Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

M y Combat Trial had been laughable. The magically-altered beast I'd fought had looked to have been an ape at some point, but fighting it was nothing compared to the true chaos of war, the bloody fight for survival and clash of steel and death which I was so accustomed to. I'd stalked from the assessment chamber without even bothering to wait for the Reapers there to confirm that I had achieved the necessary judgement. I hadn't even used the golden weapon they'd given me to kill it, showing them what I was capable of with brute force and my bare hands instead. If that was their idea of battle preparation, then I was glad I wasn't receiving any physical combat training for war in this place.

The Reaper whose cold and clammy palm had pressed to my forehead while invading my mind with their Cyclops power had actually snatched his hand back after delving into some of my most brutal memories. I'd done things in the name of Stormfell which apparently made even the servants of the stars flinch. I'd given him a sweet smile as he ushered me out of the assessment, confirming I had no Seer abilities either, his pallor decidedly paler than when I'd begun.

I strode out into a wide courtyard where all those Fae who had passed their Combat Trials before me were either pausing for a break or heading to join the long lines which rose up the distant pathway clinging to the mountain ahead of us.

The setting sun was still shining brightly and I closed my eyes, tipping my head to the sky and bathing in the feeling of our closest star offering out its blessing.

There were eyes on me, many watchful eyes, plenty of them hostile, though I held little fear of them acting on their hatred here.

I released a long breath then opened my eyes again. Reapers stood all around the courtyard, lining the pathways which ran up the mountain too. Their gold robes made them stand out starkly among the sea of battle leathers and war regalia. There was something about the holders of the faith which always unsettled me, and even when the hoods of their cloaks were facing away, I felt their attention prickling at me like they knew things the rest of us didn't. Perhaps their placement closer to the stars than the rest of us gave them a higher level of understanding, or perhaps they just believed it did and so soaked up the feeling of supremacy.

Many of the Fae now awaiting their Awakening would be hoping for the blessing of the stars to call them into the service of the Reapers and gift them a gold robe of their own.

It was a sign from the stars themselves that they were to be lifted above the position of warrior for their born nation and instead elevated into the ranks of the Reapers who stood apart from the ties of blood and calls of war.

I couldn't think of anything worse. I was a born warrior and the call of the air kingdom sang in my blood despite my stained heritage. I had been created to fight and nothing more. Being selected to stand apart, to reign beyond, sounded like its own personal slice of hell to me. I was no Reaper and if by any twist of bad luck I felt the call to wield an element in addition to air, I planned to reject it or, at worst, hide it because my place in this world was on the battlefield.

A shiver darted down my spine, instincts honed in battle snapping my head around and my eyes meeting with the steely gaze of a man who looked so out of place that for a moment all I could do was stare at him.

He was tall; even in this place of Fae and beasts, he stood a head taller than most and clearly dwarfed me. His curling hair hung to his chin, clinging to the deep brown skin of his sharp jaw and the dark clothing he wore, made of layered fabric which wrapped around his frame yet hung loose enough for free movement, marked him out as different. Even if everything else about him hadn't screamed it for all to see.

Danger had long since called my name and I didn't balk at the hungry look he gave me before parting his lips in a feral smile.

Shock jolted through me, though outwardly I didn't react at the sight of the fangs he now bared in clear warning. Or…no, that wasn't a warning, his eyes sparked with excitement and if I wasn't mistaken, I would have to say it was desire in his expression – not for my body but for my blood. No doubt the wound marring my face, still bloody and raw only made him hunger for it more.

Vampire.

I pursed my lips in distaste. Of course I knew all about the Vampire covens who had stolen great swathes of the wastelands to the far east of The Waning Lands for their empire, but never before had I come face to face with them.

In fact, as I let my gaze trail behind him, I found four shadows clinging to his back, more of his kind come to seek their newest recruits.

Upon the Awakening of our elemental magic, any Fae whose Order form was a Vampire would Emerge, their fangs snapping out and an insatiable desire for blood consuming them instantly.

We were a continent at war and yet there was one exception to that immovable truth – the Vampires were a law unto themselves. They didn't care what elemental magic a Fae held in their veins, they only cared for their own kind. And the rest of us had long ago learned not to interfere with their way of life.

The Vampires formed covens among themselves, the groupings so powerful when united that none could stand against them in battle. They moved with inhuman speed and fought with unnatural strength, running rampant at will and snatching unsuspecting victims to feast upon up and down the borders of our lands.

I sneered openly at the group who had clearly come to claim any Fae who Emerged as one of them, glad to know that I wouldn't be risking that fate, having already Emerged as a Succubus and knowing my own Order form.

