Bound by Spells (Bound Series Book 2) (13 page)

A King. I was a King. Of people who turn into animals. I turned into an animal.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I muttered to myself.

Elias laughed. “I wish I was, Aidan. But you are the one and we don’t have time to lose. The question is, are you ready and willing to be the man we need you to be? The man she needs you to be? I will be there with you every step of the way.”

I looked over at Elias and his solemn expression. It was clear he wasn’t going to try to convince me. What he didn’t understand was he didn’t have to.

Everything about being an AniMage felt right. For years, I’d always known when I was walking into an abusive home, or when the kids at school were coming for me. I’d always trusted my sixth sense to tell me when I was making the right choice. It had led me to Amelia and it had led me here. Believing I was their King...that was a battle for another day. Forcing my mind back to the facts of why I was here to begin with, I cleared my throat and met his gaze.

“I came here to find out who I was and how you could help me save Amelia. Nothing has changed. Now I know who I am and I know you’ll help me. Where do we start?”

Chapter 12

I
had spent more hours than I wanted to count over the past few days surrounded by books Micah wouldn’t let me touch, claiming we had to wait for this mysterious Tragar to get back because he would direct us to the right places. Today was that day. I was antsy and kept opening my door to see whether Micah had opened his, signaling he was up and we would go to the library soon. After the third time, Baleon finally turned to me, and said, “Would you like me to wake him?”

It actually startled me a little. “Well, well, it’s good to know you can actually see me!” I smiled and the corners of his lips quirked the tiniest bit before his face resumed its standard blank look. He stared down at me, waiting for an answer, and I laughed. “Yes, please, bodyguard of mine. Wake your master and tell him to get his butt over here.”

I closed the door, but listened for Baleon’s footsteps across the marble floor and his knock on Micah’s door. Micah’s sleepy voice followed and he hollered, “I’m coming, you slave driver. Did Bethany teach you to wake up this bloody early?”

I wrenched the door open at the mention of her name. It was the first time he had spoken of her. I had wanted so badly to bring her up, but we’d been getting along and I needed Micah’s help. Micah stood across the hallway from me, looking just as surprised by his own outburst. His eyes were wide as he gripped his door with white knuckles. Baleon stood silently, his eyes slowly moving back and forth between us.

“Do you miss her, too?” I asked. “Just tell me, Micah, because I miss her so much and I don’t want to believe you hurt her and don’t feel something.” My chest tightened as I watched him. He took a few shallow breaths before speaking quietly.

“Of course I miss her, Amelia. She is the only person who ever knew me as simply Micah. I wasn’t the bastard Prince hidden behind Hunters or the subject of a prophecy. I wasn’t Mikail. I was Micah and she wanted to be with me anyway.” He started to shut the door, only pausing to say, “Be ready in ten minutes.”

As he closed the door and I heard the click of the lock, I couldn't move except to whisper, “That’s what she was to me, too.” I looked up to find a sympathy I hadn’t expected in Baleon’s eyes. “Neither of us chose this. We don’t want it.”

“And yet, you are the only ones who can make it right,” he replied as he resumed his post and turned his back on me.

It
wasn’t two seconds past ten minutes and Micah was rapping on my door. I opened it, but neither of us spoke. He turned and led me to the library with Baleon just behind us. We walked beside each other, understanding that the silence between us was our acknowledgment of the completely screwed up situation we had both been dropped into.

Instead, I focused on the paintings on the walls. The landscapes were so varied…everything from lush green mountains to rolling hills dotted with trees, to cliffs covered with vegetation jutting out into the ocean. It was gorgeous and I wanted to reach out and touch them. To run my fingers over the canvas and see what it would feel like to be close to my real home. I wondered whether anyone still lived on the grounds of the main castle, or if it was a ghost town, a long-abandoned relic.

As we walked into the library, I heard the mutterings of someone as loud
thuds
sounded, over and over again. A smile overtook Micah's face as his steps quickened, rushing to the man who had to be Tragar. His name had led me to believe Tragar would be another towering man. Instead, I found a slight man wearing robes two sizes too big. He had a cap of silver hair and a long beard. His fingertips were stained black and he scowled as he flipped pages at an insane speed, closing the book cover in seconds and tossing it on the ground.

“You’re back! Welcome home, Tragar!” Micah approached him and Tragar finally looked up, a smile overtaking his face, transforming him from the grumpy little man to looking like a beaming grandfather.

“Mikail, my boy, there you are!” He hugged Micah and his eyes found me over Micah's shoulder. “And you’ve brought her to meet old Tragar, have you? Come on, dear, don’t be shy. I’m the least likely to get salty with you around here.” He laughed as he shot Baleon a look. Bale shook his head.

I approached him cautiously. Unsure of what I was supposed to do, I stuck out my hand and introduced myself. Tragar surprised me again as he grabbed my hand and yanked me in for a hug. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you, little one. Your mother told me you would come, and here you are.”

He smelled like books. Like paper and ink. And as he spoke of my mother, goose bumps rose across my skin and my eyes filled with tears.

“There, there. I’m here to help you. To help you both. And I have stories you will both need and want.” I sniffled and swallowed down the tears, nodding into his shoulder.

Tragar stepped back and moved to the stack of books in front of him. “Hunter, shut that door. Keep those demons out of here. We have work to do!” He threw a hand in the air and as his robe fell back on his arm, I noticed the symbols tattooed on his skin matched those on my cuff. I pulled at my sleeve, even though I knew the cuff was hidden.

