Becky
This was all her fault.
She should never have allowed their boss to walk across the entry. She’d foolishly thought her family’s belief in unconditional acceptance would extend even to The Villain. This place was meant to be a refuge, but it was to be his prison.
Though he could survive the test, could be deemed worthy. There was a chance.
“Rebecka, my goodness! You’ve only been home twenty minutes and the house is in an uproar. Whatever is the matter?” Renna, her mother, glided into the room, her long red hair cascading down her back in auburn waves. “My sweet girl, you’ve come home.” Renna took a step toward her, and Becky took four large steps back.
Renna flinched.
Blade moved next to Becky, angling his body slightly in front of her, shielding her from her mother’s hurt. His purple vest oddly fit the scene, like he was the one who belonged here, not her. Tatianna and Clare drifted slowly toward the bookshelf in the back corner of the room, like they wanted to escape from the familial conflict. Becky wished she could escape it, too.
“Mother.” Becky folded her lips and nodded, feeling far too much like a girl of twelve, not a woman of twenty-five. “The fortress has taken my boss as its next victim. If you’ve any ideas on how to reverse it, now would be the time.” She kept her composure in the question, as she always did. But there was a jittery panic at the thought of her boss being hurt and the trickle effect it would have on the others. There were few people who mattered to her, well and truly. Inconveniently, nearly every single one of them was under this roof.
Renna’s eyes widened as Becky’s father tumbled in after her. Julius Fortis had married into their family when he’d met her mother at a local fair. He’d been selling flowers, her mother had made them dance, and the rest was a fairy tale. Her father’s love was instant and intense, as he loved everyone— as he loved Becky. It was a discomfiting thought to Becky rather than a comfort, to be so consumed by affection for another that it compromised all your sense and restraint. Becky far preferred to remain in control of her life, of herself. Never mind that her eyes kept searching for Blade. That feeling would pass, and any hints of affection would ease. Her father did not hold such principles.
Julius didn’t give her the chance to back away, just moved his tall frame over to her before lifting her from the floor and spinning her around. “My little Becky! How I’ve missed you!” He dropped her and frowned. “You’re too thin. Is The Villain starving you? Is that one of his methods?”
“Julius!” Renna scolded. “Show some sensitivity. Your daughter is quite worried for the man. He’s been taken to the Trench for judgment.”
Julius frowned, removing his gardening hat to reveal a thick head of shiny black hair. His brown skin was covered in sweat from the blaring sun’s heat. “Oh dear.” He whispered to her, “Could you get another job?”
Becky slapped her forehead, and she heard Roland groan into his hands. “No, Dad,” Becky said, looking to Evie, who was watching the scene, bewildered. “We’re going to err on the side of optimism and assume he will survive till supper.” She assured her coworker, “He will survive, Evie. I’m certain of it.”
She wasn’t, but if there was one thing she couldn’t tolerate, it was Evie’s sadness. It was the equivalent of watching a baby deer be pushed down by a stiff wind: sad, helpless, and a little pathetic.
Renna’s head turned slowly toward Evie, and a small gasp escaped her lips. “Oh. It’s you. Oh, my dear.” Her mother was in front of Evie in seconds with her hands clasped around her cheeks. Evie looked too stunned to move, eyes darting to Becky’s. They seemed to say, What do I do?
Becky threw her hands up as if to reply, I don’t know!
“Um, hello, Lady Fortis,” Evie said with a shaky smile—one that didn’t reach her eyes. They were too spun with worry. “Do you, um… That is to say… You know who I am?”
Renna beamed, pushing one of Evie’s loose hairs back. “You have your mother’s curls. She told me you did, but it’s another thing entirely to see
them upon your head.”
Evie softened, Becky’s mother melting her like butter left too close to the fire. Her mother often had that effect on people. Becky rolled her eyes.
“My mother?” Evie asked. “So, we were right. She’s here?”
Renna released Evie and took her hand, pulling her over to sit. “Archibald, would you go fetch Reid to update us on The Villain’s welfare for the daughter of my dearest friend?” Archibald followed the command posthaste, and her mother turned back to Evie with a sympathetic expression. “I wish I had better means to assist in the matter. The Fortis magic can be unruly and unpredictable at times. As much as we can manage it, it simply cannot be controlled completely. The Villain, I’m afraid, will be no exception to ancient destiny’s tests if he possesses the power he’s rumored to. But hope is not lost.”
