Heir of Broken Fate: Chapter 23

When Hazel and I enter the dining room the next morning, breakfast is already served, with Knox lounging in his usual seat, sipping coffee while food overflows his plate.

I take my own seat, noting that the breakfast food served this morning consists of mine and Hazel’s favorites—nothing else. I make a mental note to go to the kitchen today and thank the workers for the wonderful food. With the servants concealing themselves, I haven’t been able to thank anyone.

I fill my plate with eggs, bacon, sausages, and toast, feeling famished after last night’s experience. The constant use of magic—holding the protection shield, concealing myself, and lighting embers of fire—used a good chunk of my energy, so much so that even though I was rattled from the experience I slept like the dead.

I wonder how much power I truly have if that made me tired. Will I truly be able to break the entrapment spell when the time comes?

“What happened last night?” Hazel asks, biting into a forkful of pancakes.

“We found a hidden trap door; the room was full of all these intricate drawings and at the end of the corridor were books all containing dark magic and demons.” I shiver thinking about the room. “It felt as if something awoke when I took the books.”

Knox places his coffee down. “Someone placed a guarding spell around the room and whoever did knows the books were taken.” He picks up his cutlery, cutting into a slice of bacon. “We must be careful in handling the books. There’s residual dark magic clinging to them.”

Hazel’s brows furrow. “Is that even possible? After all this time?”

“I felt it for myself.” Knox takes a bite of his food, his brows drawing into concentration. “I think the drawings on the walls tell a story. I haven’t seen etchings like them before.”

“Can I see?” Hazel asks, placing her fork down.

Hazel’s eyes glaze over while Knox continues eating, as if transferring memories is a mundane task.

“What was that?” she breathes once her eyes clear.

“We should see if any of the Fae history books contain similar storytelling,” Knox murmurs.

“It looked like—”

The dining room doors fly open, cutting off my speech. Knox is standing at the back of my chair in an instant, his protection shield snapping around Hazel and I.

I look past his large frame. In the doorway stands a small Fae male, his chest heaving and hair wild as if he’s been running for hours.

“What happened, Hugo?” Knox rumbles.

The young man gulps. “Fae were taken again last night, sir.”

Knox’s entire body goes taut; his shoulders stiffen as the corner of his jaw clenches. His voice a dark rumble of rage as he asks, “How many?”

Hugo, who must be Knox’s messenger, blanches. “Thirty,” he croaks.

Knox doesn’t move. The whole palace falls quiet—birds stop chirping, dishes stop rattling. Even the hidden servants around the house pause, as if they feel the shift in the air.

My heart sinks. Turning to Hazel, I see her horrified expression mirrors my own.

“Thirty,” Knox breathes, running a hand through his hair. “That’s the most that’s ever been taken in one night. How on earth…?” His voice sounds utterly broken as anguish flashes through his sapphire eyes.

And in that moment, I realize with utter clarity that he is nothing like my father at all. He truly does care for his people. My father wouldn’t bat an eye at thirty people going missing; he’d simply raise his glass in a toast, celebrating.

Guilt rushes to my stomach and something eerily similar to shame. I misjudged Knox, projecting my feelings of my father onto him. When I looked at Knox, all I saw was my father and Easton’s lifeless body on the ground. As unfair as that is to Knox, I couldn’t help it. Knox’s title alone makes my internal hackles rise.

Knox’s deep exhale snaps me out of my thoughts. “Can you show me where they were taken?”

Hugo’s cheeks redden. “Yes, sir. Whenever you’re ready.”

Knox’s pain-filled sapphire eyes find mine. “Do you mind if I show you what I see? I want to speak to the families.”

I nod, my eyes softening. “Of course. I’ll stay with Hazel.”

Knox doesn’t utter another word as he follows Hugo out of the dining room door.

Turning to Hazel, I declare, “We need to go through the books.”

Hazel and I spent the entire day pouring over every inch of the library books in Knox’s study. When the sun begins to fade in the afternoon, I snap the book in my hand shut, irritation coursing through me after another day of no answers.

