Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (56 page)

But despite the hours I put in this morning, the workout hadn’t done what I wanted it to.

Unlike minor annoyances or everyday irritations, the things rooted deep couldn’t be dripped away through sweat, or burned away through metabolism.

The click of the front door drifted up. Puzzled, I headed downstairs.

Someone had arrived early. The meeting wouldn’t start for another ten minutes.

Nexa perched on the sofa, her silver hair shining against the beige upholstery.
 

A lit cigarette dangled between her fingers. She was opening a metal flask, imprinted with the image of a shirtless lead singer in a boy band.

It was the first time she’d ever visited and her tiny form seemed oddly out of place.

“Did you get lost?” I asked wryly. “Thought you didn’t want to come.”

The exact words in her note were that she was too busy binge-watching a new show to attend.

Sharp, periwinkle eyes focused on me.
 

“I never lose my way, dear. I’m an Empath.”

My chest squeezed.

It was too much.

The weight of prophecy and blood, of history, future, and the inescapable truth smashed into me.

I lurched forward.

Thin arms, surprisingly strong, circled and pulled me down beside her, enveloping me in a comforting cloud of cigarettes and alcohol.

My entire body shook and I hated it.

“I am sorry, Kendra,” she said tightly.
 

For a few long seconds, I allowed the tidal wave of grief to run its course.
 

The shaking eased.

I pulled away. “It was your family.”

“Yes.” She took another drag on her cigarette and exhaled. “We have always been tasked with protecting the Irisavies. Genevieves have done so in some form or another over the years, even if they remain unaware of it. There is a pull, an inevitable connection. Our magic has always been close: Empath, Projection, Clairvoyance. Complementary reflections.”

I felt something. There was something about you.

Jeeves and Julian’s words haunted me. I should’ve felt relieved, overjoyed that they were so important to the Irisavies.
 

Jeeves had affected the lives of Rhian, Marcella, and Naida. He’d watched me grow up over the years. And without Julian, I wouldn’t be a chevalier.

But all I felt was sadness. Like me, they’d been sucked into something they knew nothing of, part of a greater design none of us could control. Given what demillirs already felt within our world, I would’ve given anything to release them from that.

“What did the prophecy mean when it said I had to —“

 
A tingle, a shock of magic exactly like I’d felt with Brigette and Nexa, buzzed beneath my skin.

Pain sliced through me like a fine-edged blade. Magic clamped my lungs, my flesh prickling as if a thousand needles ran over it at once.

I gasped.

Nexa gripped my arm hard. “You feel it?”

It took a moment for the ache to subside.

I let out a shaky breath. “What was —“

“Magic binds you, just as it does me.” She shook her head and muttered under her breath. “Unexpected.”

I remembered the tendril of magic rolling off the prophecy’s page and burrowing under my skin.

“It prevents me from talking about it.”

“From even
thinking
about talking about it,” Nexa corrected.

Gingerly, I tested it. I pictured opening my mouth and saying, “It was the first prophecy.”

The result was immediate. Heat singed my chest, a hot poker stabbing my insides.

An odd sensation. The magic came from within me, but wasn’t my own.

“What is it?”

It wasn’t a Virtue, or any kind of ondine magic I’d encountered before.
 

Nexa put out her cigarette directly on the coffee table.

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Never mind.

“Old magic.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “A silencing spell first used when ondines came on land. It was meant to prevent us from sharing with humans the truth about our magic and origins. The pain trained us to hide, to never reveal our world to others. And as we internalized this secret, the magic diminished, retreating into our cells and remaining latent until everyone simply forgot it existed.”

Like a Pavlovian experiment. Train us to keep our mouths shut for fear of getting magically electrocuted.

“But the imprint of that immortal magic remains within our bodies and continues to be passed down. It reawakened when you…,” she gestured, “did what you needed to do.”

Immortal magic wasn’t like ours. In the twenty-fours hours since the magic sank into me, the itchiness had grown worse. The skin on my arms were red from scratching.