"Nice," Dalia purred from behind me, and I tore my gaze from the fixed stare of the Vampire to look at her. "Do you want to share him?"

"The bloodsucker?" I sneered. "I've heard that their debauchery extends further than even a Succubus can comprehend. Besides, I don't much like the idea of being bitten while taking my pleasure."

"Hmm," Dalia sighed. "Pity we have other plans – I think I could give the biting a go if there's any truth to the fact that they only fuck as a pack."

I glanced at the group of Vampires again, watching as they stalked away up the path, their unusual clothes billowing and their volatile reputations making certain that no one got in their way.

"Interesting," I said, but my mind wasn't really focused on the idea of fucking Vampires; my attention had shifted to the line which wound up the mountainside towards the cavern marked with the symbols of the air signs.

"Where's-" I began but I cut myself off as my gaze fell on Moraine who had just emerged from her own Combat Trial, shoving several Fae aside when they failed to move fast enough and knocking one of them into the dirt.

"Miss me?" she cooed, the sun glinting off of her silver, braided hair.

"Like a pain in the ass," I replied sweetly before turning towards the path and leading the way up it.

My gaze trailed to the right where the conscripts from Pyros were winding their way along their own route, offering up a wicked smile as some of the Flamebringers noticed me, hissing my name to each other on the wind.

"This is weird," Dalia commented. "They're right there, practically within striking distance and yet we're just…leaving them alive. Letting them draw breath. My palms are itching for my daggers and my mind is spinning endlessly with all the ways I could carve them up into little lumps of coal but I'm not acting on any of it. I feel so malcontent."

I snorted my amusement but didn't waste any more time looking to Pyros's warriors. My focus was fixed on the cavern at the very top of our pathway.

We reached the back of the line but I simply shoved the closest Fae aside and barked a command for the rest to move.

Some dared to grumble. One asshole actually stepped out of line and made to draw his sword, but my fist collided with the back of his hand, forcing him to drop it right before my elbow jerked up and caught him beneath the chin, knocking him on his ass.

I stepped over him and Moraine definitely stepped on him, but after that, the rest simply got out of our fucking way.

Sky Witch. Sky Witch. Sky Witch.

The name echoed on whispers as our arrival was announced ahead of us, necks craning, the odd idiot groaning, one or two throwing themselves towards me with declarations of love or desire.

I ignored them all, letting my sisters knock back any who got too close, though for the most part, the other members of the line restrained those who were completely lost to my allure. I didn't dislike what I was, but I had to admit that it grew tiring to endure the blurted declarations of lust and devotion whenever I was forced to move among strangers.

We made it to the front of the queue, the girl who had been about to step forward to take her turn at her Awakening quickly retreating and offering us her position.

I looked up at the three symbols which had been carved into a plate of white stone above the yawning entrance to the cavern, Aquarius, Gemini and Libra each represented in simple, clear depictions.

The cool air within the pitch black of the cavern washed over my face and the Reapers who stood to either side of it gestured for me to enter.

I glanced at Moraine, offering her a faint nod then to Dalia whose short hair had fallen forward into her dark eyes. Her lips lifted with anticipation and excitement. I almost smiled in reply before turning and heading towards the pitch black of the cavern.

"Actually, I think I might go first today." Dalia reached out, grasping my elbow and trying to shove her way ahead of me.

I caught her wrist in mine, my knee colliding with the side of hers and I knocked her back into the wall with a feral snarl.

"Down girl," I hissed, smirking at her while my forearm crushed her windpipe and her dark eyes sparked with amusement.

"Bitch," she rasped lovingly.

"Asshole," I replied in kind, pressing a kiss to her cheek before shoving away from her and heading off into the dark.

The two of them sniggered like a pair of alley cats who had just goaded a lioness, and I shook my head at their nonsense while trying to concentrate on what was ahead of me.

I knew roughly how this went – I needed to pledge myself to the will of the air signs and beg they offer up their power to my unworthy soul. Then some kind of sparkly star shit would take over, unlock my ability to wield air magic. After that, I simply had to channel it with enough force to pass my Magical Trial and then I'd place at Never Keep.

The dark pressed in on all sides, the passage before me twisting downwards, my own instincts keeping my feet on the path despite the lack of visual aids.

The fading sunlight from the entrance to the cavern was swallowed as I descended beyond its reach and my footsteps began to echo dully, the air growing colder as it swept through my hair. Despite my blindness, I got the impression that there was a drop opening up on either side of me and an equally huge space yawning overhead.

