Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

41. Questionable Outcomes

Chapter 41

Questionable Outcomes

G azing around the study, it struck me how it had transformed from a foreign space, to one of familiarity and comfort. With these men now a part of my life, I found solace in the room. A smile crept up on me as I realized this was only the beginning—many meetings lay ahead, where we would be strategizing and collaborating as one.

“Where shall we start?” Tarrin asked no one in particular, then addressed Thaddeus: “What have you told her so far?”

“Nothing, we haven’t had the time.” Tarrin gave a knowing smirk, and Thaddeus sent him a warning glare in return.

“Okay,” Tarrin said, shifting back into the role of Thaddeus’ second. “There are a few things we still need to address,” he started, looking at me. “One, the fae are far more powerful than we predicted. Our assumption is that we’ve only seen a fragment of their magic and how it can be used. You witnessed more power than any of us, Ny, but with what Amos and Caius displayed, I’d say we’ve only seen a drop in the bucket. And if things were to turn into all-out war…” He let the words trail off.

“War?” I blurted, shocked at the implication .

“War has always been a possibility, Nyleeria,” Thaddeus explained. “For my people to be free, to not have to fear the fae and their powers…like I said, it’s always been a possibility.”

“I don’t understand. Yes, Amos and Wymond could pose a threat, but the other two courts welcomed us. Treated us with kindness. Helped me,” I protested.

“We can’t trust anyone, Nyleeria,” Thaddeus said softly.

“But we built friendships while we were there, ties that could help us if we need.”

“The fae would wipe us off this planet if they had a choice,” Nevander said, his cold words dripping with malice.

“They would have done so already if that were the case,” I countered. “Nothing has happened in over five hundred years, and even then, they stopped when they thought the threat was neutralized.”

“Neutralized?” Thaddeus said coldly.

“You know what I mean.”

“They killed my family, Nyleeria. I’d say that goes beyond neutralized .”

“I’m sorry,” I offered, and started again. “What I’m trying—and failing—to convey, is that they left the general human populace alone. If they wanted to decimate us, surely they would have already.”

A pause. Tarrin and Nevander glanced at Thaddeus.

“What?” I asked.

“That’s not entirely true,” Thaddeus said. “The spell I cast as a child had larger implications than we realized. Not only did it create the veil for our people, but apparently it renders fae magic useless on our lands.”

“The fae can’t use magic in our realm?”

“They can valen, but no, they can’t use their elemental magic.”

“How do you know this?”

“That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we now understand why they’ve left us alone,” Thaddeus said.

“But why does my magic work, then? ”

“Well…that’s one of the things we wanted to discuss today,” Thaddeus hedged. I held his gaze, waiting for him to explain. “The truth is, the spark doesn’t seem to follow any of the rules. But it is possible that my ancient spell precludes you because you’re human.”

“Or it could be because you haven’t actually learned to wield your powers yet,” Nevander said under his breath, and Thaddeus sent him a sharp look.

He was right, though. In the short time we’d practiced, I hadn’t gotten very far, and our lessons had been sidelined to prepare for our visit to the Summer Court.

“Okay, but my powers aside,” I said, “you have your spell magic, and the fae can’t use their magic on human lands. Doesn’t that mean this isn’t an issue anymore, that we’re safe?” Warm hope bloomed in my chest. Perhaps this could end before it began. Surely, if the fae had intended to destroy us, they would have found a way to do so by now.

“No,” Thaddeus said solemnly, and my heart dropped. “I can’t let the fate of my people rest on the lore of one spell to protect them. Yes, I’ve been granted immortality, but that doesn’t mean I can’t die. What if the spell is connected to my life force somehow? What if the magic fails? More importantly, what if the fae find a way to lift the spell?”

He was right. Magic appeared to be fickle, or at least that had been my experience with it, and he was looking for a permanent solution to protect us for time immemorial.

Amos’ words ran through my mind: I never did like the humans being considered one of us, sharing our food and our celebrations. A shiver ran down my spine.

“You think they would have made us extinct if you didn’t cast that spell, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

How could one word hold so much weight?

Despite myself, the brutality of a human-fae war flashed in my mind, the cracks of cobblestone disappearing under pools of red. Unseeing eyes. Bodies. Silence. That was what it would be like if the fae had extinguished us.

Icy cold ran through my veins, and something clicked.

“It had to be Amos,” I said simply.

“What did?” Nevander asked, eyeing me.

“Amos has to be responsible for taking the twins.” The others didn’t look convinced, so I forged on. “Think about it. He is the only high lord who was alive before the Great War and who remembers what it was like to have humans and fae intertwined—and he loathed it. If he’s looking for the spark, for me, it could be because he thinks I’m the key to breaking the spell.”

