Maeve placed her hands in her lap and sighed quietly.
“You don’t need me. You have your humans and their bombs,” she said with a hint of mocking.
“You’re so arrogant it’s beneath you to utilize their power.” His voice softened, “but it’s not beneath me.”
“What is the end goal? Is it merely power?”
Kietel turned towards her as she spoke once more.
“There was a time I had faith in you. When I prayed, you were the savior. I hoped you would turn out to be so much more.”
He scoffed. “You have the Premeir as your father, and the Dread Descendant at your side, and you hoped I was more?”
Maeve didn’t look at him. “It doesn’t matter. This will all be over soon. I appreciate your confidence in me, truly. But it is not at your side I wish to stand. And now, now that you have kept me and hurt me, Mal will not hear you. Maeve looked at him now and spoke plainly. “You will die as soon as he finds us and breaks the shields protecting this place.” She grabbed the ring around her neck and continued. “It will be the first time Mal has killed for me.”
“He has experience in killing?”
Maeve ignored his comment and continued. “My father won’t even have a chance. Mal will do it. And it will mark the beginning of his ascent as the Dread Prince, the beginning of his journey to freeing us.”
“Freeing you?” Spat Kietel. “Free you from your golden palaces and-“
“You know nothing of-”
“Save your sob story of arranged marriages for one who gives a damn. Tell me, Sinclair, can your slave walk freely away from you? Can she decide she no longer wishes to make your bed and clean your things and serve you forever?”
Maeve’s jaw tensed, astonished. “Don’t you dare call her that.”
“Then what is she if she is not a slave?”
Kietel waited. Maeve had no reply. Guilt dripped down her entire body with a shake.
“You think you’re the victim in this tale, but you are the villain.”
“I could say the same about you,” said Maeve.
“You could.” He nodded. “I’m sure that arrogant bastard Reeve thinks he’s the victim, too. While his Immortals remain untouched and free to live their lives in the open, Never hiding. They were the ones who screwed over the Magicals to begin with, and they still came out on top.”
“What are you talking about?”
Kietel frowned. “Merlin. I said you needed a history lesson. I suppose it’s I who has the honor of delivering it. I had been hoping you didn’t know. Your father’s winged friend is truly whom you should hate.”
Maeve frowned as Kietel continued.
“A century ago in the Shadow War, Reeve’s father, who held the Aterna power then, refused the Magicals entry to his kingdom across the Black Deep. The land, which you now know as the Dread Lands, was once ours. Lavish Forests blooming vegetation and powerful magic to match. The Dread Lands were alive, its own magic present in the daily lives of all who lived there, providing life and nourishment. But as the blight spread, the magic changed, or it died entirely.”
“Yes, I know all that,” said Maeve. “But what do you mean they refused entry to their kingdom?”
“Simply that,” he answered. “Did you think our ancestors’ first choice was to come to Earth? To live in hiding amongst humans and their wars? No. The Immortals-”
“Fought,” interrupted Maeve, “they fought the blight back into the shadows.”
“Only after that darkness had spread completely to the Dark Peaks, to the edge of those mountains, to the tips of our lands and began poisoning the waters that touched Aterna. Only when the blight threatened to take them, too.”
Maeve looked down at the table between them without a word.
“Reeve and the Immortals are not our friends,” said Kietel. “The Magicals are on their own.”
“You may be on your own, but Reeve and my father have a strong alliance,” retorted Maeve.