None of the books Hazel and I read today held any information as to where dark magic books are located, let alone anything about entrapment spells large enough to hold an entire race. After the horrible presence we felt in the library, Knox suggested we hold off on going near the books for a few days. The only thing we can stay positive about is that some of the dark magic books weren’t destroyed when they were banned.

I look toward the clock mounted on the wall to my left, chiming across the room.

Knox hasn’t returned to the house since his departure this morning and I hate to admit it, but as each hour passes, I become more restless and jittery. Anxiety pulses through me, my thoughts telling me that something has happened to him. I tell myself that’s ridiculous, Knox can handle himself just fine…yet my anxiety has a mind of its own.

No longer able to sit still as my heart beats wildly in my chest, I pace around the room.

“I don’t think I can read another word of this horrific demonology crap,” I declare.

Hazel sighs, closing the book in her hands. “Me neither.”

“Can you teach me more about magic?” I pause behind Hazel’s chair. “I want to see if I have earth magic.”

A smile spreads across her cheeks. “Of course!”

Exiting Knox’s study, we leave the books strewn about as they are, not bothering to tidy them up as we’ll have to continue sorting through them later.

My boots squeak in the tiled hallway as we walk through the house to the back garden. Hazel passes the spot in the garden I usually practice magic with Knox, heading straight for the outhouse shed in the far-right corner. Hazel has no qualms about entering the shed, rummaging through its contents of yard tools, pots, plants, seeds, and soil.

Emerging with an empty bucket, soil packets, seeds, and small hand shovels, Hazel inspects the garden until she finds an open sun-streaked spot. Kneeling, she dumps the items on the ground, arranging them to form a line.

I take a seat beside her, watching as she begins pouring soil into the black bucket. Once it reaches halfway, she drops a single seed into the bucket, adding another layer of soil. Clapping her hands together, she dusts off the dirt.

“Grow a flower,” she chirps.

I sputter out a laugh. “I don’t know the first thing about gardening and flowers, let alone growing one.”

Hazel picks up the bucket, placing it closer to me. “You don’t need to know what type of flower, plant, or herb it is. You simply have to find the life force within, send your magic toward it, and help it flourish. If you have earth magic, the seed will start to grow the second your magic connects with its life force,” she explains.

Everything else with magic has been about imagination. If I don’t have to picture what the flower looks like each step of the way as it develops, I should be fine.

Shaking out my hands, I lay my palms on either side of the bucket, then submerge myself into my power. Picturing myself dipping into my well of magic, I send a small portion of it out, feeling around the bucket. It brushes against the damp soil, grounding my very essence as I float in my magic well. My magic pauses as it finds the seed, swirling around it as it assesses and probes, trying to find a way in.

A warmth glows inside of the seed, a small kernel of life.

I will my magic to flow inside of it, becoming one with it. I feel the moment it connects, my magic flaring, pouring into the seed. I flutter my eyes open, watching as a small green stalk flourishes from the damp soil, growing tall and strong.

A white rose blossoms before me.

A smile spreads on my own face as I stare at Hazel. “I did it.”

Hazel claps her hands, her eyes shining bright as she stares at the rose. “This is going to be so much fun teaching you earth magic!” she exclaims with excitement. “The things you can do!”

Knox never showed for our afternoon magic lesson. I don’t blame him. Thirty missing Fae are more pressing matters.

Hazel and I walk through the dining room later that evening. We waited two hours before deciding to eat without Knox; it felt rude to eat his food without him being present.

The moment I take my seat, food suddenly appears on the dining table before me. I yelp, scraping my chair back in a rush to stand while Hazel throws her head back on a laugh.

“You should have seen your face!”

“I apologize for not being used to food appearing out of thin air!” I sputter, making Hazel’s laugh grow.

“Sit down.” She chuckles. “This is standard in the court palaces.”

I hesitantly take my seat. “The servants have been placing the food on the table by hand before this.”

