Teaching the King (Witchling Academy Book 1) Page 16

  Irritation flashed through me again. “Well, this all has been very interesting. Three hundred years ago, the waning power of the mountain king of the Fae ran afoul of the ambition of the ocean king of the Fae and—we won. The castle of the mountain Fae remains in the farthest reaches of the realm, and this is all very important, why?”

  “Because the contract with the Hogan witches was struck in that far-off castle, not here,” Cyril snapped. “Which means the records of that contract were established in an archive that’s not our own.”

  I pressed the heel of my palm into my forehead as I struggled to parse Cyril’s words, willing my hand to wipe away the headache forming there. “How is that possible? I have seen…something about the Hogan line. I know I have.”

  “You have,” Cyril agreed. He waved toward a large book resting on the table beside him. It was gilded at the corners, plated with silver and encrusted with every precious jewel its makers could find, or so it seemed.

  I knew I was still missing something, but this time, Cyril didn’t make me wait.

  “We have faithfully recorded and accepted the Hogan witches’ servitude as law because it has never been called to an accounting. But there are no actual records of the terms of that service. To find those, we must go back to the original dictates of the Fae king who bound her. Never until now has there been a challenge to that law—not even in Reagan Hogan’s time. She simply left. In order to find the original terms of the contract, we must produce the original documents, and we cannot.”

  “I fail to see how this has…”

  And then, of course, I got it. “The battle with the mountain Fae. Their defeat. We had the aid of the Laram, but we weren’t the only faction who sought outside aid. That’s what you’re saying. The mountain Fae had secured a witch to aid them in battle. A witch we then took as our own when the battle was over, pressing her into our service.”

  Cyril smiled grimly. “So it would appear. Or, we asked for the aid of the witch and closed the deal with her in a castle not our own…a castle we didn’t worry about because it had already fallen. However it was managed, by virtue of the fact that we have absolutely no record of the agreement between your family and the Hogans, we can surmise that the agreement with that first witch was struck in the castle of the mountain Fae, not here. If you want any answers about it, that’s where you’ll find them.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And when do you propose we do that? If you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of war, which we need the help of the Hogan witch to win. We have a record of the Hogans serving our kings for the past three hundred years—well, two hundred of those three hundred years, before they abandoned their contract—and every action of the High King is codified into script. So how can we not have some record of a past king restating the Hogan obligation to us, which would then get duly added to the archives?”

  “We can’t,” Cyril agreed. “Unless, of course, their contract with the Fae was struck with the mountain Fae alone, before we defeated them, thereby making any such statement of our kings irrelevant.”

  A sick chill settled in my belly. I’d already seen the value of the Hogan magic. I’d watched Belle produce an academy out of thin air, and I’d felt the power of a spell wrought by a woman long dead that still managed to move both her own great-granddaughter and a High King. And now Cyril was telling me…

  “The Hogans aren’t bound to us?” I groaned. “How is that even possible?”

  “That’s not the right question,” Cyril said. “The proper question is how was it possible for Belle’s great-grandmother to leave. And the answer is: because she could. If she was truly bound by the dictates of the ocean Fae, she never would have been able to cross the border back into the human realm.”

  “That’s not true,” I protested. “Every witch leaves the Fae eventually, and the Hogan line continues in the human realm until their services are needed again. It’s been that way—”

  “For three hundred years,” Cyril supplied.

  “Because it is the law. We never would have been able to bring them back otherwise. The coven from wherever they sprang would never have allowed it.”

  “Both reasonable lines of thought,” Cyril said. “And both incorrect. We were able to bring the Hogan witches back because they were honorable women and believed they’d made a promise they couldn’t rescind. We called, they came. The coven allowed this promise to continue because clearly they derived some benefit from it. The most obvious benefit being that neither we nor the Laram troubled them. Three hundred years of relative peace from an enemy in exchange for a few years of service of one of their witches was considered a viable trade in their eyes, and they also labored under the belief that there was a binding contract. We’ve always just assumed the witches won’t leave until the king allows them to do so. Then, of course, one did.”