Ian’s scabs, the result of picking at his own skin countless times, flashed before me.

“It will only get worse.” Nexa said quietly. “Magic will continue to consume you until you finish it.”

By making my choice and writing the end of the prophecy in the book.

Like the Shadow’s undiluted blood, the power of this magic exacted a cost. It was too powerful for our mortal bodies to contain, too raw and potent.

For the Shadow, the cost was to relive you worst nightmare until you could exorcise it. For this binding magic, it was until I submitted to my mortality and made a choice.

Once I recorded my words, there would be no turning back.
 

“Once I choose, will it disappear?”

She shook her head. “The effects will likely ease, but the spell will continue binding you to silence.”

Like my mother. She’d written two of the prophecy’s stanzas but had been bound by silence to the end.

A knock sounded at the door. Julian stepped through, his face refreshed and calm.
 

He motioned to his grandmother. “Thought you were catching up on your show today.”

She drank from her flask and swallowed. “Real life is always much more interesting, dear.”

The others arrived in quick succession: Tristan, Jeeves, Gabe, and Catrin. My allies and family, those who cared about me and whom I cared about.
 

I suddenly imagined every one of them lying in a pool of blood, my dagger above them.

I shuttered my expression and took the chair across from the sofa. I couldn’t afford to think that way.
 

Tristan sat beside Nexa, his body relaxed, jaw set. He’d heard the tension in my voice when I called him over.

He shot me a questioning look. I gave him a cool smile. His expression turned grim.

Last to arrive was Patrice. She stepped inside and nervously assessed the room’s occupants.

She managed to give Jeeves a small smile. Wary eyes studied her. She looked away first.

Julian balanced on the arm of a chair near the fireplace. His face had shut down the moment his mother walked in.

Silent, Patrice took the only open seat beside Gabe.

Catrin elegantly crossed her legs. “What’s going on, Kendra?”

I took a deep breath. “I have information on how to end this war.”

An audible intake of breath raced around the room. Tristan’s face turned to stone.

“How?” Gabe asked.

I looked at Nexa. I wasn’t sure how far I could go before the spell kicked in. If I even managed to communicate a few ideas, it could help.

She nodded. I had to try.

“The answer was in the fi—“

Pain shattered across my body. I screamed.
 

Nothing existed but blinding agony as if a thousand knives twisted under my skin, severing muscle and arteries. I fought against it but it didn’t stop. Flames engulfed my blood, scorching under my skin until the smell of burnt flesh seared my nostrils.
 

It was both from me and outside me, an ancient power that withstood the test of time. A sliver of understanding broke through.

I knew this. I knew…

After endless moments, the pain subsided. I lay curled on the floor, legs tucked into my chest, arms wrapped around my stomach.
 

Sweat poured down my face. My vision swam.

“Here.” Something hard against my mouth. “Drink this, Kendra.”

Refreshing water wet my lips and I greedily swallowed. Someone’s cool palm rested against my forehead.

Voices drifted in and out.

“…Why didn’t you tell us ?”

“Because I was not sure. She had a bit of difficulty earlier but the effects seemed minor —“

“Minor? She passed out!”

I tried to focus on the voices.
 

“…there is nothing we can do. She cannot tell us. The spell binds her to silence.”

Nexa. Her voice trembled slightly.

Wincing, I pulled myself up. My body ached.
 

“Rest, Kendra.” The cool hand belonged to Catrin. She knelt beside me, her brows furrowed.

“I’ll be fine.”

Strong arms encircled my waist, familiar and reassuring.
 

“Easy,” Tristan murmured.

Julian’s sharp gaze flickered over me and Tristan. I straightened and squared my shoulders.

“It’s okay.”
 

Tristan let go but I felt the weight of his gaze as I walked over to the stuffed armchair on my own. My back felt as if someone had stomped all over it.

Nexa shrugged. “Well, now we know.”