Hazel smiles slyly. “They were being kind to you, letting you get used to the different formalities of how the Fae work.”

My eyes widen. “Why would they do that? I don’t need any special treatment.”

“Knox asked them.”

“Why on earth would he do that?” I snap.

Hazel rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath, “I wonder why.”

“Why? Is it protocol for them to not place the food on the table themselves? Does Knox not allow them in the room?” I ask, my anger rising at the thought.

“God no!” Hazel exclaims. “Most servants have shadow magic. They’re very introverted Fae and prefer it this way.”

My jaw drops. “They were in the room when the food appeared?”

Hazel nods, her lips twitching.

“They saw my outburst?” I yelp.

Hazel covers her mouth with her hand, failing miserably to contain her laughter. “Yes.”

I throw my napkin at her. “You’re horrible!”

“If the roles were reversed, you’d tease me endlessly.”

I lift my chin. Point taken.

We both giggle as we fill our plates with lamb, creamy mashed potatoes, and vegetables.

“How are you doing with everything?” I ask, waving my hand around the room.

She cuts a piece of lamb, pushing her food around her plate. “It was an adjustment at first but I like it. I miss my home, but I have a purpose here and something to accomplish. It feels nice to be needed again…” She trails off.

“I’d apologize for turning your life upside down, but it’s been nice having a friend,” I say softly in return, opening myself up.

“I think we both needed it,” she murmurs.

I dip my chin, changing the subject before my heart gets buried with sadness and grief. “How many books do we have left to go through?”

Hazel swallows. “Around twenty, give or take.”

“Is there any more to check out in the library?” I ask.

“Fifteen or so,” Hazel says. “So how are your magic lessons going with Knox?” she asks, the picture of cool indifference.

I narrow my eyes. “Just fine, why?”

Hazel shrugs, keeping her eyes glued to her plate. “He’s very handsome.”

I cough, choking on a green bean. I quickly recover, taking a sip of my water. “If you say so.” Deny, deny, deny.

Hazel finally looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “So there’s nothing going on?”

I sputter. “Going on? Are you insane? He’s a Fae king.”

Hazel cocks her head. “That’s not a denial. And what’s wrong with being a king?”

I ignore her last question. Cutting up my food I bite into a small piece of lamb, nearly choking for the second time tonight as the dining room doors fly open.

“Sorry to startle you ladies,” Knox purrs as he strolls into the room.

He’s freshly bathed, his short tousled black hair wet and styled back. His soapy, pinewood scent fills my nose. I squelch the sigh that wants to escape, ignoring how my anxiety evaporated the moment he entered the room.

Knox takes his usual seat, filling up his plate. “I have good news. Whoever took the Fae left their scent. It’s faint, yet trackable.” Knox slides mischief-filled eyes to mine. “Care to join me? I can teach you how to track with your new senses.”

I’m so used to being cut out of information and being told I could never do anything at the palace that I have to tell my stupid heart not to be excited at being included. This is part of the bargain. Simply the deal we made.

I twirl the napkin in my lap. “I know how to track and hunt.”

Knox’s brows rise, delight filling his eyes. “Great, we leave tonight.”

I’m dressed in my fighting leathers and armed to the teeth in weapons as I squat beside Knox, looking into the pitch-black darkness of vast forest before me. We tracked the disgusting smell the beasts left behind. The scent was eerily similar to the soul eater’s, with the odor of a rotting corpse. It led us from rooftop to rooftop through Azalea before finally descending into the forest, heading northward.

“How did it get past the wards around the city?”

A muscle ticks in Knox’s jaw. “I would love to know.” Clearing his throat, Knox changes the subject. “Send your magic out, see if you feel anything dwelling in the forest.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” I confess.

Knox leans closer to me, speaking barely above a whisper. If I didn’t have Fae hearing I wouldn’t be able to hear him at all. “Close your eyes.” Goosebumps prickle my arms, but I follow his instructions, letting his voice guide me. “Cast a small part of your magic toward the woods. Tell me what you feel.”