She eyed Evie with calm curiosity. Becky’s mother had always been able to see through people, right to the core of their feelings; Becky had hated it as a child. She hated it even more now, watching it be used on someone so vulnerable. “I can see you care for him a great deal.”
Evie’s eyes watered. “I…I do.”
The door to the green room opened farther, and her grandmother, Ramona, was wheeled in by a footman, who bowed and promptly left the room. Her grandmother smiled wide, the high planes of her face lined and spotty. But she looked more lively than she had the last time Becky saw her.
Becky reached her in two strides, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Ramona’s wrinkled cheek. “I’m glad to see you up and about, Grandmother.”
Ramona Fortis was a spitfire with very little tolerance for nonsense. When she’d fallen ill, it had devastated the family so tremendously, it created tensions that never dissipated, opened wounds that never healed.
“You think a little magical illness can keep an old girl down?” Grandmother laughed, then coughed harshly into her arm. But her grandmother lightened the weight of the worried glances from everyone in the room by observing, “This illness is a bitch.”
Becky barked a laugh and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Grandmother!”
Her grandmother’s brown eyes twinkled as she pulled a strand of hair from her pulled-back bun. The gesture made Becky feel like she’d swallowed something thick as she twined her fingers together.
Renna leaned down and kissed her mother on the cheek, too, then smiled up at Evie. “Mother, this is Nura Sage’s daughter, Evie.”
Ramona’s eyes widened, a gasp sounding on her lips. “Oh my. There is a likeness between them, isn’t there?”
The pleasant smile on Evie’s face was forced, and her fingers were squeezing into her palms in a way that looked painful.
Becky couldn’t take any more. “Enough, Mother. You’re torturing her.
Where is her mother? Where is Nura Sage?”
Renna frowned. “Rebecka, do not be rude. I still expect you to use your manners when under our roof.”
Becky’s face heated, the sensation climbing up her neck; she felt like she was a mere child once again, scolded for stealing a cookie. But the next thing she knew, Blade was objecting. “Excuse me, Lady Fortis, but you will not meet another person on this continent with better manners than your daughter.”
Oh, she wished he hadn’t done that. Because now her mother’s and her grandmother’s hawk eyes were on him. Sharp and shrewd, they assessed him as Renna asked, “And who might you be?”
Blade didn’t cower, merely stepped forward with a gentle bow. “Bladen Gushiken, Lady Fortis. Of the Gleaming City Gushikens.”
Bladen? Becky snorted into her hand, and she watched Blade’s eyes dart to her at the sound. There was a look of astonishment on his face, like he couldn’t believe it had come out of her.
Renna looked impressed. “A politician’s son for a partner, Rebecka? And here I thought you had no interest in such pursuits.” Her mother made a point to be aware of all the noble families in Rennedawn. Of course she’d know Blade’s family name immediately, his father being one of the king’s valued advisors. Even more reason why Blade should’ve kept his mouth shut.
Becky waved a hand through the air. “Mother, he is not my partner. He’s merely a colleague: a beast trainer at the office.” He wasn’t merely anything, but Becky couldn’t say that—not when it could so easily be used against her.
Blade seemed to take it in stride, though. “It’s true, my lady. I have no association with my father any longer. I am disowned with no footing in society. No title. I am a beast trainer, nothing more, and certainly not your daughter’s partner.”
Renna absorbed the information with a nod. Becky frowned, and Blade grinned as he tacked a word on the end: “Yet.”
Her mother laughed, and her grandmother whistled, eyeing Blade like a prized piece of meat. “I’ll tell you, if I was sixty years younger…”
Becky’s eyes flared, and Renna chuckled behind her hand. “Rebecka, please reconsider. Good with animals and charming are the most admirable traits.”
“The arms.” Her grandmother whistled again, and Becky buried her face in her hands.
“Deadlands bury me,” Becky grumbled.
When she finally peeked up, Blade was grinning so wide she thought he’d split a lip, and her mother and grandmother were smiling right back. “So, Mr. Gushiken, I take it the dragon currently destroying our lawn is yours?”