  I passed another heavy hand over my brow. “So what you’re saying is…”

  “What I’m saying is, Belle Hogan could leave tomorrow if she wanted to. And if her gift of sight improves to the point where she can see your future, King Aiden, she’s going to figure that out. You need to restrike the covenant before that happens.”

  I stared at him, dread not sneaking up on me, but crashing into me like a body blow. My breath withered in my throat, and the bones in my hands felt like they might splinter, so tightly did I clench my fists. My heart no longer thundered, it quaked, a tight knot of shimmering pain radiating through my chest at the idea of Belle flashing out of my life as quickly as she’d flashed into it.

  And horribly, inexcusably, my dismay wasn’t because our precious Hogan witch would be taking her magic with her when she fled, leaving my people vulnerable to attack. It was because…I couldn’t bear it. With a choked breath, I reached into the neckline of my tunic, pulling out the heavy pendant that hung there. I stared into the deep ruby depths of the Hogan pendant for a long minute, feeling its pulsing heat, reveling in its weight, its truth…and then imagining it ripped away from me for all time.

  “Cyril, I can’t lose her,” I finally whispered as I lifted my gaze again to my advisor, the words sounding strangled to my own ears. “I think she’s my one true mate.”

  He sighed heavily. “I was afraid of that.”

  27

  Belle

  Everything in my body screamed at me not to believe Lena, this too-beautiful cousin of the king with her dark eyes and twisting words, but the insanity of her claim worked against me. In my life-long experience as a barkeeper, I’d learned the most bizarre allegations of my patrons were at least partially rooted in truth, or at least a truth they’d convinced themselves of.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’re a member of the king’s family. Even if what you’re saying is true, why would you tell me? What’s in it for you?”

  Lena frowned in dismay. “Do you humans think so poorly of us that you believe we’re incapable of doing the right thing?”

  “Oh, please.” I waved off her disingenuous outrage. “The right thing to a Fae has very little to do with the right thing to a human. The last time you all walked the earth on a regular basis, we treated you as gods. It tends to skew one’s perspective.”

  “I don’t expect you to believe me, but you should,” she countered, throwing a worried glance over her shoulder, as if Aiden was right outside. “Use your magic to determine the truth—or your eyes if your magic fails you. There are plenty of books Cyril has locked up in his archives that deal with the ancient law. I’m not the only one who knows the truth. I’m just the one with the closest access to you.”

  “Uh-huh. And, again, why are you sharing this with me? If your reason actually made sense, I’d probably believe you faster.”

  Lena looked annoyed, and when she spoke, I knew her words would be lies. But once again, sometimes it took understanding the lies first before you could eventually drive down to the truth.

  “The king has spent the past several years fighting. His skill in warcraft is unmatched, but there
is more to running a kingdom than just being capable of killing your enemies. He doesn’t pay enough attention to our history or our lore. He would drag us into a war that none of us want.”

  I frowned. “Isn’t war happening whether you like it or not?”

  “All war is avoidable if both sides are willing to sit down and have a civil conversation,” Lena informed me with a toss of her head. “The Fae don’t need to descend to the level of humans in this. If there are disagreements, if there are multiple sides to a particular story, why wouldn’t we want to address them right away?”

  “Well, okay…” I allowed, trying to get a fix on Lena and what her future might hold. My precog sight had not proven very effective in the day or two I’d spent in the Fae realm, but give me a break. I’d been a little overwhelmed. Nevertheless—Aiden and I had just bonded, or whatever the hell had happened, in my great-grandmother’s cottage. Shouldn’t I be getting better at this?

  Either way, I didn’t want Lena to figure out I was fumbling my whole mighty-witch act. I fixed her with a hard glare. “Okay, so out with it. I’m prophesied to die? According to who—and how, exactly?”