A wave of dread filled me. How close had I been to ending up in his grip? He could have used me to annihilate the human race. I swallowed back bile. I knew then, without a doubt, that the twins were alive, and they would remain so until he got what he wanted. Had Amos known who I was? Surely, my brother and sister would have told him my name. But why press me at the celebration? Why threaten to kill me? Why not just take me? Unless he wasn’t sure…unless there were other things at play. Maybe he wasn’t the one who’d taken them. No, that couldn’t be right. I didn’t have all the information, but my parents’ murder was the type of cruelty he was capable of.

“Amos wanting you for his own purpose is something we considered, but we don’t believe he knows you’re the spark. If he did, we think he would have risked taking you,” Tarrin said.

“But maybe he couldn’t take me. What if the celebration was warded against such things?”

“Perhaps, but Endymion is not from the Autumn Court, and he did valen you. Not out of the court itself, but someone could have easily valenned you to the border and gone from there. Even if there were wards in place,” Thaddeus explained.

I turned the logic around and around, but I’d run out of theories. Facing Tarrin, I said, “So now what?”

“When you vanished for two days,” he began, and I winced, feeling guilty that it had happened at all. Tarrin noted it. “Ny, you disappearing worked in our favor. Before then, we couldn’t access certain areas of Caius’ estate. Thaddeus demanded unvetted access to the entire property—the entire court, actually—to search for you. He implied nefarious intent if they refused him, and they yielded.”

I glanced at Thaddeus. His look hardened, as if remembering the moment he’d realized I was missing.

“We came across an ancient tome Nevander overheard Artton talking about. He referenced a magical object that had immeasurable power.”

Thaddeus snapped his fingers, and the tome appeared.

“You stole it?” I yelped.

A wicked grin played across Tarrin’s face. “Of course we did. How else would we know what we’re looking for?”

Brazen . It would have been beyond risky to do such a thing. I smiled at the combined pride filling the room. Clearly, my outcry was the response they’d hoped for. I shook my head, smiling—I supposed some things didn’t change with age.

I sobered again as Tarrin continued, “We couldn’t find any information on why they want the object. Regardless of their intent, one thing is clear: it’s an extremely powerful tool that could prove devastating if they decide to use it against us.”

Reading between the lines, I said, “So, you want to find it first?”

Thaddeus smiled. “Yes.”

“What, exactly, is the object, and how do you know they don’t already have it?”

Nevander answered. “The scripture is vague,” he said, frustration lacing his words, “but we know they don’t have it because we also stole a map we believe shows the possible locations of the object.”

“Or where they have already looked,” Thaddeus said. “We couldn’t ascertain which.”

“Have we started looking yet?” I glanced toward the tome, wondering what this magical object was and why even the written word was evasive on the subject .

“I’ve tried spellcraft, but I’m going to need your help.”

I raised a brow.

“I think the object doesn’t want to be found,” Thaddeus said, “but it’s possible it will respond differently to you. If it’s ancient—and the spark is ancient—then perhaps it will prove less elusive for you.”

The logic made sense, or at least as much sense as any of this could.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Yes,” Thaddeus said, then paused, shifting his weight slightly. “You need to master your powers.”

I nodded in understanding, anticipating the comment. It wasn’t just about my family. They were right; the fae’s power surpassed our wildest imaginings. Perhaps we would find the magical object, perhaps we wouldn’t; either way, I needed to be ready. The hard familiarity of determination slid over me—I’d train every waking hour to harness the power deep within me if that’s what it took.

“Say that we get this magical object,” I said, “then what? We fortify the protection around the human realm to keep ourselves safe?”

The air in the room stilled, and I could have sworn they held their breath. My heart dropped.

“We get this object, and then what, Tarrin?” I gritted.

He held my gaze but didn’t respond.

“Then we show them the same courtesy they would show us,” Nevander said. “We eliminate them.”

A chill seeped in so deep I felt it in my marrow.

I blinked at him. Then Tarrin. Then Thaddeus. A cold, calculating mask was all that met me.

I swallowed, holding Thaddeus’ gaze. “You can’t be serious?”

But he was. His expression didn’t relent, and it was the first time I’d truly witnessed King Thaddeus Artemis Alton the Third, the immortal ruler of the human realm. The monarch willing to do anything to protect his people, his future family .

“You’re talking about genocide,” I whispered in shock, feeling utter disbelief.

“Don’t think for a second they wouldn’t do the same thing to us, given the chance, Nyleeria,” Thaddeus said, his tone even, eyes cold.

There was no room for discussion.

It had made me sick to consider Amos wielding me against my own people, but this—how was it any different? In an instant, that armor of determination, of resolve, felt like a prison. Was I truly willing to do anything to get my siblings back? To help protect the human realm? After what they’d seen, what had happened to the king’s family—gods, what happened to mine—I understood why they thought this was the only way. Maybe they were right; I’d witnessed fae cruelty firsthand—as had my parents.

This wasn’t getting resolved today.

