The pressure on the corners of his mind increased, demanding he block it all out like he normally did. How else was he supposed to survive? No one could be responsible for such atrocities and actually function like a normal human. He’d recognized the shift in himself over the last decade. He used to laugh and joke more readily than most. Now he found himself ready to swing a fist at the slightest provocation. Hiding it was a full-time job—not to mention the fact that he was just as guilty as any of them.
It was his own fault that Elysia didn’t trust him. The thought of allowing someone in far enough to see how fucked up he really was inside—it was unbearable. And beyond that, he was obsessed. Obsessed with righting these wrongs. With finally figuring out how and why magic had left Kava.
“Do you really think he will be able to continue your good work? He acts as though it’s beneath him rather than the most important work he will ever complete.”
Topp peered through the crack in between the cabinet doors.
The king popped the crystal stopper out of his favorite decanter. While everyone else in Kava drank cheap gin, he kept a steady supply of imported whiskey for himself. He held the intricate bottle for a moment before pouring out two tumblers and handing one off to his advisor.
His father’s eyes sat heavy on his advisor, clearly not appreciating the open critique of his heir. “Topp may push to see how far he can wander, but at the end of the day, beyond whatever fanciful notions he may hold, he knows exactly what I am willing to do to maintain what we have created in Kava.”
The king took a small, burning sip of whiskey and stared straight through to where Topp hid behind thin wooden doors. “Rooting out magic, killing it at the source. I have foot soldiers for such brutality. I don’t need my heir out there, hands bloody. I need him right here.” The king made a fist, squeezing his hand tight. “My son knows what his end will be if he can’t fulfill what is demanded of a Blatz.”
The king set his whiskey down, now staring blatantly at the cabinet. Terrin glanced over his shoulder nervously before his eyes darted back to his king.
“No one knows this story, Terrin, but I think it's time I tell someone.”
The king took a seat behind his desk while Terrin stood there sweating, looking torn between the intelligent response of anxiety and the fact that the king sharing his secrets was all the man had ever dreamed of for years.
“I made a promise after my wife died—that no one would ever die from the inhuman curse of magic ever again.” The king’s voice shifted from the benevolent caring ruler to one of iron and blood. “I did what was necessary to free our people from the affliction of magic and false gods, and it is my most sacred duty to maintain this freedom.”
Taking a small drink, he continued. “My father was a hard man, an angry man. He had an affinity for air magic, and he liked to use that magic against my mother. Inevitably, there came a day where he went too far.” The king’s jaw worked and he crossed his arms. “Without my mother around, I became his target. As you can imagine, I am intimately familiar with the dangers of magic, but it wasn’t until it killed my wife that I did something about it.”
Terrin stuttered. “I thought, I thought that was a riding accident, Your Grace.”
The king nodded, looking out the window into the gray before switching on the lights behind him. Warm-toned bulbs fixed to the wall behind his desk like modern sconces came to life, reviving the office from Relaclave’s natural gloom.
“We’d argued that day. She thought I was losing perspective regarding magic. Went for a ride to clear her head, and some fool’s fire magic spooked the horse.”
Inside the cabinet, Topp froze, hanging onto every word. He knew he’d been caught, but there was nothing he could do except listen. His father was finally revealing what he had been afraid of all along. The monster was not outside of him. It had raised him and ran through his blood.
His eyes latched onto Terrin. The advisor was going to wish he had never entered this room. If there was one thing dating Elysia Parker had taught Topp, it was that all secrets came at a price—some much steeper than others.
The story wasn’t finished though.
“My daughter knew how her mother died, and yet even after all I did to secure a safe, magicless future for our people, she carried on flaunting her curse like she was above the law of this land. She could have ruined everything. I had to stop her—for the good of the Crown. Topp has never caused such problems. He burns with questions, but he’s obedient. He knows his place is supporting the Crown.” The king’s gaze drilled into the cabinet. “Or maybe he just knows that if he wants the Parker girl to stay alive, then he’ll do as he’s damn well told. Besides, there’s nothing he could do to bring magic back, anyway. I saw to that.”
Topp’s chest heaved. His father was right—he had burned. Burned for years as he questioned the deaths of his mother, his sister, and how magic left this land. Burned as he questioned if it was he who was insane or everyone else who saw a saint and hero when they looked at his father. Burned as he tried againand again to find answers to questions that no one but his own flesh and blood could resolve.
He wanted to bellow so loudly it would shake the castle’s very foundation. Wanted to free the magic that pushed against his skin, hot and electric.
The air within the cabinet began to tremble and even shimmer as light danced along its current. He tried to disconnect from it all. The pain, the anger. The part of him that screamed for vengeance against his own blood. But it was no use. His magic knew two very simple things. His father had killed his sister. And Kava’s king needed to die.
The cabinet exploded as Topp’s magic surged out, searching for its target. Bits and shards of wood flew everywhere with dust falling in a cloud. But Topp was right behind his magic. Launching himself across the room without a thought other than the target that filled his sight.
And then everything stopped.
It was as if his magic had been ripped from the room. Like his power had been cut off at the knees. All the oxygen had disappeared, and he had no fire to burn.
He fell helpless to the floor, his body making the softest of thuds against his father’s richly woven rug.
Sweat ran along Topp’s brow, his body contorting into an unnatural shape. Head lolling, he stared brazenly into his father’s eyes and found them cold. His words were choked. “What… What are you doing?”
His father’s fist was closed and his voice strangely even. “I am doing exactly as I said. I am keeping you. Right. Here.”
He squeezed his fist and Topp felt the last of his magic deflate as if it never existed. Even though he’d only lived with its remnants, his body felt stripped to its bones and powerless. All his muscles flexed and tensed, fighting against this invasion. Whatever his father was doing was unnatural, and his bodywas unlikely to remain conscious much longer if he didn’t stop. Heartbeat erratic and vision faltering, his breath turned shallow.
He laughed openly, coming out from behind his desk. “Did you really think I didn’t know? That I’d spend my whole life hunting your kind and wouldn’t see it in my own son? You’ve hidden it well enough all these years and that’s what you will continue to do.”