My boots met with stairs but I didn't falter, heading down them one at a time, a deep pressure surrounding me as the magic of this place reached out and took stock of me. I felt rather than heard whispers from all around, the sigh of a hand brushing my cheek, the taste of blood gracing my tongue. Were the stars watching me now, leaning closer to place judgement upon my war-bound soul?

A tall door creaked open before me and I squinted into the golden light which emerged from it, hesitating as my eyes adjusted, my gaze roaming over the carvings on the wooden frame. There were the usual symbols for air magic mixed in with runes which spoke of power and the will of the land.

I crossed the threshold with my chin raised and my skin prickled from the kiss of magic on the air.

Before me, three huge statues awaited, the twins of Gemini represented as glorious queens with wings that glimmered with golden light in a way which made them seem aflame. The scales of Libra were balanced perfectly on my right with the water bearer for Aquarius looking at me over his upturned bucket, his eyes spearing me right to my core.

No one else stood in the room, though something told me I was being observed and I lifted my head, squinting into the golden light and finding the open sky far above me, the stars glimmering in the darkening sky as they looked down on this place of spun fortunes.

My heart leapt as a deep chanting started up from the gloom beyond the shadows. It sounded like a hundred male voices all moving to a precise and powerful melody, spoken in a language I had never heard before.

Take the hands of Gemini , a voice breathed on the wind and I swallowed against the unearthly aura which wound its way around me momentarily before sweeping away once more.

I had never been one to hesitate, so I strode forward, my gaze locked on the outstretched hands of those warrior queens.

I reached for them, my entire hand only managing to encircle a fingertip on each of the immense statues, cold stone skimming across my palm.

I looked up into the faces of the twins as the chanting grew louder then bit down on a curse as something reached inside of me and pulled.

The taste of dirt washed over my tongue, threatening to choke me as a power so solid and immovably wrong rushed through me, making me fight against the urge to cry out in pain and scream for it to stop. The seconds dragged, my hands seemingly fused to the statues as that rough presence tried to tear something out of me which I was utterly unable to give.

I spat as the taste of mud slipped from my tongue, panting against the discomfort of that foul magic before screaming in earnest as water rushed into my lungs and I found myself drowning.

I heaved and coughed, jerking against the hold the twin statues had on me, my body convulsing violently as the acidic water burned its way through me.

But no, that hadn't been burning at all because as I finally managed to cough the water free of my lungs, every piece of me caught fire. Sparks flashed before my eyes, the stench of burning flesh engulfing me, my body thrashing and quaking as I fought to free myself from its unending torment.

Just as I thought I would surely die from the ravaging flames, they fell away, my chest expanding on an inhale of the purest breath I had ever taken. It was crisp and clear, a rush of tumultuous energy which sped not only through my aching lungs but into my blood, my flesh, my soul.

A breath of laughter spilled from my lips as the power embraced me and I embraced it in turn, relishing the rush of raw magic, letting it engulf me and awaken some part of my being which I couldn't imagine ever having been without. It was a part of me, intrinsically bound to every piece of who and what I was. The power built and built, my fingers trembling with the desire to unleash it and suddenly I was stumbling away from the statues, a wide and pure smile lighting my entire face, tugging at the aching wound on my cheek.

I barely even noticed the door that opened beyond the statues, my feet carrying me through it as I revelled in the power, its sweet caress lighting me up from the inside out, begging me to set it free.

I moved across a wide outcrop on the northern cliff of Helle Fort, the line of Fae moving aside for me as I practically ran towards the Magical Trial arena. I shoved my way through the wooden doors to the hulking arena before an idiot who started babbling nonsense about the beauty of my face and I barely even glanced at the Reapers who stood congregated to watch my trial on a balcony above the wide space.

"You must exert control over your element and prove-"

"Stop talking," I growled, not caring that it was a Reaper I spoke to, or what their fucking rules on what I was supposed to do with my newfound power might be.

I placed my feet firmly in the heart of the arena, barely glancing at the targets and barriers which had been placed all around me in order to test my strength. This power needed an outlet and I was desperate to sate that need.

The stone doors banged shut behind me and I let it all tear from me at once.

A storm of air exploded from me, Fae crying out from their positions on the balcony above the arena as every target, every barrier and even great chunks of the arena walls were ripped apart in the ensuing blast.

A tornado tore from me, lashing my hair against my face while I remained firm in the eye of the storm, the shattered remains of everything in the arena now swirling around me in a chaos of unbridled power. It was brutal, raw and wild, everything I was at my core, and I let it tear from me in an endless torrent of pure power until I had nothing else left to give.

