Betrayal Foretold: Descended of Dragons, Book 3 (15 page)

“I thought you could show me some of the island today,” Ewan suggested. “And I brought you lunch. From Nick’s.”

“Oh, I’ve missed his pizza. Let’s eat now; there’s something I have to tell you.”

* * *

E
wan’s reaction
to my request was exactly the one I’d anticipated. He balked, his puffed chest sending his spine straight with righteous indignation. “I will
not
bring Rowan Gresham here. To you. Why the hell would I ever do that? You talked about risking the refugees living in Pearl. Bringing Gresham here is a terrible idea! My gods, Stella, think this through.”

“It’s not my plan, it’s Abia’s. I have serious concerns, too. I mean, in his position as director of defense he could, theoretically, invade Pearl by sea. If they could ever find it. Gaspare’s got the place so tightly warded I doubt they could.”

Ewan put a palm to his forehead. “Of course you don’t know. You’ve been gone. Gresham was fired.”

“Fired? By whom?”

Ewan’s laugh was throaty, ironic. “By Gaspare.”

“Nooooo.”

“Oh, yes. That night in the cabin, the night you…left.” Ewan swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “Gresham disputed Gaspare publicly that night. Stood in his way when he thought Gaspare would execute you. After that, Gaspare was forced to fire him for insubordination. Replaced him with somebody I’ve never heard of.”

“Wow. Poor Gresham. I wonder what he’s doing now.” Ewan’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t reply. “Well, that’s good in a way. It certainly eliminates some of the risk. Of course, Abia says it’s worth any risk.”

“What is?” Ewan’s question was pointed. He expected an answer if we were to go any further. So I told him.

* * *

“
G
resham may not even agree
to it, Ewan. This may all be for naught.”

“Yeah right,” he said doubtfully. “The moment I tell him it’s you I’m taking him to, even tracing won’t be fast enough.”

I rolled my eyes. “Good luck.”

Ewan nodded, pressed his warm lips to mine. “Back soon.”

I traced to Abia to let her know the plan was in place. I found her resting against the rocky outcropping from my recent vision. She held her buoy and net just as she did then, and that chill-raising, foreboding sense of
deja vu
crept over every inch of my skin.

“Abia?” I called hesitantly.

“Back so soon? Surely two new lovebirds aren’t separating this quickly.”

“Oh. You said getting Gresham here was urgent. I sent Ewan for him.”

“Ah. Well, it’s begun then, hasn’t it? We’ll see what fate holds for our kind now.”

“How do we know if your theory is right? What now?”

“Now we test it, if he’ll agree. It’s going to take every bit of knowledge I’ve gained over the years, not to mention innate power. But if I’m right. Ooooh, if I’m right.” Abia shook her head at the enormous implications of her discovery. “We do have something very important on our side, though, that can’t be overlooked.”

“What’s that?”

“Love and light, baby.” Her gentle smile warmed my soul. “Love and light.”

* * *

I
had been waiting less
than five minutes when Ewan and Gresham arrived back at the waterfall. Neither of them were pleased with their circumstances, that much was clear. Ewan’s low rumble was a warning to Gresham, which he overtly ignored.

Gresham’s posture was tense, hostile, but his eyes noticeably softened when he saw me. He closed them and breathed deeply before he spoke.

“I thought you were dead.” Gresham’s tone betrayed no emotion.

“Nope.”

He nodded, his face an inscrutable mask. “Where are we? This one,” he leaned his head toward Ewan, “traced me; said I’d not been here.”

“We’re on the island of Topaz.”

“Where Abia Pike lives?” he asked, leaning forward as if he hadn’t heard right.

“Y—yes,” I stuttered. “You’ve heard of her?”

“She’s Gaspare’s mother. Your grandmother.”

My arms flew up in disbelief. “And you were going to tell me this when?”

Gresham was silent, his mouth squeezed into a tight line.

“Have you ever been here? To Topaz?”

He jerked his head to the side in one quick movement. He hadn’t.

“And Pearl? Did you know about Pearl?”

No answer. No negation, either.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said. “Did you know Gaspare brought hundreds of refugees here during the Steward Massacre and the years of battles that followed?”

“Yes. I…I helped him.”

I gritted my teeth to keep my cool.
So many secrets
.

“I should have thought to look here,” he said, then looked up sharply, his gaze flying to Ewan. “Has he known you were here, alive, the entire time?”

“No,” I said in a hoarse whisper.

“And he’s here now because?” Gresham had abandoned his attempt at concealing his emotions. Anger shot from his every pore. He vibrated with it.

