“A raid was done on my village in the name of the king last week. His soldiers left with one thing. The Book of Severed Souls was all that was confiscated.”
“Severed Souls?” I hate how lost I’m feeling in all of this.
“My great grandmother, Ebony Mary Crows, was an Elder Witch.” She pauses, and I wonder if she’s leaving parts of the story out. Editing it to reflect what she wants. “The diary is outlawed in all eight courts. It’s said she destroyed the text centuries ago upon instruction of Queen Delorence.”
“Obviously, she did not.”
“Of course she didn’t,” she says with outrage. “I wish she had.” Her tone lowers as her gaze drifts to the messy space between her and me. “She enchanted it. It’s an everlasting script that canneverbe destroyed. It’s also the darkest source of black magic known to man, specifically used for keeping, strengthening, and using departed souls.”
Can the undead be controlled? Could my father even use an army of the dead without hurting his own people?
Imagine the lives that would be lost upon impact with that kind of relentless power. He’s a reckless man. A selfish man.
A dangerous man.
“Don’t let this asshole lure you into her problems.” Nollix’s gruff voice tears at my attention, and I look back at the others. They watch Cameron with such unnerving judgment that for once, it feels like they are on my side.
Slowly, I stand. Plaster cracks beneath my boots as I stride through the demolished home. I exit through a large hole in the wall, and Cameron trails quietly behind me.
“Where are you going now?” Jeriko asks in a growl.
The sunlight highlights the tattered panels of Birkin’s home that now lie across his pretty flower garden.
“I’m going to retrieve the Book of Severed Souls.”
Before my father tears this kingdom apart.
9
Merrick
Beads of sweatthreaten to drip into my eyes. I blink heavily, twisting and turning my body weight into the motion that follows my sword. Metal clangs against metal as my weapon meets the other.
“You’ll have to do better than that to beat me,” Bramwell hisses through clenched teeth.
We push off each other with hearty huffs. I roll my neck, trying to work out the knots that have formed in my muscles from sitting so tensely during tea. My palms are warm and slick against the hilt, but I hold firmly as we circle each other.
Swordplay is a mandatory skill we all must learn, but it’s one of the subjects that I’ve liked the most and have found that I am quite good at. Casimir, too, though with the markings on his back still healing, he sits on a long bench on the other side of the room. There’s a board strung up on the farthest wall with deeply carved tally marks to track our wins against one another. I’m currently up by two, but on any given day, we are quite an even match.
Bramwell is just his stand-in.
I lunge. Bramwell swings. Our feet move quick and light over the padded floor, mimicking the way our swords dance.
“You’re so aggressive today,” Casimir calls. Bramwell cocks his head, an animal fixated on its victim. “Your visit with Queen Lairis didn’t go so well?”
My laugh echoes through the empty room. “Oh, just wait till you hear this.”
Then Bramwell is advancing, and I’m batting his swing away before we meet again, frozen with our swords crossed between us, both too stubborn to give in. I’m hardly able to get the rest of my thoughts out between the effort I’m exuding.
“Basilus.” I pant. “Queen Lairis.” Another pause to catch my breath, and Bramwell smirks. “They want to marry Violence off.”
His smile falls, his brows pinching with confusion. “What?” He gives enough that I’m able to shove him back, his sword falling for only a few moments before it’s back up.
“You heard,” I chip away at him, swinging again and again, “me... right.”
“To whom?” Casimir asks.
The blades’ edges meet, the metal shrieking.