I panted heavily, my hands on my thighs as I peered up at the Reapers who stood clustered above me on a balcony, protected from my outburst by an air shield which itself had cracked, great spiderwebs of damage making their features unfocused as I looked out between tangled strands of pale pink hair.

I blinked in surprise as I found another face among them. Prince Dragor's pale eyes were bright with a possessive fervour that made my heart race powerfully.

"You have been deemed a worthy warrior for the great and noble kingdom of air," one of the Reapers announced, his gaze roaming over the shattered remains of the targets that had been laid out in the arena. "You have placed. Welcome to Never Keep."

I sank into an imitation of a curtsy which was too full of arrogance to really be considered respectful, my arms swinging wide to pull out the sides of my imaginary skirt.

Prince Dragor watched me with a dark thrill in his eyes which caused me to grin at my boots before I schooled my features and straightened again.

I turned and headed from the arena, my legs trembling slightly with exertion and a dull ache left in my chest somewhere close to the thumping pulse of my heart where I was certain my magic should reside.

I frowned at the strange new feeling, lamenting the loss of my new power and trying to focus on what I needed to regain it. Every Order of Fae recharged their magic in differing ways; Nemean Lions had to lay in the sun, Sphinxes needed to read, Vampires, somewhat obviously, had to drink the blood of others to steal the magic they required. Then there were Werewolves who had to run beneath the moon, or Pegasuses who had to fly through the clouds. Standard magical recharging actions for standard Orders, but I was something uncommon.

My power was subtle, my gifts both physical and intrinsic and to recharge I needed to embrace the desires of those around me so I could syphon their magic directly from them and into myself. Yes, it could be sexual which was the assumption made of my kind - mostly due to the obvious physical attributes we claimed. Our startlingly attractive appearance, the unnatural, attention-grabbing colour of our hair, the allure which rolled from us so easily and encouraged many Fae to attempt to gain our favour.

But when I was sixteen, my Sage Moya, the Oracle who had deigned to train me in the ways of blood magic and the control of Ether, had gifted me a book. The diary was old and damaged in places, but it had been written by a Succubus who had dedicated her life to unfurling the mysteries of our kind. The secrets I had uncovered within those tattered pages were ones I kept so close to my heart that I had never even shared them with Dalia and Moraine.

Sexual desire was the least of what I could obtain from those who fell under the sway of my allure. I could see the shape of their truest wants and desires, be it wealth or glory, greed or power, love or lust. I could sway those desires too with enough will and time to work on them. I could twist them into something darker, more desperate, or simply more inviting. And if I helped them to act on any part of those wants then I could drain the magic right from their bones and steal it for my own power.

So in war, I could urge my enemies to hunger for my death even more than they did on first sight, stealing their magic from them with every strike they made at me, powering myself while weakening them. And now that my elemental magic was unlocked, I would be free to exploit that power to my fullest capabilities at last.

There was more to what I was, more which I knew I would be able to unravel and unlock with my air magic at my fingertips and I was anxious to explore every piece of it.

Prince Dragor stepped out in front of me and I almost flinched, glancing at the staircase that had been carved into the rear of the arena, no doubt giving access to the platform where he had observed my assessment.

"This is Andol," he said, no word of praise on my achievement, just a curt gesture towards the Reaper who had followed him down the stairs. "He has graciously agreed to repair the damage to your face."

I bit my tongue on the retort I wanted to give, not caring one lick about the wound to my face or the scar it would likely leave. This was intended as a gift. Or at least I might have seen it that way before last night.

I schooled my expression, dropping to my knees before the Reaper and murmuring some bullshit about being unworthy for such an accolade.

"Hush, keen warrior, your praises should be directed to the stars. I am merely their vessel," he murmured, his paunchy hand cupping my cheek, perspiration making his palm clammy.

He wasn't gentle, pain flaring through the wound as his fingers probed at it, but I remained unmoving, uncertain what to expect from this sacred magic. The secrets of true healing were one of the most closely-guarded gifts that the stars had bestowed upon the Reapers. They could perform feats of magic so powerful that they could return a Fae from the gates of death itself, mending their body entirely and remaking them no matter how grave the wound or illness. It defied all except the power of the stars, and I swallowed thickly as a tingle of magic began to wash against my skin.

It felt as though a thread had formed between me and the Reaper who held me, his magic pressing into me invasively, probing around inside my own as though taking account of my soul itself.

My skin buzzed with magic but so did patches on my arms, legs, back and stomach, every piece of me which held a scar earned in battle or punishment blazed with the simmering heat of his power. I gasped as it rushed through me, every dull ache of a long-healed wound, every mark of stupidity and bravery alike simply wiped away as if my entire body was a slate now prepared for a new beginning.

