Queen of Aparia (Obsidian Queen Book 5), page 8
Lillian’s accent gets deeper when she’s excited, and it’s thick right now.
I tuck my feet under the barstool foot rail and lean forward, spending the next hour telling her about our brief visit to Aparia. It feels good to talk about it, to finally open up to someone outside the team.
“So, you’re going back?” she asks.
“I think I should,” I say slowly. “I need to get a better idea of the realm before I start opening thresholds. I have to make sure it’s safe.”
And I must learn more about Louisa. Out of all the threats, she might be the greatest.
Rafe walks into the kitchen forty-five minutes later and snatches a snickerdoodle from the cooling rack.
“Is it time for a change of guard?” I watch with amusement as Lillian pours Rafe a glass of milk to go with his cookie.
Eric comes in behind him, carrying Charles. My cat looks dapper in a bow tie. Judging from the smug look on his feline face, he knows it.
“Any luck with the tricks?” I ask the Bunny.
“We’re getting there.”
“Can’t you just…make him do what you want? Like you did with the Tahoe squirrels?”
“That’s not training—that’s a Lepus form of persuasion.”
“I see.”
I don’t really, but whatever.
Eric accepts several cookies from Lillian, gives her a charming smile that puts Rafe in serious danger of becoming her second favorite, and heads for the door.
“Uh, Eric…” I point to the empty barstool next to me. “My cat?”
“Right.” He holds Charles up to eye level. “See you later, little guy. Be good for your mom, okay?”
Rafe watches him, shaking his head. Charles flicks his tail as soon as Eric sets him down, but he doesn’t bolt out of the kitchen like I expect.
Lillian finishes with the cookies. After she tidies the kitchen and fetches her purse from the living room, she says, “There’s lasagna in the fridge. You can pop it into the oven when you get hungry tonight. I made enough for the team, just in case they all came over.”
“Thanks, Lillian. Have a good night.”
The door closes behind her, leaving Rafe and me alone for the first time since we broke our link.
The air becomes heavy and painfully awkward, and I run a hand through my hair, my gaze wandering over the kitchen as I search for something to say.
Thankfully, I’m saved by my phone vibrating. I look at the screen. “It’s Teagan.”
Rafe watches as I answer it, and then he raises a questioning eyebrow when I only say, “Okay.”
“What did he want?” he asks when I hang up.
“He’s here.” I frown at my phone. “Wallace wants to talk to me.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know.”
I wish Jonathan were here. This doesn’t seem like something I want to do without him, even if he can’t read Wallace for lies. But he’s busy.
The image of him wearing one of his fitted T-shirts and old jeans drifts into my mind. He’s probably all smudged with oil and—
Focus.
Rafe and I answer the door together. The trio of Aparians stands on the step, looking ominous.
Okay, only Dawson looks ominous. He wears a suspicious scowl, like I was the one who initiated this meeting.
“Come on in.” I gesture them inside and lead them to the sitting room. “Sit anywhere you like. Is anyone thirsty? Our housekeeper made fresh lemonade this morning. Or I could brew coffee?”
The men shake their heads and find their places. I sit in Jonathan’s favorite chair, clasping my hands in my lap.
My knight doesn’t sit. Rafe leans against the wall, stony-faced. His cool stare is nothing short of intimidating.
I turn to my cousin, ready to get this over with. “Teagan said you want to speak with me?”
“Your Griffon figured out my sister’s secret,” Wallace responds.
“Secret?” I ask as if stupid, and then I bite the inside of my cheek.
“She’s a Sparrow.”
“Oh…that secret.”
“Social norms dictate we ease into this, but shall I be direct?”
I glance at Rafe, knowing that sort of question isn’t really a question. The knight nods. We might as well hear out the prince.
“Go ahead,” I say cautiously.
“To put it bluntly, you’re a threat,” Wallace begins, entirely too calmly. “You’re stronger than Louisa, and you’ve already surrounded yourself with warriors who support your cause.”