Patrice nervously twisted her hands in her lap. “I still do not understand why the
sondaleur
’s means for ending this war must be bound by silence.“

“Because that’s the point,” I said hoarsely. “I have to bear it alone.”

That was the ultimate legacy of the
sondaleur
. It was the reason behind Nexa, Rhian, and my mother’s teachings.
 

They’d only been able to guide me to it, but I’d had to find it on my own.

Jeeves frowned, concentration etching sharp lines around his nose and mouth. Julian leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Gabe’s scowl deepened and Catrin sat frozen, her back straight, chin tilted up.
 

Tristan studied me. A hard mask had settled across his face.

The Warrior Prince was afraid.

I was, too.
 

“Rhian knew.” Catrin said quietly. “Didn’t she?”

“My mother, too.”

“And they were silenced? By the same magic?”

I nodded.

“You really can’t tell us.” The reality of that truth seemed to sink into Patrice. “You know the end and you can’t tell us. How is this possible? How are we supposed to —“

“Will you quit being concerned with yourself for once?” Julian snapped. His eyes blazed a brilliant blue fire. “I know you only want to ensure the safety of you and your Redavi friends but we’re talking about —“

“I’m worried about you,” she murmured.
 

Her gaze flickered between Jeeves and her son. She nervously smoothed her skirt and cleared her throat.

“I’m worried about everyone in Haverleau,” she amended in a stronger voice.
 

Gabe crossed his arms. “What do you need, Kendra?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I said carefully. “I need to figure out how to get us to the…end. In the meantime, pull as many chevaliers and gardinels back here as you can without compromising the other communities.”

“You think it’ll end in Haverleau,” Tristan said.

That’s what the Shadow had said and some part of me knew he was right.

Haverleau was where everything had begun between the Shadow and
sondaleur
.

It was where it should end.

I glanced at Patrice. “You might want to think about evacuation procedures.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” she said stiffly.

Fear had created an alternate reality for her, one in which Redavi remained untouched by war, their perfectly manicured lives separate from the reality pummeling so many others.

That fear had cost her everything, yet she still chose to hide behind it.
 

Everyone looked at her with expressions raging from mild disinterest to open disgust. Her hands trembled, momentarily breaking her haughty costume.

I felt sorry for her.

“It goes without saying that what we have discussed in this room should not be spoken outside it.” She stood, armor back in place. “I’m assuming you will come up with some sort of plan?”

I nodded.
 

“Yes, well.” Uncertainty flickered through her eyes. “Then I suppose I should —“

“If we want the Council to support the
sondaleur
, we will need to present a united front.” Catrin stood. “Let’s have a look at those evacuation protocols, Marquisa.”
 

Something that almost looked like gratitude flickered through Patrice’s eyes. She gave a curt nod and left with Catrin.

We spent a few more minutes going over details for chevalier and gardinels deployment. It was a frustrating conversation. I couldn’t be of much help, not only because of the silencing spell, but because I didn’t have the entire picture yet.
 

The others left. Nexa headed for the door last.
 

“Are there any right choices?” I asked.

“Choice is not moral,” she told me. “It is not inherently good or evil. Like magic, there is only the intent behind it. All that matters is that it’s the one you believe in.”
 

She exited.

I walked to the bay windows overlooking the garden. Above the tall rows of immaculately maintained flower bushes, the stately lines and curves of the Governing House rose up to the sky.
 

How many times had Rhian looked through those tall windows on to the beautiful gardens and made an ugly decision of war and blood and death?
 

Because while I had contorted on the floor in pain, recognition had set in.

I knew this magic, the power the silenced us.

Gazing out at the beauty we attempted to hold on to, I gently tugged on the thread binding us and called.

The name spun through me, vivid and luminous, a silver strand glinting against the sun.

***

The mat room was about equality.

Everyone who walked in here had something to learn from an opponent. It didn’t matter if you won or lost, got hammered or did the hammering.