Either way, I still needed to gain control of the spark, and until the mythical object was obtained, it was all conjecture. It was possible that neither I nor the object were as powerful as lore dictated. Stars above, I prayed the power within me wasn’t capable of such things.

I took a deep breath, willing calm into my veins. “So, we look for the object, train, and pray to the Mother that things stay status quo until we find it?”

“That about sums it up,” Tarrin said, slicing through the tension.

“And you have nothing else to share with me?” I asked, hoping for a no —I wasn’t sure I could handle any more surprises.

Tarrin chuckled. “We uncovered a possible plot to eliminate the human race as we know it, found and stole a tome and a map while you tumbled through space for two days, and you’re asking us if that’s it?”

Thaddeus’ intensity seemed to melt away as he said, “What Tarrin is trying to say is, no. Nothing of consequence, anyway.”

“You’re sure?”

He stepped forward and collected my hands into his. “Yes, I’m sure. ”

I sighed, and he pulled me into a hug, placing a kiss atop my head.

Drawing back, I looked up at him. “May I see it, the map?”

Thaddeus released me and I followed him as he walked over to the ornate desk where the map had been laid out. Its parchment looked frail enough that I was afraid to touch it, and the familiar scent of the Summer Court, of Caius, wafted up from it, sending a pang through me. Could the high lord truly be an enemy? I supposed it was better to err on the side of caution. But wouldn’t allies be beneficial if war came?

The map was laden with faint outlines and script, as well as newer marks—perhaps the possible locations of the magical object. I leaned in to get a closer look. The shapes were familiar—too familiar to be a rendition of the fae realm—but there, in tiny letters, were the names of the seasonal courts themselves.

I looked to Thaddeus, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither did we. I had my cartographer review it, and here’s what he came up with—his explanation for how it all comes together.” Thaddeus made the ancient page disappear, then rolled out the newly minted map where the other had been.

Studying the map, I noticed it bore a striking resemblance to the ancient one, though this was decidedly easier to decipher. Yet, there was something new—a layer bordering the entire land mass had been added. My brows furrowed in concentration, slowly piecing it together. It was as if the human realm wrapped around the fae territories, reminiscent of how the courts had encircled the Celestial Court in Thaddeus’ vision.

“How is this possible?” I finally asked, tracing the new lines.

In response, Thaddeus lightly touched the map, and a glow emanated from beneath his fingers, transforming it into the familiar geography I’d known since childhood. His palms faced one another as if holding a sphere, and then slowly pulled apart. The parchment shimmered and transformed; the very fabric of the map responded, stretching and distending. The heart of the land now lay vacant, like a pupil into an iris. The landmarks were where they belonged, but now the Nettorian Mountain Range was split by emptiness. The mountains I grew up in were still nestled in the northwest quadrant, while the other half were down in the southeast portion of the map.

Thaddeus let the rest of the map fill in, and I understood.

“It… They…” I couldn’t find words.

I continued to look at this new map, absorbing what it implied. “But there’s no land between those mountain ranges. I grew up in them. All the peaks…the peaks in this map”—I pointed to the separated mountain range—“there’s no land between them.”

“I know,” Thaddeus said soothingly as he squeezed my shoulder.

“So, what? You’re telling me that if you were to step from here”—I pointed to the northwest corner of the map—“to here”—now down to the southeast corner—“that it would feel as if you’re taking one step, but you’ve actually traveled past the entire fae realm, through the Winter and Summer Courts, and just appear back in the human realm?”

“Yes. It’s either a glamor, a different form of valenning, or the fae land sits in a different dimension entirely—although I’m more inclined to believe the former,” Thaddeus added, as if to himself.

I was utterly speechless as I continued to study the map and its implications.

“All of the markings,” I said, pointing to the ones that could indicate where the magical object was, “are in the fae realm. How are we supposed to get to the object if we can’t even get into their lands without one of them valenning us?”

“We haven’t got that far yet,” Thaddeus admitted.

I wondered if having the spark would grant me access to the fae realm without being valenned in, like how I’d somehow taken us to that void. Stars, every time I was promised answers, we turned a corner only to find another dead end.

“I’d have to say that I don’t agree that this isn’t of consequence,” I said dryly.

“I suppose that’s true. I hadn’t realized how adept you are at reading maps. I didn’t know the implications would be this significant to you.”

I glowered at him. “Is there anything else that you’ve deemed too insignificant to tell me?”

“I’m sorry about the map, Nyleeria,” he offered.

I sighed. I wasn’t mad at him, not really. It was just a lot to take in, and I was frustrated.

“And the best way for me to help is to figure out this power of mine?”

“For now, yes. I’d like to start your training this afternoon, if you’re up for it, that is.” Uncertainty flickered in Thaddeus’ eyes.

Perhaps he’d thought I’d refuse, given his ultimate intention. But I needed to understand this ancient power. And if Amos found out I was the spark, he’d hunt me down no matter what Caius said.

“Okay,” I said, “I’m in.”