“I have no cause,” I say, looking at Teagan for help. What sort of conflict did he just escort into my house? “I just have a lot of monsters. And I don’t have any desire to dethrone your sister—”
“I want you to.”
I blink at him, mulling over the sentence for several seconds before I ask, “You want me to steal your sister’s crown?”
Wallace leans forward, his eyes locking on mine. “You see, my sister isn’t a Sparrow.”
I shake my head, not following him.
“She was born with potent Obsidian magic, the same as you. Naturally, our people were terrified. How could we survive another Obsidian Queen?” He stands suddenly, as if unable to stay still any longer, and begins to pace the room. “The day she was born, people gathered outside the castle gates, demanding she be executed—a baby. Just because she was an Obsidian.”
It’s a story I know too well. I hold my breath, my timid heart beating too quickly.
“But Father refused to have her put to death, instead making a vow to the people.”
“What kind of vow?”
“If Louisa ever made contact with the midnight creatures, he would allow a Vulture to siphon her magic.”
“How old was she when she used it?” Rafe asks darkly.
“Five.”
I close my eyes, unable to imagine inflicting that horror on such a small child.
“Under my uncle’s orders, her magic was stolen. My parents had already passed away in an accident the previous year.”
“And how old were you?” I ask softly.
“Twelve. I listened to her screams outside the door. They locked it so I couldn’t get in.”
I can feel Rafe’s horror. It’s tangible and quickly followed by anger.
After a moment, I ask, “Why wouldn’t they take it all? Why leave her with such a small amount?”
Oddly, Wallace turns his eyes to Rafe as he answers, “They thought they did.”
“A Griffon could see they didn’t,” my knight argues. “You could see they didn’t.”
Wallace shakes his head. “The amount must have been so minute—so insubstantial. I didn’t realize they missed some until it began to regenerate.”
My heart feels as if it stops beating, and the room goes silent. Slowly, I turn to Teagan. The Vulture sits hunched over on the sofa, elbows on his thighs and his face in his hands.
“Regenerate?” I ask him, my words almost a whisper. “Is such a thing possible?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, and then he drops his hands and sits up. “It’s possible.”
I don’t dare look at Rafe. I can’t.
Instead, I focus on Wallace. “It’s horrible—truly. But I don’t understand what this has to do with me.”
The prince walks toward me, blocking the others from my view. “You’re her flesh and blood, Madeline. Our cousin, though distant.”
“Okay…”
He stops in front of me, his gaze on fire. “I want you to avenge her.”
“By stealing her throne?” I say incredulously.
“Without magic, Louisa is considered too weak to rule—but the crown technically belongs to her, so it cannot revert to me while she’s alive. My uncle has used this to his advantage. He rules as her regent, and he will never give up his position. As long as he has Louisa, he has power. He won’t allow her to marry or have children who could steal his ill-won throne. She’ll never be happy, never more than a political tool.”
“But you said her magic is growing. In a few years, won’t she be able to take the throne herself?”
“The regeneration has been slow. I’ve monitored it for years. At this rate, she’ll be a Sparrow all her life.”
“What about other Griffons?” I say, “Vultures? Surely someone has noticed.”
Wallace shakes his head. “As far as we are aware, I’m the only Griffon in northern Aparia.” He averts his eyes ever so subtly. “And the Vulture who robbed Louisa of her magic died about ten years ago. Until now, I’ve never met another.”
“How did he die?” I ask reluctantly, not sure I really want an answer.
“He met an unfortunate end,” Dawson responds coolly, raising an eyebrow as if daring me to ask him to elaborate.
“Okay then…”
Moving on.
Just for the sake of clarification, I ask Wallace, “So you want me to overthrow your uncle?”
“He’s in league with the Royal Guild,” Teagan interrupts. “After speaking with Wallace, I’m quite certain of it.”