I opened my mouth, but Ewan’s answer preceded mine. “Because we’re together. Because she’s mine.”

I huffed an impatient breath at Ewan’s machismo. He had disliked Gresham from the beginning. He’d hated that Gresham and I were together. Very irrationally, I thought. Ewan and I had had no ties; we barely knew each other then.

Ewan’s gaze whipped toward Gresham the instant before he was violently tackled. Gresham took him to the ground, landing two solid punches to Ewan’s face before he managed to free himself.

“Stop it. Stop it!” I screamed, but the two were far too embroiled in their vicious tussle to hear me.

Ewan ran at Gresham, hammering a fist into his stomach. When Gresham’s head flew up for air, Ewan used the advantage to land a punch right across his cheekbone.

Gresham was dazed for a moment, but then the air became thick with the dark bulk of his magic. He was going to change. I looked to Ewan, who’d already begun the process, too.

“For God’s sake, you two. Stop this.”

Ewan’s only form was a wolf, as Gresham well knew. As soon as Ewan flashed into his monstrous wolf, Gresham matched forms and the two stood snarling and slavering nose to nose. Their low growls sent shivers up my spine and I took a step back. The dueling roars were deafening and any moment they would become one giant snarling ball of hair and claws and teeth. And blood.

There was no stopping them. This fight had been a long time coming, though it was pointless. I was not the spoils of war. The winner wouldn’t drag me off to his cave by the hair. I chose Ewan over Gresham. Did he have to rub that in Gresham’s face? No. Was it Gresham’s place to quiz me about the details of my love life? Also no. Should Gresham accept reality and stop antagonizing Ewan? Yes.

When the savage snarls grew even louder, when the first spray of blood flew across the toe of my newly-acquired wedges, when it was obvious they wouldn’t stop until someone was unconscious, that was my limit. Neither of them noticed when I stepped into the trees to remove my clothes and shoes.

The smell of burning hair is like nothing else. The hideous stench takes up residence in your nose, and evicting it is nearly impossible. I hadn’t thought of that before I scorched the two wolves, and stood snorting, trying to forcefully eject the smell from my wide nostrils.

My plan worked, though. Ewan and Rowan howled and whined like they were burning alive…which I suppose they were. When they finally recovered the good sense they’d abandoned for a brawl, the two dove into the water. They emerged sputtering and indignant, but no longer intent on tearing one another’s throat out.

“That was just cruel,” Ewan complained as he dragged himself through the shallow water. I had reverted to my natural form and found my clothes while the two had scurried into the water.

“Are you two finished with this nonsense?” I asked imperially from the bank. “Is it settled?”

“We were settling it our own way. You shouldn’t have interfered,” Ewan said gruffly and pushed wet hair back from his face.

“Yeah,” Gresham echoed. “Setting us on fire—you went too far.”

“Oh, so now you two are on the same side? Against me? Well, at least you’ve found something to agree on. Now get dressed. Abia’s waiting.”

Gresham muttered something beneath his breath and lifted onto the bank, back muscles flexing as he emerged from the water. I looked away.

“
R
owan Gresham
,” Abia approached him slowly, as if she feared scaring him away. “I’d know those amber eyes anywhere.” She shook her head and pursed her lips.

“I’m sorry. Have we met?” Gresham shaded his eyes from the afternoon sun outside Abia’s hut-like cabin.

“No” she replied. “I knew your father. We were childhood friends.”

“That fact doesn’t exactly recommend you to me.”

“He was different then,” she said sadly. “He…he changed over time.”

Gresham didn’t respond.

“Thank you for coming,” Abia said in an obvious attempt to regain his attention. “I’m sure this is all very odd.”

“Mph,” he grunted. “Why have you asked me here? What’s so important? Where’s Gaspare?”

“We’ll leave Gaspare out of this for now. Until I know for sure.”

“Know what?” Gresham huffed an impatient breath.

“Would you like some tea?” Abia asked pleasantly. “I’d like to tell you a story.”

As Abia led Gresham inside, Ewan held my hand to keep me out.

“What’s up?”

“Are you all right here?” Ewan shifted nervously and eyed Gresham inside the house. “I’ll stay. I should stay.”

“What are you talking about? Do you need to leave?”

Ewan shook his head impatiently. “Today’s the first day of classes for the new year. I tried to withdraw, but Gaspare made me promise to attend The Root as if nothing had happened.”

“First day? Oh, sophos year.” The pang of regret, the twinge of jealousy that I was no longer a student stung. I loved The Root. Learning about myself and my new world had given me purpose, fulfillment. I desperately missed the campus and my friends. The Root was the first place I’d ever felt at home.

