Page 46 of A Curse of Breath and Blood (The Mind Breaker #1)

45 THARAN

Tharan’s senses screamed at him to go after Aelia, but their efforts were better spent apart. He hurried up the stairs, hoping the invisibility potion lasted long enough for him to find something and return before Aelia did.

Hundreds of candles, all burning low, lit the study with an eerie glow. In the center, a desk made of mirrors sat decked with tomes and scrolls.

Tharan rifled furiously through the papers, covering the history of magic in Moriana.

Why did Erissa require all of this? What relevance did it hold in relation to Gideon’s insatiable thirst for power?

A red leather journal lay hidden in one of the mirrored drawers. Flipping through the pages, a map with an ‘x’ caught his eye. A note next to it read:

Trinity Well?

Tharan racked his mind for the stories he’d heard as a child. Stories of the magical wells formed by each sister of the Trinity in secret. Wells of immense power. Power to raise the dead, power to set the sea ablaze. Tharan swallowed hard. Power to turn a man into a god.

Erissa had been a follower of Crom Cruach. He obsessed over the origins of magic.

The pieces of the puzzle placed themselves in Tharan’s mind.

Erissa attacked the Court of Sorrows to gain possession of the Army of the Dead. With an army of that size and ability, she could trample over Moriana until she found the magic she needed. Gideon was a pawn in her game. He could play as conqueror while she amassed her desired power.

Tharan’s breath caught in his throat at the thought of Erissa wielding the power of the Army of the Dead. She hadn’t found the scepter, for she would have used it against the Woodland Realm. If she didn’t have it, then who did? Maybe no one. Maybe it was still in the Court of Sorrows waiting to be found.

He needed to return to the ruins of the Court of Sorrows and search for the scepter, but that would have to wait.

Tucking the dairy into his smock, he headed for the door, only to run face-first into an invisible barrier.

“Going somewhere, King?” a voice as smooth as butter whispered in his ear.

Behind him, a gust of air whirled, revealing a female form.

“Erissa,” Tharan spat the name out.

“I am surprised you remember me. The last time we met, you were nothing but a twig. You have grown…”

“I was a child, and you took advantage of me.” A muscle ticked in his jaw at the thought of what occurred long ago.

“You were seventeen. Marriage age in the human lands. There is nothing wrong with an older female teaching a young male the ways of love.” She ran a slender finger down his neck.

Tharan gritted his teeth in disgust. “Do not speak to me of love. For you know nothing of it. ”

An urgent tug pulled at his heartstrings. Aelia . “Where is she?” he growled.

“I guess you’ll have to come find her.” Disappearing into a cloud of smoke, Erissa’s cackle shook the room.

Something hard thwacked his skull.

The world went dark.