  “Not just die—to be killed by the king,” Lena corrected me coldly. “The most ancient texts insist upon it, from back when witches first came to serve the Fae. When war comes to our land, your death must follow as sure as day follows night. Only once he kills you or banishes you and your line forever, will the Fae be safe again. Why do you think the Hogan witches were so eager to help the Fae keep the peace? It’s just your poor luck that war is already here.”

  There was an awful lot to unpack about that announcement, but the most burning question, I wasn’t going to put to Lena—namely, where in the hell had she read this? And where could I get my grubby little hands on that information? But I could sense she had more of an agenda than educating me. I nodded, frowning, as if I was carefully accepting her words. “So what would you have me do?”

  “Leave,” Lena said succinctly. “The sooner King Aiden begins to deal with our problems using the strength of the Fae alone, not depending on races apart from ours, the better off we will be. I have no quarrel with you, Witch Hogan. I know you don’t want to be a prisoner within these walls, and I know that King Aiden brought you here against your will. I’m simply offering you a way out. To save the Fae you must leave him, or die. Now that war is upon us, there’s no other choice for you.”

  I blew out a careful breath. What Lena was suggesting was tantamount to treason, to defy Aiden so boldly. That idea alone sent me reeling. What was her game here? “You’re kind of taking a major risk even talking to me. How can you think that you can trust me to keep this request, this advice, a secret?”

  Something shifted in Lena’s eyes, gone in a flash, but I recognized it for what it was. Confidence—almost laughter, but not quite. She thought she was dealing with an idiot, a child at the very least, someone so far beneath her abilities that the idea of me turning the tables and tricking her was laughable.

  “I know you won’t betray me to King Aiden. He would never believe you. He’s loyal to his family and the Fae above anything, and the idea of one of us betraying him would undermine everything that is right and good. He would be forced to investigate, and then he would learn the truth as well, that the death of the Hogan witch would ensure the safety of the realm now that we are mired in war. Don’t assume he won’t use you for those ends, especially if killing you is the quicker, easier path.”

  She meant the words as an insult, and sure enough, they did piss me off. Still, I worked hard to look pitiful, and she continued. “But there are other ways to ensure the safety of the realm. You could leave of your own volition. We get the same result, but you get to live out your years doing…whatever it is you do, picking up whatever you left behind.”

  I couldn’t help myself. My mind flashed to my tavern, to the faces of the lost and hunted witches as they realized that they had, in fact, come to the right place. That they would be safe and no longer trapped. Fortunately, Lena was too wrapped up in her own machinations to notice.

  “I don’t know how to leave,” I said honestly. At this point, I didn’t want to leave, if only, perversely, because this rando who I knew was not my friend was pushing it so heavily. But just because the idea served Lena alone, didn’t mean it was a bad idea. And if she did know how to get it done, I would be foolish not to at least have the option in my back pocket.

  “We can help you,” Lena said quickly.

  We? We who? my brain demanded. Lena’s smile widened broadly while I tried to process the word we, her eyes going guileless and her manner taking on an entirely different effect.

  She turned to the door with a grand flourish, her dress spinning out around her. “King Aiden,” she said loudly, bowing slightly while lifting her fisted hand to her chest. “I was just explaining to Belle that we could help her learn the customs of court so that she would feel more comfortable with tomorrow’s grand celebration.”

  I also had turned during this little speech, but it took me a moment to catch my breath at the king’s return—mainly because he was, well, breathtaking. His dark hair was lashed back, tumbling down his back, his ocean-storm eyes flashed, and his jaw was clenched tight. Actually, his entire body was taut with energy, even anger. My mind skipped to Lena’s warning and a thread of real fear slipped through me. Would Aiden try to kill me? Could he succeed, given that Jorgen had informed me my sense of security around the Fae was seriously overinflated?

  And who was this we Lena had mentioned?

  All these thoughts zipped through me in the blink of an eye, and I also didn’t miss how Aiden stiffened at Lena’s final words.

