Chapter Eight

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A/N: I got some messages that a few of you were confused, and so this chapter is for you. It is a pretty revealing chapter, as well as a recap of the veil and Charlotte's importance in it all. It's a lot of information, but I hope this puts the story back on track for you :) It's also really important on its own because of what is revealed. I wonder how many of you saw this coming... Enjoy!!

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Ivan’s door crashed open, something that had become a regular occurrence since arriving in Tarshish.  And like those many other times, Kala’el stalked into the room, the air of violence preceeding him. But whereas others usually fled or trembled in his presence, Ivan remained sitting at his desk undisturned, gazing absently over a book of potions.

Kala’el raised a stiff hand and waved his guards away.

That's different, Ivan mused with a faint smirk as he observed Kala’el from over his book. He’d normally just vaporize or dissolve them into shards of ice.

The door clicked quietly. Instantly, Kala’el spun with all his supressed fury, and the papers on Ivan’s desk exploded, whisked off into the whirlwind of Kala’el’s swift move.  Through the veil of falling papers, what Ivan saw in Kala’el’s eyes withered what remained of his smile. Kala’el’s usual haughtiness was replaced by an amalgamation of frantic fear and anger. His crystal blue eyes were wide as they flicked unsettledly across the room, watching the papers float to the ground like ink- stained snowflakes. When the last snowflake landed, Kala’el set off on a silent trek. He paced in a perfect circle, silent, almost as if rehearsed. The silent taps of his footfalls filled the awkward void like a tempo, the sound of his whooshing cape between the soft crackles of the fire his song.

From his desk, Ivan noted the slight treble of Kala’el’s hands. He closed his book slowly and set it aside, no longer able to deny that something was very wrong. 

Kala’el paused. “If I didn’t need you to locate Charlotte, I swear I would kill you this moment,” he hissed, clenching his fists. He moved closer to Ivan’s desk and ground his fists against the marble in black fury.  “I would seep ice slowly into your veins until you cracked from the inside out.”

Ivan watched Kala’el through narrowed his eyes. Then he smirked and sat forward. “Fire is my mother element, Kala’el. I doubt ice would be the way to kill me, though you can try if you wish,” Ivan said darkly and  rolled up his sleeve, holding his arm out to a glaring Kala’el.

For a moment, Kala’el stared down at the black Dine tattoos wrapped around Ivan’s pale arms, his eyes considering the challenge. He shook his head curiously, and after an added minute, his face splintered into a dry, inhuman smile. He pushed back and walked to the wall behind Ivan’s desk, where a yellowed canvas map of all the Fae lands encompassed the wall.

Ivan swiveled in his chair and watched Kala’el trail a finger wistfully along the frayed edges of the map, working his fingers upward toward the various Seelie and Unseelie territories. Kala’el reached down and gathered a handful of small flag pins used during war to demarcate areas of trouble. One by one, he placed them in various Seelie and Unseelie territories. Ivan watched the ceremony dubiously, but didn’t say a word.

Once the last pin was inserted, Kala’el stepped back and admired his work, a solemn expression marking the pale planes of his face. “Do you know what these places are?”

Ivan stood and leaned on the edge of his desk, wholly uninterested. “Ah, I see now. You’ve come to boast, yet again, about the areas you plan to occupy first once you begin your rule? Though I must say, it’s a bit ambitious of you. You have flags all over the Unseelie lands. You’re so sure you’ll be able to kill Xanthus before he kills you? I don’t know. My money is on Xanthus… and not because he’s my common’s father.”

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