Baleon pulled the door shut and Tragar resumed his muttering, “Hid the damn thing from myself, that’s what I did. Knew this day was coming. Can’t believe I lost Liana’s journal.”

“Her what? My mother’s what?” I exclaimed.

“Journal, your mother’s journal.” He didn’t even look up as he tossed another book onto the floor. “All of the Elders on the council kept one and hers was the only one I was able to preserve after…” His voice trailed off and Micah piped in next to me.

“After my mother lost it? You can just say it, Tragar.”

“No need to be indelicate, Mikail. I taught you better than that. Your mother is simply…misguided.”

Micah harrumphed a little. “How can we help? Where should we look?” he asked.

Tragar pointed to stacks totaling in the hundreds. “I pulled every book it made sense for me to hide it in, which, unfortunately, is many. Feel free to start going through them. I had to unbind the pages, so you are looking for loose pages. I believe I spread them out over a few volumes.” He turned to the next book, muttering again, “Just damn it if I can remember which one. I’m getting too old for this.”

Micah and I stepped around Tragar and sat down in the stacks of books across from each other.

“How old is he?” I whispered as I reached for the book on the top of the stack closest to me.

“Hundreds of years old,” Micah replied. “He’s been the librarian and historian for as long as anyone can remember. It’s the interesting thing about us. We’re called Immortals, and we can live forever, but we can also be killed. I’m guessing this is basic information no one gave you, so stop me if you’ve heard it, but we age slowly and it takes hundreds of years for us to look the age of a seventy-year-old human. Our bodies will never give out on us so long as we have our magic. But, if attacked by another Immortal, their power has the ability to eradicate our own. Once that happens, our bodies can no longer sustain us.”

My hand had stopped in mid-air as Micah spoke. The whole Immortal thing hadn’t made a lot of sense to me considering it sounded like people were dying constantly, but this explanation brought it all together. Our power was a faucet constantly turned on. As long as it ran, we lived. But if it turned off, we were done.

As my hand finally came down on the book and my fingertips pressed into the binding, I jolted. The response I’d felt from my magic during our first trip to the library was back. A smile spread across my face as I turned to Micah. “I’ve got this. I can find these. Help me! Turn them on their sides so I can get to them easily.”

I was scrambling to get up and Micah was staring at me confused. Tragar also looked up from his position, his eyes questioning. “My power, it recognizes my mother’s. When I was in here the first day, I was touching the books and I was drawn to some of them. I felt it as soon as I touched them, but I had no idea what it meant. I can find the pages faster!”

I walked up to a stack of books on a table, looked back at both men, and then slowly ran my fingers over each spine, top to bottom. Nothing. I grimaced and heard a snort come from one of them. I moved to the next set and again, nothing. Frustrated, I dropped to my knees and ran my fingers over a stack on the floor. Finally, one at the very bottom sent my Keeper into a frenzy.

“Yes! Here!” I pushed the top of the stack off the book I needed and opened it, shaking the cover and giggling as two pages fell to the floor. One of them fell face up and my smile faltered as I took in my mother’s gorgeous cursive handwriting. I was frozen, holding the book in the air as I stared at letters not forming words in my head. Micah came up beside me and gently took the book from my shaking hands.

“Are you going to pick it up?” he asked softly. I didn’t move except to shift my eyes to his. Panic twisted my insides and I fought the instinct to run. Here I was, inches away from knowing my mother’s innermost thoughts, and I couldn’t reach out to pick up the pages.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, reaching a hand toward the pages.

My mind snapped back to attention and I lunged for them. “No! I have to. I have to do this.” I stopped short of actually picking the pages up and looked back to Tragar.

“Do you know how many of these there are? How will we know what order they go in?”

“There are a few hundred. This is the journal she kept when her betrothal was announced. She spent a great deal of time in the castle library during those weeks before she ran away with Nathaniel. And the pages are numbered. Before I hid them, I did that myself.”

I looked down and found I was staring at page thirty-two. “Then we will find them all. I will find them all and then read them. Not yet.”

“Are you sure, Amelia? This is your mother’s journal, don't you—”

I cut Micah off. “No. Not yet. I want it all. I need to understand it all. I’m…I’m…” I stumbled, trying to find the right way to explain it. I was afraid of what I would find in these pages. I wanted to find the mother I had always hoped for. The one I had heard about from Cole. But, nothing in my life had turned out as I expected and I had no idea what would lie within those pages.

“It’s okay, Amelia. I understand. Let’s find them all, then.” He pulled me to my feet and then reached back down to pick up the pages, looking up at me for confirmation before he actually touched them. I nodded, a lump in my throat as the Keeper pushed at me, wanting me to take them, to not let him near my mother’s innermost thoughts and fears. But, if I had any chance at all, I needed all the help I could get.

It
didn’t take as long as we expected. My Keeper was on the ball. As Tragar and Micah worked to line up the books, I walked along, my finger grazing each spine until I would feel the power spike, pull the book from the stack, and hand it to Micah. He would find the pages and hand them to Tragar, who put them in numerical order. In a matter of hours, I was sitting in a chair by the fire, a stack of pages in my hand I still didn’t feel ready to read.

Micah had sent Bale to bring us lunch and he and Tragar were in the next room talking. They had left me to do this alone. It was both what I needed and the last thing I wanted. I wished Aidan were here. He was always so strong and sure. He didn’t let me waffle and question. He just made decisions and acted. He forced me to see past the emotion and questions and made me find the truth. What would he have said to me right now?