Page 37

When I Get a Makeover and a Sword

I wake the next morning feeling refreshed. I hadn’t thought I’d be able to sleep—too many thoughts swirling around in my head. But as promised, we’d been fed—by the same boy who had dealt with the horses. Khaos had been absent, but I’m guessing he needed some space. He must be devastated to discover his brother is dead.

Afterward, we were shown to our rooms. Mine had its own little bathroom, and I’d showered quickly, admiring my scar-free side, then pulled on my grubby t-shirt and panties. I was really looking forward to those clean clothes; I’m starting to smell. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.

I sit up and blink at the bright sunshine filtering through the thin curtains. It’s mid-morning. I get up and pull on my jeans, socks, and boots, then comb my fingers through my tangled hair. And that’s as good as it’s going to get.

Once out of my room, I head back to the kitchen. It’s empty, and the house is quiet. Maybe everyone is still sleeping. My stomach rumbles. Is it rude to help myself? I’m looking around, wondering where to start when there’s a cough from the doorway. It’s Hecate. I stare at her; she looks different this morning. She appears…younger, some of the lines on her face smoothed out. Perhaps she had a good night’s sleep as well. Her hair is no longer in a messy bun but is in a long plait down her back, and the gray is streaked with auburn. She’s also dressed differently, in brown pants and a blue shirt that matches her eyes. In the black dress, she appeared bulky and shapeless. In this outfit, she looks slim, and she moves easily.

“You look well,” I say.

“Thank you. I’ve been in mourning these last years—it drains the energy from you—and now I feel revitalized.”

“In mourning for me?” I ask.

“Who else? I thought I lost you forever, and yet here you are. You’ve given me hope, which is a powerful but dangerous thing. Now we just have to find a way to retrieve your memories. I have a few ideas, but first, breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Sit.”

I sit. “Where are the others?”

“Thanouq has taken Therion to visit some old friends—Therion leaves later today to go and help the slaves you freed. The prince has gone exploring—he has a lot to think about. I believe Zayne is still in bed.”

Sounds like Zayne. “And Winter?”

“Winter has taken herself off for a few days.”

“Will she be safe?”

“If she stays within the wards. And she needs some time alone to come to terms with the changes in her life. She’ll be back.”

I study Hecate as she talks. I’m fascinated by the change from last night. She busies herself around the kitchen, putting a kettle on the range and then various pots. She fetches crusty bread from the larder and butter from some sort of cooler. She cooks onions and mushrooms, adds eggs, and scrambles them. The smell is divine. Finally, she puts a mug of tea and a plate of eggs in front of me, and I help myself to bread and butter. I don’t talk as I eat, just savoring every mouthful. For some reason, food seems to taste better since all this began.

I’ve decided, sometime between waking and now, that I’m going to be optimistic about what’s going on. Things could be much worse. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know stuff. Not directly about me, but about everyone else, too. As usual, I’m overflowing with questions. Finally, when I’ve cleared my plate, I pick up my tea and start. “I know you won’t tell me who I am, but can you tell me other things?”

“Such as?”

“Who everyone else is. I know some things—like Thanouq is heir to a throne here, but why do you call Khaosti a prince? Where is he prince of? How do you know his father, and why do you hate him? Does Lucifer actually exist? Was Khendril a prince as well—”

She laughs and holds up her hand. “Enough. You want to know everything?”

“Yes.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have time for everything, but I can tell you some of the things you want to know. Khaosti is the youngest Prince of Astrali—the Astral Plane. Actually, he’s the only surviving prince, and hence, he’s also heir to the throne. You must have visited there briefly if you came through the mirrors.”

“The in-between place?”

“Yes. His father is Khronus. He’s been king of the Astrali for longer than anyone can remember.” Her expression hardens. “And I hate him because he’s a fucking arrogant murdering asshole.” The language takes me back a little, and she smiles. “It’s true.”

“Well, I suppose Khaosti has to get it from somewhere.”

She laughs at that, and then her expression turns serious. “Prince Khaosti is also Commander of the Wolfpack.”

“And that is?”

“The most bloodthirsty military unit ever to grace the Astral Plane. They suppress insurrection by doing whatever is necessary.”