From two decades with her mother, Becky knew when she was trying to change topics. “Nura Sage, Mother? Your dearest friend? Where is she?”
Renna brightened. “Of course. Forgive me—too much excitement. It riles the blood.” Evie was wringing her hands so hard, Becky half expected water to escape them. “Your mother was with us for some time, Evie. It’s been such a blessing to have my dear friend so near again. But I’m afraid she is away with one of our healers at our second home by the Lilac Sea.”
Becky was incredulous. “Why would you send her away? Don’t you know the king is looking for her? The danger she’s in?”
Renna’s eyes flared, too, as she stood to match Becky’s height. “I have known Nura longer than you’ve been alive. I have seen her at every stage of life, and you do not know the ghost she was when she fell at our doorstep. Even the boys were appalled. Right, Roland?”
Roland fidgeted with his glasses, wincing. “She was rather worse for wear, but the poor woman has been through a lot,” he said gently.
“She was vacant behind the eyes. A husk. The woman I knew was full of laughter and light, but it was as if all those things had been sucked right out of her. The specialist said he’d never seen a person so badly mutilated by magic. We tried everything we could to help her but eventually decided to send her to the very best place with the very best care, and by all accounts, she is improving.” Renna exhaled, tension leaving her shoulders. “Now that her daughter is here, I will have word sent for her to return at once. She should be here in two days’ time at most.”
Renna looked at Becky then, motioning toward the corner to speak
privately. She followed her reluctantly, rubbing at her arms as her mother spoke in hushed tones. “When Nura returns and the rest of your coworkers leave, might you consider staying, even just a few extra days?” Her mother was so hopeful, it hurt.
Becky sighed, running a finger over her loose strand of hair. “I can’t just forget what you did, Mother, no matter how much you want me to.”
In her mother’s desperation for a cure to the Mystic Illness, she’d taken it upon herself to extend an invitation to King Benedict, to see if their combined resources might lead to a solution. Becky had been a different person then, with her colorful clothes and her unbound hair—even her glasses had been brighter, a magenta pink to match the flower on the front door. Her greatest crime was being eager to please.
The heir to the Fortis family’s magic had to be perfect. She’d been chosen by the land to inherit. Her oldest brother, Raphael, had been angry at the revelation, and by all accounts it should’ve been him. But Becky had been born with exceptional gifts. This land called to her, and she called to it.
Benedict had seen that gift—and an opportunity. He’d made large claims of a cure to the Mystic Illness, promising that all Becky had to do was offer the use of her magic. Her mother had agreed for her; it hadn’t occurred to her to ask what Becky wanted.
“I followed all the rules you ever gave me,” Becky told her mother now in a low tone. “I walked a narrow line my entire life, and the only thing I got in return was censure for not wanting to give away what belonged to me.”
Renna flinched. “That was a terrible day. I let Benedict manipulate me into believing that your magic was the only way to cure your grandmother, and I was so desperate then. You know how we repel the crown; it was misguided. But things are different now. I’ve learned from my mistakes.”
Becky steeled herself, putting iron bars around her resolve. “Which ones? Letting Benedict leave after I refused you? Or when you tried to steal my magic anyway?”
A tear slipped down Renna’s cheek, but she quickly swiped it away, eyes darting to the far corner of the room. “Oh, please don’t touch that, dear,” Renna called to Clare, who’d wandered away from the bookshelf and was reaching out toward a large, stemmed flower by the window with pearl-like petals.
Clare tilted her head and moved her hand away. “This is a memory plant, yes?”
Tatianna frowned, still staring at the bookshelf. “What’s a memory plant?” Becky remembered the rare flower from her childhood, tarnished as it was now in her eyes—there were only three left in the world, and two of them resided in the fortress. “It holds memories the way people do; it can even mimic them on occasion.” She pointedly looked at her mother. “And some
people have attempted to use it in the past to siphon magic.” Her mother flinched.
Clare leaned an ear down to listen to the flower, not reading the distress coming from Becky or her mother, but they all startled when Reid stormed into the room, boyish and rugged as always. “Hey, sis!” Reid waved at her, never overly affectionate. He’d always been her favorite. “We, um. The Villain is…”
Evie perked up, panic written all over her face. “He’s what?”
Reid’s eyes widened when he saw her, and he swallowed. “I think he’s dying.”