“Come with me into Aparia as we discussed,” Wallace urges. “Let me take you to one of the thresholds—let me show you how lucrative these gates can be when they are few. My uncle and your Royal Guild are taking advantage of them. I guarantee it.”
Oh good. More corruption in the guild. But considering Finn’s family is involved, I can’t say I’m surprised.
I study Wallace for several heartbeats before I finally nod. “All right.”
His expression eases.
“I’ll go see your threshold, but I’m not making any more promises,” I warn him. “I honestly expected Aparia to be in ruins after the war. I certainly didn’t open the threshold with plans to reform a monarchy.”
“What did happen after the gates were closed?” Rafe asks.
Wallace sighs, returning to his seat on the couch. “As you know, Carine wasn’t able to reopen the thresholds—she couldn’t see the magic. Edmund decided the next course of action would be to invade Cavaron, the easternmost kingdom in the Allied Kingdoms of Western Reyan, and take command of one of their gates. But Teagan and Gabriel were several steps ahead of her.”
“Gabriel,” I interrupt. “Is that Jonathan’s ancestor?
“That’s right. He was a Griffon, like Jonathan. They’d sent word to the other guilds in the human realm, requesting the thresholds be destroyed as well.”
“Anywhere we couldn’t travel to quickly,” Teagan confirms, his eyes distant with memories. “We sent urgent pleas all over the world.”
Wallace nods, but he studies Teagan, likely disconcerted to have a piece of Aparian history here in the room with him. “By the time Carine, Edmund, their Aparian soldiers, and the army of midnight beasts crossed into Cavaron, the gates were broken.”
I return to my seat as well, waiting for him to continue.
“Carine was assassinated that night—killed by her own brother, my distant grandfather. With the link severed, Edmund died with her. My grandfather took the throne, and he began the arduous task of rebuilding Aparia.”
“That’s it?”
Wallace sits back with a sigh. “There’s not much else to the story.”
I highly doubt that, but it’s enough information to take in right now.
Wallace stands, apparently ready to leave. “We’ll meet tomorrow morning at Teagan’s place and travel back into Aparia. I think it would be best to get an early start. Let’s say six?”
“I’ll let everyone know,” I agree.
He nods.
As they leave, Dawson stops in front of me. Very solemn, he says, “Bring warm clothing. It’s cool in Aparia this time of year.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turns away.
“Friendly, isn’t he?” I whisper to Teagan as the Vulture joins me.
He smiles, looking a little too pleased with himself. It makes me nervous.
“What is it?” I ask quietly, eyeing the others.
Rafe’s at the door with Wallace and Dawson, not-so-subtle herding them outside.
“I’m looking forward to seeing home again.” A wistful smile crosses Teagan’s face. “It’s been too long.”
“We need to talk soon,” I say quietly. “You know as well as I do that I’m not staging a political coup.”
He lifts his light eyebrows as if he doesn’t know that.
“Teagan,” I hiss.
“All will be well, Madeline,” he assures me. “For now, we’ll go into Aparia and study the state of things. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? How fortunate for us we found a guide so quickly.”
“Very fortunate.”
He laughs under his breath as he follows Dawson and Wallace out the door.
As soon as the three of them are gone, Rafe turns to me. Uncertainty travels between us, a ghost of the link.
It’s very real. Very there.
“I think my magic is regenerating.” Rafe grits the words out quickly—the same way you remove a bandage that you know is going to hurt.
I draw in a slow breath and hold it. When I begin to feel lightheaded, I force myself to exhale.
Rafe visibly swallows, ripping his eyes from my face. “I think Teagan must have missed some of my magic, and it’s healing itself.”
We both know it’s true.
We knew it the moment Wallace uttered the word “regenerate.”
“What does that mean for us?” I whisper, and then my stomach rolls. “What does that mean for Jonathan?”
Rafe looks ill. “It means—”
I hold up my hand, shaking my head. “Never mind. Don’t say it.”