“Khaosti seems young to be in command.”

“He joined the military when he was twelve and clearly showed a certain aptitude.” I’m guessing she means he was good at killing people. But twelve? He was a child. “He formed the Wolfpack when he was eighteen and became Commander of the whole army when he was twenty-one,” she adds, then studies me with a frown. “I sense an interest in the young prince.”

Interest? Does she mean as in interest ? “Hah. Never going to happen.” But I am curious. “And just how young is he?” I’d always thought he was maybe in his mid-twenties, a few years older than me, but not an undoable age difference. And I can’t believe I just thought that. I do not want to do Khaosti.

She considers her answer. “I believe Prince Khaosti was eleven when Khendril left, which would make him around twenty-seven now. A positive babe in Astrali terms, though I suspect he grew up fast and hard in that household. He’s been commanding the army for six years.”

“That’s probably how he got to be so bossy.”

She smiles. “No doubt. I gather he was close to his half-brother. I bet Khronus wasn’t pleased about that. He believes guardians should keep to their place, and that’s a lot lower down the food chain than princes. Khendril was much older, of course, more a father figure than a brother—I think he was around a hundred when he came to me. Khaosti was the one reason he baulked at helping me. He must have known he could never go back and that he would lose Khaosti forever. I didn’t realize that the feelings went both ways—I hadn’t thought a son of Khronus capable of the softer emotions.” She really does not like this Khronus guy. “He came here looking for Khendril; at least it shows the prince has some level of loyalty. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.”

“So who is he leading the army against?” I ask. “Is he fighting in this war you spoke of?”

“No, the Astrali don’t dirty themselves with our wars—even if they are responsible for them. There has been a civil war raging on Astrali for a thousand years. Not everyone agrees with the way Khronus does things. But he’s been in power so long that most of them know no different.”

“How old is Khronus?”

“I don’t know exactly, but he has been in power for thousands of years.”

“What?” I almost drop my cup. “Thousands? How is that possible?”

She peers at me, one eyebrow raised. “You really do know nothing. Khronus and Prince Khaosti are pure-blood Astrali. They’re essentially immortal, though they can be killed.”

“Was Khendril the same?”

“No, he was a guardian. When the first wars were fought against Lucifer, the guardians were created to protect the people of their worlds. They were half-breeds fathered by the Astrali. They have powers—they can shape-shift and move more freely than the Astrali, at least between their own worlds and the Astral Plane. But they were denied immortality, which is what caused many of the problems. They swear an oath to the Astrali, but Khronus abuses that loyalty and treats them like some sub-species. He takes them for granted, and many of them have taken their loyalty elsewhere with disastrous results.”

“Then Khendril wasn’t a prince?”

“No. None of the guardians inherit titles from their fathers. Okay, you get one last question, then we have work to do.”

I think for a moment. I don’t want to waste my question. “Will Zayne be okay?”

She smiles. “He will be fine. He’s going through a change, that’s all. But he has a strong mind. He’ll come through better than he was before.”

“Good. I think.” That will have to do for now, but I plan to keep a close eye on him.

“What is he to you?” Hecate asks.

“He’s my brother. My foster brother.”

“Hmm, I suspect he has more than brotherly feelings for you.”

I would have vociferously denied it not long ago. Now, it seems like everything is shifting around me. Changing. “So what work do we have to do?” I ask—my turn to change the subject.

“You were trained to fight from an early age. From the best teachers.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, it’s not as though I’ve been going around beating people up for the last three years. “I was? Who was I supposed to fight?” Maybe I’m some kind of warrior for the light. A Chosen One?

She leans across and pats my arm. “You will discover that when you remember.”

I snort. “You hope. But what if it doesn’t happen?”

“You must have faith, Amber. Now let’s go get you some more appropriate clothing. And some weapons.”

I trail her out of the kitchen, along the hallway, to the back of the house.

She disappears into a room, and I follow. Swords hang from the walls, their blades gleaming brightly. And knives, some long, some short, all sharp. I really hope Hecate knows what she’s doing, or I could end up losing a body part.

“Clothes first, I think.”