  “This is no time for celebration, Lena. We are at war.”

  “Wartime is the best reason of all to assemble your allies and show your strength.” She lifted her hands as if she could take back her own words, the gesture both pretty and charming at once. “Forgive me. Who am I to say what you should do?” she continued in a rush. “Apologies, my king. I didn’t mean to presume.”

  I barely avoided rolling my eyes. Oh, she meant to presume, all right. This chick was an Olympic champion at presuming.

  Whatever her intentions, her comments landed the way she wanted. Aiden blinked, then favored his cousin with an indulgent smile. “Not at all,” he said, his tone turning speculative and resigned. “Cyril didn’t mention this to me.”

  “Cyril believes, perhaps to his detriment, that a dinner is merely a meal and a ball is merely dancing,” Lena chided. “You know better.”

  “That I do,” he said. His gaze shifted to me, and something dark took him, making me want to step back.

  “I’ll prepare Belle for what’s to come,” he said roughly. “I’m sure you can find her suitable clothing. The rest I can handle.”

  “Of course, King Aiden,” Lena cooed, the soul of submission. She didn’t spare me a glance as she swept out of the room, while Aiden’s eyes only narrowed on me.

  “You’re agitated, afraid. You were before I entered the room. Why? What did Lena say to you?”

  I drew in a quick breath. I hadn’t spent enough time with Aiden today to know what he might have learned, what spells he might already have assimilated. And there was a stronger psychic bond between us. My great-grandmother’s ensorceled cups had assured that, even though I’d yet to feel any clear effect from them.

  I smoothed my features as best I could. “Well, she told me about the ball,” I lied. Not so much to protect Lena, but because I wasn’t willing to show my cards yet. “I don’t need a ball. I need time to study and prepare, to prepare you.”

  “Well then, maybe we should accelerate that education process.” He took a step forward, and my heart rate jacked.

  “Accelerate it how?” I blurted, though from the look in his eye, I had a pretty good idea.

  My hands flared with heat—actually, every inch of me did.

  Uh-oh.

  28

  Aiden

&nb
sp; Belle was lying to me. I knew it as surely as I could see her standing there, quivering with conflicting emotions. I didn’t know why she was lying, and I didn’t understand the relief she felt at Lena’s departure, but I chalked that up to nerves. Lena could have that effect on people.

  “Accelerate it how?” she asked, sounding not exactly wary, but worried. I frowned. I thought we’d gotten beyond this already, and her reaction concerned me. When Belle was truly afraid, she acted with anger. Worry and wariness implied her mind was calculating ways to fight, not merely coming up with protective strategies. I was always up for a good fight, but the heat that instantly radiated off her made me hesitate, reassess. I didn’t know Belle as well as I needed to—or her magic. I didn’t know how she had changed.

  I needed to know more.

  Slowly, deliberately, I stopped in front of her and withdrew her illusion satchel, pulling out one of the books we’d recovered from the retreat house. Cyril had found absolutely nothing compelling about any of the tomes, and they certainly didn’t include the damning information I’d just learned about the Hogan contract, but Belle didn’t know that.

  “I was thinking we could start here—working together. Close together.”

  Her cheeks flared red, but the dangerous radiating heat banked. “Oh… Oh. That’s fine. We should start with this book, and um, if there are other books you have tucked away in the castle—any books—that could help as well. We might as well assemble them all.”

  “We’ll start with these.” I thought for only a moment of the hall of the mountain Fae, lashed with snow and ice, its secrets about the Hogan witches buried deep within it. Then I gestured Belle toward me, deliberately opening the book and glancing down, then back at her. “I don’t think you’ll be able to read the text from over there.”

  Belle flapped her hands a little, as if she didn’t know what to do with them. The heat flaring around her returned, the air seeming to fizz and sparkle between us. “And I’m telling you I don’t believe more physical intimacy is required—”