Ewan noticed the dark turn of my mood and lifted my face with a tender touch. “Hey,” he searched my gaze. “I want to be here. With you.”

“I know,” I nodded to reassure him. “I know. I just miss it is all. I miss Timbra and big ole Boone. I miss carefree days and girl time and even Craft class.”

“It doesn’t matter if I miss the first day. Hell, I’ve been such a wreck people might be surprised if I
was
there.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again.

Ewan pulled me into him and held me close. He rested his chin on the top of my head and I felt his words as I heard them. “We’re together now. That’s all that matters.”

I leaned back to look into his dark eyes, which were in a close race with his mouth for my favorite thing about him. “And I want to keep it that way. Gaspare’s right. Until we get all this figured out, you should go to class. Don’t give anyone a reason to suspect anything.”

He nodded and squeezed me one last time. “I’ll come back tonight.” He motioned toward the house, toward Gresham. “Keep your guard up around him. I don’t trust him around you for a minute.”

“But you trust me. Right?”

“I do,” he said with gravity.

* * *

“
W
here’s Ewan
?” Gresham looked completely out of place with his big body folded around Abia’s small table.

“Went back to Radix. First day of the new school year. Gaspare’s made him swear to maintain the facade he doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Which you’ll have to do, too, Rowan.” Abia snapped. “I’m taking a huge risk bringing you here. If you want to have a role in this, you must keep quiet about it until we’re through. Do you understand? Not a soul.”

“I understand your statement, Ms. Pike, but not the motivation behind it. Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

“It was Stella’s idea, really,” she began. “‘Maybe he used someone else’s blood,’ she said. Not once had that thought ever crossed my mind. Perhaps it crossed no one’s. Talbot was such a dictator. Solitary. He did everything with such single-minded intent no one ever expected him to depend on someone else.”

“Wait,” Gresham said, holding up his hands. “What are you saying? Depend on who? For what?”

“On you. Your blood. To prevent children born of inter-special couples.”

Gresham leaned back in the tiny wooden chair, the force of his weight causing it to creak and bow.

He didn’t respond right away. His forehead wrinkled as he thought, and he tapped an anxious foot.

“What does my blood, or my father, have to do with anything, especially children?”

Abia told Gresham her story. She recounted how three thousand years of deceit had changed the course of history. When she told him Thayer was once populated with couples of varying species, and that the children born of those unions were omnies, his mouth fell open and didn’t close until she finished.

“I knew he was evil,” Gresham said. “After I meet Gaspare and Gabrio, after learning other omnies existed, I questioned him. He told me he’d eliminated any threats to our future rule. Said he’d sabotaged, eliminated many omni families. That was bad enough. He did
not
tell me about the children.”

Abia nodded, her chin firm and serious. “You know perhaps better than anyone what he was capable of, Rowan. You saw.”

The wooden chair fell to the floor as he stood. “Yes, I saw,” he said stiffly. “I saw much. Too much.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, and when he pulled them away, his eyes were bloodshot, wild.

Abia approached with caution, as if she was dealing with a frightened fawn. She tentatively moved her hand to his arm. “Do you…do you remember him taking or using your blood for anything? A ward, maybe?”

“I’ve tried to forget,” he said and turned from us. His back rose and fell with each labored breath. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight with emotion. “He used me for a great many things as a child.” Gresham began to pace the floor of Abia’s living area, his face still averted from us.

“I thought he hung the moon,” he said. “Hell, I thought he told the sun when it could set. Sometimes I thought he loved me, but most days his disdain for me was clear. I learned to gauge his moods, like an abused dog or a battered wife. He called me weak, inferior, worthless…but I was just a child. That I was
his
child was the only reason I was allowed near him at all. As I grew older, it meant everything to me to show him I wasn’t weak. To prove my worth as the son of such a powerful ruler. I mimicked him, both in bravado and cruelty. Sometimes I felt like I was rooted in darkness, like I responded better to soil than to sunlight. He didn’t force me to do the horrific things I did. I wanted to do them, to draw his notice, to please him.”

Gresham cleared his throat and squeezed his temples. “Those were dark times.” When he looked up to find my gaze, the anguish in his eyes shattered my heart, and pity poured from it, running along the floor to his feet. I started toward him, but he held out his hand.

“Let me finish.”

I nodded and looked to Abia, who sat unmoving, anticipating the rest of his story.

“When I came of an age to attend Radix I jumped at the chance. I considered it my own world to conquer, to rule, to show Talbot I was worthy.”