“Good plan.” I glance down at my T-shirt and jeans. They’re filthy, with holes in the knees. That reminds me of another question.

“The shadowguard? What are they?”

“They are guardians who betrayed their masters. I told you that the Astrali denied the guardians their birthright. Some of them weren’t too happy about that and sold their loyalty to Lucifer in exchange for immortality—something Khronus keeps as a closely guarded secret.”

“So Lucifer is actually a real person? Where did he come from? Is he the same Lucifer they call the devil on Earth?”

“He’s the same. When he was free to move around, he visited both worlds, Valandria and Earth, though to a lesser extent on Earth. And he came from nowhere, or so Khronus would have us believe. More than that, I can’t tell you.”

Can’t or won’t?

The frustration wells up in me again, and she must see something in my face because she continues, “I suspect the shadowguard came to regret their bargain with Lucifer. It’s rumored that the magic used to change them was old magic from before the dawn of this world. Maybe it didn’t work quite as they expected, and they turned into the twisted, evil things you saw. They might live forever, but I doubt they actually want to, and they no doubt yearn for the release of death. Be careful what you wish for and never make a bargain with…” She shrugs and turns to a huge wardrobe, peers inside, then rifles through the clothes, pulling out clean underwear—Yay!—then an outfit. She hands both to me.

Soft suede pants in black. Normally, I never buy anything leather. I don’t like using animals for food or clothing—it always felt wrong to me. But this is a different world. There’s also a black strappy tank top and a jacket in the same suede.

“Go on,” she says. “Try them on.”

She turns away while I kick off my sneakers and strip off my clothes. I pull on the panties first—no bra, but I’ve gotten used to that. Then I tug on the pants; they feel soft and supple, like a second skin, and they fit perfectly. I put on the tank top next, then Hecate hands me a pair of long black leather boots, and I tug them on. I feel... right.

She moves behind me, and I feel her hands in my hair. For a second, I stiffen, but then I force myself to relax. She braids my hair and ties it with a ribbon. Then she takes my shoulders and turns me so I’m facing the tall mirror—an ordinary mirror this time, I presume. Though who knows?

“There. What do you think?” she says.

I look different. Like someone else. But unfortunately, someone else I don’t know. I stare at my face. It looks the same but different—my emerald eyes are brighter. My black hair hangs in a thick braid over my shoulder. I glance behind me in the mirror and meet Hecate’s gaze. There’s a wistful expression in her eyes—a sadness tinged with something else I can’t put my finger on.

“What is it?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “You remind me so much of…” She trails off.

“Who? Who do I remind you of?”

She looks away, then gives a little shrug. “Your father. You have his eyes.”

Shock flares through me. “You knew my father?”

“I did. A long time ago. But I won’t talk of him now.”

But I want to know. I keep the words inside because, although I only met her yesterday, I already know her well enough to be aware that she won’t be swayed by my begging. I sigh and turn away from the mirror. “Just tell me one thing,” I say. “Was he a good man?”

A wistful expression crosses her face. “I always thought him the best of all of us.” She sighs. “Come, let’s find your sword.”

I have a sword?

She steps closer to the wall where all the swords hang, and I don’t need her to tell me which is mine. It calls to me. It draws me in. I reach up to a sword hanging in the center of the wall and touch it reverently. A tingle runs down my arm, through my body, and settles in my heart.

“I see you recognize each other,” she says.

The sword is slightly shorter than most of the others on the wall, which is just as well since I’m guessing I’m more than slightly shorter than the usual people who wield them. The blade is broad, and the hilt is silver inlaid with gold and what looks like a huge emerald. Aw—it matches my eyes.

She takes the sword down, along with the accompanying scabbard, and slides the blade into the sheath. “Its name is Nightfall.”

“Swords have names?”

“Of course. It’s very old and has an illustrious past. Use it well.” She holds it out to me, and I take it. Another shiver of electricity runs through me. She shows me how to fasten the scabbard, so the sword hangs down my back. I reach up, wrap my hand around the hilt, and draw my sword.

And it’s just like when I got on Stella for the first time. This feels right, like I’ve done it many times. I turn slowly back to the mirror.

And I grin.

I look like a total badass.