“There is no cure,” he says so firmly I wonder what he knows.
He unbuttons the top button of his shirt, adjusting in his seat, giving me a view of his curved collarbone, patterned with tattoos. Two serpents, one white, one dark, intertwine at the bow of it. I wonder what the rest looks like, how mapped out his skin is in ink.
“At least we have to assume there isn’t. They’ve been searching for one since the start of this. No one’s ever found another way to undo it now that Kieran Ceres is dead. Nor locate Kieran Ceres’s alchemist and inventor of his weapons. So we instead offer mortals the chance to enter our kingdoms. Instead of taking tithes, we offer incentives. People will hesitate, but eventually they’ll come. We have forever to wait. The immortals will ultimately realize that seizing people against their will has tobring our downfall. I think I can convince them; it’s the mortals I worry about.”
“I doubt they’ll come with the Wall in place.” The great mammoth of stone is formidable, and people won’t trust it, not in the next lifetime. “What if you destroyed it?”
His head tilts. “The Wall is what keeps magic here. To destroy it would release it across the lands.” He swallows, his jaw ticking. “The reason you and the others were made into changelings is because a mortal body cannot hold magic long. It devours their life force, and without something eternal to feed on … it’s an ugly business. It could eviscerate all of them, razing the lands. And us? We might lose our immortality with it unleashed.”
I shift uncomfortably at the horror of that thought.
“But I’ll need to become king first,” Draven says, his voice firm. “By any means necessary.”
I weigh his words in my mind, knowing full well he likely sees the possibilities of what he’s asking, spinning webs and cutting threads. The politics of the immortals’ kingdoms are complex, but it’s not my first time thrown into a messy court. I just need to know the players to try to manipulate the pieces. But I’m not offering up that kind of assistance without reassurances. My family’s protection first and foremost, and I want to know how far he’ll go to secure his crown, and if it will satisfy the revenge I so desperately crave.
Meeting his unbreaking gaze again, I realize he knows being this up-front with me risks his life, too. He’s trusted me with that much of him. Joining forces might be the worst thing I ever do or my best chance at getting everything I came here for.
“And how do you plan to do all that as king of Sedah?” I shuffle my queen, frustrated by his sudden silence. His gaze shifts,unfocused, as though mulling something. His black bishop slowly takes a pawn off the board.
“Come on. Try me,partner.” I’m exhausted by this cat-and- mouse game.
I use a knight to take one of his pawns, the little figures creating a line along the edges of our board. Tit for tat.
Draven sighs, deflated in the safety of this room. “I never thought I’d meet another World wielder … until you. You changed everything. Together, we could do what I feared was impossible. Arcadia is broken. We could heal it.”
I almost laugh. But for the first time since I’ve known him, he looks vulnerable. I’ve seen him coy, cunning, and charming, but this is something more. How old was he when he was Selected?
His eyes catch the flickering light of the fire as he tells me, “The War might be a distant memory one day, but for immortals it’s fresh. For Altair more than most, and I fear things for mortals are about to become even worse. My father has stood between Altair and all-out war, but without our tentative alliance, Altair may decide to test my father’s resolve. I’m not convinced my father would stop him from grinding mortals to dust, even if he didn’t join him. Then the seraphs will finish the war they started.”
“Because of me,” I finish, my leg bouncing beneath the table.
“Andme,” he adds. “But if you help me get my crown … I can forge a path to peace.”
After a short pause, he continues, “I know you don’t wish to be here, Rune. You wanted to be with your father, and perhaps kill a few of us along the way.” He smiles at my blunt stare. “But perhaps telling the world we’re fated will help your goals of seeing your family again.”
“And how is that?” I ask, arms crossed.
“It grants you protection as my intended. And royal power can stretch beyond borders. We could find your family, negotiate for them. People would be willing to do a lot for someone fated to the future king. They’d see it as a personal favor to me, one they could call in.” His middle and forefinger hover above his black king and queen for emphasis. Seize power. Reunite my family.
“But I have to marry you first?”
“Yes. Two World Arcana would command the respect of the entire Court, and we need them.” His gaze falters, skirting from mine as though we are caught in some dance. His fingers caress a rib, as if he’s tucking his heart back into place. “There’s so much you don’t know, Rune.”
“Oh, well, I wonder why,” I spit sarcastically.
“But I will tell you everything. And as for marriage, once you’ve helped me take the throne, you have my word you can just walk away.”
“You’ll let me?” I narrow my eyes, but from the way he takes me in, I can tell he’s not anything like the Lord of Westfall. There’s strength in his humility, even if he rarely shows it.
“Yes. And I doubt anyone could stop you from doing whatever you wanted once you’ve harnessed the full potential of the World.” He smirks and gestures at the board. “It’s your turn.”
I realize it’s not just him who could win, but me. If I take the chance.
“Our fated status would be to convince the Court, and our marriage political only … if you wish.”
I study him a moment, slouched in that chair, head back, throat exposed and vulnerable.
I believe him. All of it. Maybe it’s stupid, but my instincts are usually right. I square my shoulders and lean over the board, quickly moving a piece closer to his king.