Gresham’s light laugh was incongruent with his pained face. “But then I met Gaspare Shaw and his brother—your father. They were truly happy. And honorable. And in their world, I found myself, my soul.

“When we lost Gabrio, we relied more than ever on one another. We’ve been a team ever since. I found a lifelong friend and a leader who deserved to be followed, and have been happy to follow his lead. Honored.”

He shook his head and turned to Abia. “I know Gaspare concealed Stella’s presence here from me, but I will not—cannot—keep a secret from him.”

“Oh, but you must,” Abia pleaded. “You must. Just for a little while. It will break his heart if he learns of my theory and it’s unfounded. And poor Emelie. No. No, you must not tell him. Think of what it would mean to him if we’re wrong.”

Gresham turned in my direction, but he didn’t see me. He was lost in thought. Finally, he found Abia and nodded once.

“I remember Talbot using my blood for wards. Though I’ve blocked most of that past from my mind, I was never able to rid myself of a particularly traumatic memory. Upon my tenth birthday there was a celebration in my honor with food and wine and dancing. At the end of the night, my father took me the lookout of the castle, my childhood home. He held me in front of him at the window, his words slurred with drink. ‘Do you see this land?’ he said. ‘It is ours. We are Greshams. We are omni. Our rule is absolute. It is eternal.’

“Of course, I had no idea what he meant. But he and his top advisor, that evil kraken, Archer, pulled me to a table and cut my palm. It was deep and it hurt, but not nearly as badly as when they began the ceremony. The curse they created with my blood was so dark, so powerful, it pulled the consciousness from my body. I collapsed and woke the next day in my own bed. When I asked what they’d done, my father would only say he’d ensured the Greshams’ eternal rule and legacy.”

“But, that doesn’t add up,” I said. “If Talbot stopped the creation of omnies three thousand years ago, he couldn’t have used your blood to do it. You weren’t alive then.”

“Right,” he agreed. “I can only assume he added my life force to his already in place that day.”

“So, when he died, the curse didn’t collapse because you were still living. I see.”

“That’s the theory, anyway,” Abia said. “Only one way to know, and that’s to test it.”

“I may have something that will help us do it,” Gresham said, a determined light filling his eyes. “My father kept a grimoire.”

“A wha—” I said at the same time Abia yelped, “Why the hell didn’t you say something?”

I looked between the two of them as she shook him by the arm. “What are you waiting for? Go get it.”

Gresham bowed—actually bowed—and left the house without another word.

* * *

“
Y
es
, but what
is
it?” I asked again, as Abia and Gresham stood over the ancient leather-bound tome. They stood back from the book, not touching it, as if they were afraid it would grow teeth and bite.

“It’s a journal, a record-keeping of spells and wards. A recipe book for magic, so to speak.” Abia’s hands shook with excitement as she reached toward the worn, brown cover.

“Do you think what you’re looking for is there?” I asked. “Do you really think he’d write down something so important?”

“I don’t know,” Gresham said. “But he tried to destroy the grimoire before he died. As Gaspare and I forced our way into his room, he threw it into the fire and chanted like the devil himself was after him.” Gresham absently rubbed his arms, which had broken into goosebumps as he recalled the memory. “There’s something in there he never wanted found. And likely, there are a great many things he’d prefer left uncovered. That man was evil to his core, and no one knows better than me.”

“Talbot was always a little dark,” said Abia gently. “He began experimenting with dark magic when we were young. ‘There’s so much raw power left untapped,’ he once told me. Everyone warned him against tinkering with a dark force. He knew the risks, he knew the flames of dark power could engulf him, but once he experienced its unmatched strength, he played with fire anyway. Over the centuries, he became a master. And ever more reclusive and evil.”

Gresham approached the grimoire slowly. He extended and drew back his hand before he said, “Like a Band-Aid,” and flipped the cover open wide.

“You act as if you’ve never read it,” Abia sounded amused.

“I haven’t. I’ve no desire to know more of the evil that man cultivated. I thought to destroy it centuries ago, and many times since. But anything Talbot wanted destroyed must have a purpose.” He set his jaw and nodded. “And here we are.”

The three of us gathered around the book, me in the middle. Being so near Gresham was unnerving and, I was pleased to discover, unwelcome. I wiggled to gain a little space, and then affixed my attention firmly on the grimoire.

“How will we know which one it is?” I whispered as Abia flipped through the pages of the soft parchment. “There must be hundreds of entries.”

“My guess,” Abia said, her lips pursed in concentration, “is it’s this one.” She tapped a page-long entry of symbols and measurements in a language I couldn’t even begin to understand.