“We’re all connected.” He growls into his hand and then rubs it over his face, his skin too pale.
“No.”
Just…no.
I refuse.
“We need to test it,” he says heavily.
“I don’t want to test it!”
Why—WHY—is this happening?
“So far, I can only sense you when we’re in the same room,” Rafe says. “The connection…it’s weak.”
“And Jonathan?” I whisper.
“I don’t know.”
“I have to call him.”
Before I can, my phone rings. Of course it does—Jonathan sensed my distress through our link. The question is, did he feel Rafe’s as well?
The thought fills me with dread.
“What happened?” he demands as soon as I answer. “Are you okay?”
How do you even begin to tell your boyfriend that he might be linked with, for lack of a better word, your ex?
“No, I’m…fine.” Mostly. “But I need you to come to my house and look at Rafe.”
“You’re sure you’re all right?” he asks again, sounding a little less harried this time.
Define all right.
“I’m not in danger.”
“Okay…” Jonathan answers, suspicious. “And why am I looking at Rafe?”
“To see if his magic is regenerating.” I pause, cringing when I glance at my grim-faced knight. “Because we think it is.”
“His magic?”
“Just hurry up and get over here, okay?”
“Daniel and I are done with Kat’s car. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
As soon as I end the call, I turn back to Rafe. “He’s on his way.”
The knight only nods.
“Say your magic is somehow healing itself…” I clutch my hands together. “Will our link repair itself too, or will our connection remain weak? And if it does repair itself, where will the three of us be in a year? In five?”
Visions of Vegas haunt me—that awful night. That awful phone call.
Rafe growls as he turns toward the living room and sinks into a chair. I join him, sitting across the room. Neither of us attempts to continue the conversation. We just wait for Jonathan in awkward silence, feeling each other freak out—but only faintly.
Magic is fun.
When Jonathan rings the doorbell, I jump a foot in the air. I hurry to the entry, trying not to wring my hands. I half expect Rafe to follow, but he doesn’t this time.
He does, however, warn, “Check to see who it is before you answer it.”
But I’ve already spotted Jonathan’s Corvette out front.
I swing the door open, and my heart pinches.
“I shouldn’t come in.” Jonathan stands on the step, devastatingly handsome, all smudged with grease, oil, and dirt. His white T-shirt skims over his torso and hugs his biceps. The logo is faded, and his boots are scuffed. “I’m filthy.”
And just to show you how worried he is, he manages to say that with a straight face.
All I want to do is grab his hand, walk out the door, and never look back. Sadly, I can’t do that. But I can hug him.
“Madeline,” he murmurs as I step into him, his hands hovering at our sides. “I was under a car all afternoon.”
“I don’t care,” I mumble against his shirt.
He smells like man, dirt, and oil…
Okay, the oil and dirt don’t smell good. The man part does, though.
“What’s going on?” Deciding keeping me clean is a lost cause at this point, he wraps his arms around me.
“Rafe’s magic is healing itself, and our link along with it. But this time, I’m linked to you, so you’re in the mix as well. So basically…you’re linked to Rafe.” I let out a frustrated moan. “I’m sorry.”
Jonathan goes very still. Ever so gently, he moves his hands to my shoulders and nudges me back. “Madeline.”
“Hmm?” I ask, staring at his chest.
“Look at me.”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together.
He laughs a little. “Sweetheart.”
Finally, I lift my eyes to his, racked with guilt.
“That’s not possible. I’ve never—not ever—heard of or seen a three-way link. Even if Rafe’s magic is…regenerating…” He shakes his head like it’s impossible. “Your connection was severed. I was there when you almost died, remember? I’m positive.”
I bet the Vulture who stole Louisa’s magic was positive, too.
“Is Rafe still here?” Jonathan asks when he sees he hasn’t convinced me.
“He’s in the living room.”
“I’ll take a look at him if it makes you feel better, all right?”
