I are so similar.”
Intrigued, I narrow my eyes on her. “How so?”
“People like Tony and Jane Gowdie are bullies. They pull us into their orbit, use us, and then hang us out to dry. Maeve, she probably doesn’t know the whole story. She inherited the candle. But this…servitudehas gone on long enough.”
“We’ll free you from Tony,” I promise.