I do as he says, letting a slip of my power out, imagining that I’m physically searching the forest. Joy fills my heart as my magic glides over different energies pulsing throughout the grounds. Trees, birds, rabbits, and even a small family of foxes. Nothing feels out of the ordinary, my magic distinguishing the energetic feel.

Awestruck at what my magic is capable of, what I’m capable of, I smile.

How extraordinary, to have a gift that can feel the magic of life itself.

“I don’t feel anything wrong,” I breathe. “I can sense animals, yet they’re from these lands. I feel their sense of security and calm.”

Knox watches me, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Good, let’s go,” he announces, warmth encompassing my hand as he grabs it, teleporting us.

I stumble before righting myself as my feet land on the dense forest floor. “You have to teach me that,” I whisper.

“I’ll add it to the lesson plan,” he says before strolling away.

I’m too shocked to speak. He plans our lessons? Warmth fills my chest before I squelch it, tamping down on the ridiculous notion that Knox cares.

Eyes, ears, and shields on full alert, we follow the scent of the beasts, the smell of fear mingling beside the rotting beasts’ scent.

We walk for miles in silence, barely disturbing the forest floor as we do, not wanting to be detected. Knox blows our scents in an opposite direction. We pass sleeping foxes, ravines, ponds, bird nests, and endless amounts of trees until I’m officially lost, having no idea where I am. I could have sworn we’ve even walked around in a circle. Each tree begins to blend into one. Hearing running water again, I’m about to voice my concerns that we’re going nowhere when I hear the difference in the water pattern.

It’s large, the largest volume of water we’ve come across yet. The further we walk, the louder the water becomes, deafening to the point I have to tamp down on my hearing as my ears throb.

Passing lines of trees, Knox starts to slow, a curse leaving his mouth as he stops dead.

I come up beside his broad frame, seeing a gorgeous waterfall below us.

If we walked to the left and followed the cliff’s edge, we’d collide with the stream that flows down the waterfall into a swimming hole. I’m about to comment on its beauty when my senses pick up on what’s made Knox tense.

The scent is gone.

“They went into the water,” Knox growls.

Before I can respond, I’m in Knox’s arms, airborne as he flies back to his house.

Irritation pulses off his body in waves. If I hadn’t flown with him before I would say his body being taut is normal, yet I know it’s not.

Every day we take one step closer to finding answers only to be led to a complete dead end.

With no words to comfort, I stay silent the whole flight back.

Knox and I walk down the hallway to our rooms. Hazel bursts out of hers, hope filling her eyes until she sees our own dejected expressions. Hazel’s face falls as I say, “It was a dead end.”

“I’ve gone through every single book; I haven’t found any more leads,” Hazel adds hopelessly.

“We need to go through the books we found in the abandoned library,” I whisper.

We’ve been holding off on going near them due to the dark magic clinging to them. Everyone felt hesitant about touching them; now, we have no other choice.

Knox nods. “Tomorrow. For now, we need to rest. It’s been a long day.” He sighs, retreating into his room.

“He’s been doing this for years without any answers. I can’t imagine how that feels over time,” Hazel whispers.

I nod my agreement as memories fill my mind, each containing my father. I don’t voice that I know what it feels like to wake up every day to live out the same horrible pattern. Luckily, I only endured it for twenty-two years, but Knox has been living like this for over a hundred.

Saying goodnight to Hazel, I enter my room, bypassing the bed and heading straight into the bathing suite. I need to settle myself after thinking about my past, and the only way I know how to is a bath.

I unstrap the swords and various knives attached to me, dumping them on the ground to be cleaned later, then peel off my fighting leathers.

Hissing as I enter the steaming water, I can’t stop the onslaught of memories that arise of my father and his beatings. Nothing can stop them from pouring out once the lid to the box has been cracked open, so I sit there in the porcelain tub as memory after memory assaults my mind and soul. Tears rolls down my cheeks, and I wonder if the memories will ever disappear.

One day, I pray I will never remember any of it.