I blinked up at the Reaper wordlessly as he withdrew his hand, my own fingers travelling over the perfect smoothness of my cheek in wonder as I found the injury healed.

"Praise to the stars," I breathed, the words never having felt so pious on my lips before. Because surely that was the power of the heavens themselves and nothing less. It was…miraculous. No story told of it could ever encompass the feeling of it rushing through my veins.

"Praise to those who tread their destined path," the Reaper replied, his hand landing on Dragor's shoulder, squeezing tightly as they exchanged a loaded look.

I barely stifled my gasp as Dragor dropped to his knees in deference to the Reaper, bowing his head and murmuring his own words of worship too.

The Reaper headed back up the stairs and I stilled as the prince curled his hand around my bicep, tugging me to my feet.

"I will see you into Never Keep," he said roughly, taking the pack I had placed into the chute before my Combat Trial from the ground behind him and holding it in his fist. "And as we travel, you will recall your vow to me. You will remember that wall which now surrounds you."

I looked at his sharp profile and he turned to face me, his arm moving to encircle my waist.

"I remember," I said, my gut lurching as he shot us into the sky with his air magic.

The isle which held Helle Fort shrank beneath us and I couldn't help but stare down at it from the dizzying height before Dragor directed us away from it, heading further north over turbulent, iron-grey seas.

Night had fully fallen and the clouds were thick but the chill in my bones wasn't due to the frigid wind. Dragor's fingers dug into my waist, his mouth dropping to my ear, his lips brushing against the soft flesh and making me shiver as he inhaled deeply.

"What a dark and forbidding creature you are, my Sky Witch," he breathed where only the wind could hear us and, despite myself, I turned to look into his icy eyes.

"I thought…" I began then stopped because what was I going to say? I thought you were angry? Jealous? Terrifying? Done with me?

Did any of that make sense? Had the unease and anxiety which had kept me from sleep last night held any real basis?

"That is where you were mistaken." Dragor clasped my jaw in his grip and turned my head so that I could look out over the sprawling isle which housed Never Keep and my eyes widened as I took in the enormous structure.

Walls built of black, volcanic rock rose up above the sheer edge of the cliff face, the turrets crowning them in jagged, unwelcoming peaks and towers which glared out over the roiling sea.

A port lay at the foot of the cliffs leading to a cove with black sand marking the beach, a sheer stairway cutting back and forth along a narrow cliff path seeming to be the only way to access it.

At the apex of the stairs was a jutting ledge of stone before a pair of iron gates big enough to admit a Dragon shifter – though no Dragons remained in The Waning Lands to test such a theory.

The keep itself was shaped like a jagged X, the four long structures known as the vaults all spreading out away from the central area which housed the common grounds where Fae from every land would be forced to cohabit for instructions in wielding the cardinal magics and praising the stars in the Astral Sanctuary.

I stared over the rugged rooftops, the black stone well-weathered from the tempestuous climate this far north and out to sea. A central triangular courtyard lay open at the heart of each of the vaults and I caught glimpses of effigies and idols, the symbolism in every elemental sector a brazen announcement of pride in the lands which each one represented.

Dragor released his hold on his air magic and we plummeted from the sky, my pulse ticking with adrenaline as the rough pier of stone before the iron gates sped closer. Never Keep looked like the broken tooth of some immense beast from above, the open gates its wide jaws, ready to swallow me whole.

The prince jerked us to a halt before letting our feet touch down on the stone, making me the first of this year's conscripts to arrive at Never Keep and take up my place as a neophyte within its walls.

Dragor gave the iron Night Gate, carved with the phases of the moon, a sweeping glance then turned to me, grasping my hair in his fist and arcing my neck to make me look at nothing but him.

"You will be the best," he growled, his eyes two chips of ice, the command rough with possession.

"I already am," I replied with a sneer.

Dragor tightened his grip on my hair to the point of pain, leaning in to speak against my mouth.

"Your arrogance will be your downfall," he swore, the words ringing with a sense of prophecy to them which stilled the blood in my veins before his mouth took possession of mine.

The kiss was a brand against my lips, a mark of his villainy which stained me to my soul and reminded me of my place in this world, at his utter beck and call.

I stumbled as he released me, his presence gone in a rush of wind which sent my hair into a spiral and revealed his absence in its wake.

I turned from the temptation to hunt the skies for him, picking up my pack from where he'd dropped it on the ground then I placed my hand upon the hilt of my sword as I strode through the iron gates, determined to exceed all expectations, including my own.