Their Fireheart

Chapter Forty Four

Perrington.

The very same man who had manhandled me in Endovier, who had lived in this very castle for decades. The man who had overseen the trials to become the King's Champion - and had never known, whether by some stroke of luck or fate or my ancestor's own protection, that I was here. I had never known, either - never detected it on him.

The king nodded, his eyes now fixed on the slim chain peeking out of the neck of my tunic. "That amulet around your neck - whatever it is - I may not know exactly what kind of power it possesses, but I know it's enough to seal him back in the crypt."

The look on his face when I'd revealed it ... He'd been seeing a tool not of destruction, but of salvation. And his words in the throne room ... They were a warning, not a threat.

"How has he been inside Perrington all this time and no one noticed?" I asked.

Surely there had to have been some sort of sign. Even before I'd known about the valg, there had to have been something, anything, that I should have sensed.

"He can hide inside a body like a snail in its shell. But cloaking his presence also stifles his own abilities to scent others - like you. And now you're back - all the players in the unfinished game that's lasted for centuries. The Galathynius line - and the Havilliard, which he has hated so fiercely all this time. Why he targeted my family, and yours," the king croaked out.

Dorian's line - because of Elena and Gavin, and the victory they wrenched from him. My line - because of their role in the valg's failure in the very beginning, back when Eirlea and Prythian were one. Or - if Erawan could hear the whispers of the gods - because of me. Because of the role I was destined to fulfill.

Was that it? Was it my fault that my kingdom, my family ...

The railings shadows stretched closer, reaching for my leg in a comforting caress.

"You butchered my kingdom for him," I managed to rasp. That night my parents died, there had been that smell in the room ... That rancid, foul scent that I now knew could only be the valg. "You slaughtered millions."

The king flinched, as though my accusation inflicted physical pain.

The king braced a hand on the bridge, as if to keep from collapsing under the weight of the shame now coating his words. "I tried to stop it. They could find those like you based on your magic alone, and wanted the strongest of you for themselves. And when my own son was born with the most powerful magic that had manifested in the Havilliard line in centuries ..." His craggy features crumbled as he again addressed Dorian, eyes shining with emotion. "You were so strong - so precious. I couldn't let them take you. I couldn't. I wrested control away for just long enough."

"To do what," Dorian asked hoarsely.

My heart broke for man and son, despite his multitude of crimes. I glanced at the smoke wafting toward the river far beyond, billowing from the wreckage that was once a monstrous clocktower.

"To order the towers built," I said softly, "and use that spell to banish magic."

Magic that had now been freed ... once again allowing the valg to sniff out every magic wielder in Erilea. Not that they hadn't devised other methods of discovering them when that ability had been stifled. I could only hope that having access to their powers gave the magical among us a fighting chance against the demons.

The king gasped a shuddering breath, nodding jerkily. "But he didn't know how I'd done it. He thought the magic vanished as punishment from our gods and knew nothing of why the towers were built. All this time I used my strength to keep the knowledge of it away from him - from them. It took all of it - so I could not fight the demon, stop it when ... when it did those things. All I could do was keep that knowledge safe. To try and protect the magic, and my son."