In ways he hadn’t thought possible, he appreciated the existence of Hazel the woman, not just Hazel the ward. She was the first person he’d connected with in a very long time. Revealing what he knew would destroy everything he’d been working toward.
“Yes, your face says enough.” He smiled again, gulping down more wine. “Well since we’re all here right now and we’re already spilling each other’s secrets, let’s keep this little game going, shall we? Slaide has revealed a secret project of mine, and I am fairly certain we all knowyourlittle secret.” He pointed a finger at Hazel. “So that just leaves Slaide’s hidden past. Do you want to tell her or should I? No, never mind. It’s only fair that I do the honors.
“As you already know, Slaide has been my loyal dog for quite a long time. His entire life, actually. See, you may not know, but he was born and bred here. Slaide is a product of a little side project I’ve been working on with the Magistry, at the behest of the Anemoi. That’s right. A task appointed to me, High King of Aeos, handed down by the gods themselves. Great, isn’t it? It really is. And they really couldn’t have chosen someone better and more driven to get this done. Anyway, Slaide, you might have guessed, isn’t human. In fact?—”
“I’m well aware he isn’t human, Your Majesty,” Hazel interrupted. “I’m also aware that you cut the wings of your angel slaves so they can never leave the palace walls. Just as I know he only carries out your bidding because he has no other choice.”
Slaide’s eyes nearly popped out of his head hearing her cut the King off mid-sentence. He wanted to laugh and scream at her audacity at the same time. He was oddly… proud of her.
Magnus, however, did not appear amused. “You may want to mind your tongue when speaking to your King, woman, otherwise you will find yourself without one. The decisions a King must make are for the good of all people, even if they can’t recognize it at the time. A time will come when my subjects will turn to me for protection, and I will be able to protect them only because of the actions I am taking now. They may seem cruel, but in time, it will all make sense.
“As I was saying, my dear boy Slaide is, as you know, not human. Instead, he is the bastard son of a Fallenborn angel, and his mother was some unfortunate witch whore. She wasn’t pretty, but she was powerful. We kept her and a few others shackled in our breeding cells at the Citadel, closely monitoring the bitches for signs of pregnancy. We let our Fallenborn have their way with them each and every night. But most of the whelps were born disfigured or stillborn. We were running outof hosts to breed with our Fallenborn warriors. And then this one’s mother was captured.
“She was a particularly nasty wench, killing a score of men before we were able to trap her. As punishment for her behavior, I let all of the beasts have at her at once, instead of making them take turns. Not a shot in Hel of figuring out whohisfather is!” He erupted in raucous laughter, as though he’d told a joke.
Slaide’s fists were clenching at his sides. Magnus settled himself before continuing.
“He had a sister. A twin. They both survived infancy and were the strongest, most superior soldiers I’ve ever seen. But we needed truly superior genetics to continue the breeding program, so we gave them a special serum the Magistry concocted which amplified their skills. Worked them into a frenzy and then pitted them up against each other. It was spectacular. A shame to lose the female’s genetics, but Slaide’s were clearly superior.”
When the King paused, Hazel butted in. “Your Majesty, if I may, why are you telling me this? Why now?”
His grin was pulled straight from the depths of Hel. “Because, my dear. Slaide has been capturing witches and sorceresses from all over Aeos and hand-delivering them to me for participation in my experiments for hisentirelife. The ones that put up a fight are selected for breeding. The ones who don’t… well, they’re disposed of. No reason to keep lackluster genetics in the gene pool. But that’s not Slaide’s big secret, no. You want to know what it is? Come closer,” he beckoned her with his finger.
Hazel obliged him, stepping up to the dais. Slaide could see how much it scared her to do so, to get so close to the realmonster in the room.
Magnus towered over her. Slaide knew his nasty scent by heart, how he reeked of wine and stale bread. And he knew damnwell she could probably see the ugly, unruly hairs sprouting from his nostrils.
“Do you know who the first witch was that Slaide took down? The first one he ever brought to me like the well-trained, well-bred hunting dog he is?” He sneered.
Hazel swallowed hard. Slaide flinched as she shook her head, for he knew what came next.
“Your mother.”
MISSING PIECES
Hazel glanced between Slaide and Magnus, the shock and horror written plainly on her face.Her mother?Other than Agnes, no one bothered to tell her about her real mother. No. It couldn’t be. Yet… the pieces were all falling into place.
And now she was supposed to come to terms with the fact that the one person she had slowly come to trust, the only person who routinely dragged her out of harm’s way, had been the cause of her mother’s death.
Slaide looked at her with eyes full of regret, and in his face, she knew it was true. He didn’t attempt to deny it. Hazel backed up slowly, looking between the two monstrous men. She needed to get away. Needed the safety and sanctity of her rooms. Her locket burned.
“Oh, now now. See what happens when you withhold the truth, Slaide?” Magnus teased. “You deceive people. And then when they find out the truth, it can be devastating. I recommend youdon’tdeceive people. Especially me.”
“Hazel, I can explain. I—” Slaide reached for her.
“What could there possibly be to explain, boy? Directly or indirectly—and I’d personally favor directly—you’re responsiblefor the fate of her mother. A mother who was never there to raise her becauseyougot to her first.” The bastard smiled.
“You’ve said enough, Magnus. I think she gets it,” Slaide snapped.
“Do I need to remind you not to talk to your King in that tone?” His face grew a deep red.
“Hazel, please,” Slaide begged.
But Magnus went on, smiling at the chaos he’d sown. “She whisked you away with her blasted portal magic and then somehow managed to hide you from me all these years. And for what? For you to end up at my gates? Don’t look so surprised. Archmage Gammen was a tremendous help in acquiring a sample—just a strand of hair, don’t worry—for testing in the labs at Stormhold. Imagine my surprise when the results came back. The witch that got away delivered herself back to me.”
Slaide blanched.
Had he known?
