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NEO

Z ula was gone.

Neo clenched and unclenched his fists, recalling Diana’s warning about her. It was his fault she’d run away. He shouldn’t have kissed her, shouldn’t have let the overflow of his heart seep into his actions. He was the sheriff, after all, a prince. He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. Yet he had.

Either way, Zula wouldn’t have gotten far, not with that foot. He made one more sweep of the masquerade, the laughter and music a hollow echo in his mind. His mother loved throwing parties and she excelled at it. She also had a knack for ensuring they didn’t devolve into drunken disasters, although there were always a few who got carried away. Never Hans, though, the crown prince that he was. Despite the women who threw themselves at him for his looks and position, he never once stooped. Diana was a different story; she often gave in, yet as the crown’s persuader, she usually had a political maneuver and blackmail to hold over the individual.

Power—they all had it, but how they handled their power made all the difference.

Something stirred in his chest, a familiar scent. Her. That was new, perhaps because he’d kissed her.

Neo’s magic was simple. When he focused on one singular goal, he could accomplish it, no matter what. Often it was to find those on the wrong side of the law, not petty thieves whose actions would bring about long-term consequences that affected his family. His family that he loved dearly.

Footsteps quickening, he found his way down into the underbelly of the palace. It wasn’t a nice place, all dark and cold, pale lamps lighting the way. But it led to tunnels, where escape could be made if needed. It also led to one of the larger treasuries. A small treasury was kept on each floor, but the largest one was near the escape route. He wanted to believe Zula could change, but her actions proved otherwise. Diana was right.

He found her in one of the caverns, leaning on a stick. A pool of torchlight lit her from behind. She glanced over her shoulder. There was something peculiar about her, and Neo wondered where she’d gotten the stick. The torchlight revealed little, but he thought her face might be smudged with tears. Her gown smelled faintly of the jungle, of mud and dirt. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the door frame, watching her. Afraid.

Zula stood still, her back to him, a raw undertone in her voice when she spoke. “I came down here looking for my ukulele. It’s broken, but it’s all I have. If you want me to find the stolen relics, you have to fix it. I know you’re immune to it. I don’t know why, but perhaps I would have understood if I’d fully listened back when I made the deal.”

His chest went tight. “What kind of deal did you make?”

“It was some witch who lived deep in the jungle. That’s where I grew up, not far from troll territory. Back then it was a bigger trade route, the merchants ferrying goods back and forth. That’s how I started, and I left the peacock feathers so that no one would blame the theft on trolls. Young as I was, I had an inkling of the political chaos it would create, and I wanted peace. I wanted my home. And then I got caught.”

Neo drew in a deep breath. She was confiding in him. Was it a trick to make him relax? Or was it something else? He waited, not saying anything.

Zula let out a sigh, then continued. “I was blindfolded, gagged, and when they released me I was in the home of a witch. She wore rags, had black fingertips, and from the rafters hung plants and . . . ” Zula shuddered. “Body parts of animals, not the kind that anyone would eat, but hearts, livers, lungs, that sort of thing. She spent a long time talking about her collection. I thought she was lonely until she revealed she was angry with me for stealing from the merchants. Because I always stole from the same spot, the same road, my actions would draw attention to the hidden part of the jungle, and she didn’t want that. She’d lived in secret for a long time, and she was so old, I could understand not wanting to be found. I often felt the same way. Since I had my ukulele, she offered me a gift, claiming the magic would work until I found my heart’s desire. At least, I believe that’s what she said, but I can’t be sure, because the next words I’ll never forget. She cursed me. Said that stealing was what I wanted to do and so steal I would. With the magical ukulele, I’d set forth on my purpose. I’d have everything I never had: fame, wealth, riches, and no need to worry about my future.”

“Why did you agree to work for her?” Neo asked.

“Because she threatened to kill my father, to take everything I cherished and turn it to dust. If I said no, I’d become her slave in that horrible, horrible place. She’d even found my father and tortured him a bit to make me say yes. I did everything she asked of me, and I enjoyed it. I got good at it, and lax because of the ukulele. People treated me like royalty. This was my last heist. I suspect because when my father dies, she’ll have nothing to hold over me, and I want him to pass in peace. He never liked what I became, even though I tried to keep it from him. But I didn’t complete the heist. The trolls have their treasure and I’ve been caught. I have to make it right in three days or my father will suffer.”

Neo was quiet. Listening. It sounded like a far-fetched tale, but it also sounded like the truth, especially with the pain he heard in Zula’s voice. The answer felt clear. Find her father and bring him under the protection of the crown, but the other knowledge was frightening. A witch’s curse was full of dark magic, strong and powerful, magic that could not easily be destroyed.

Revelation coursed through Neo’s mind like a lightning bolt. His mother’s tale was true. The mass of magic she’d felt was the witch, collecting all the relics, one by one. Was it possible for her to take the magic and make it her own? Zula was a pawn in the game, after all, which meant Neo had to find her father before he paid the price.

He closed his eyes and thought of his niece, and the rage that filled his soul at the very idea of anything happening to her. He wondered if that was how Zula felt.

“You’re telling me this because you want my help,” he confirmed.

“Yes, and because you care.”

There was a tremor in her voice, ever so slight, but it encouraged him. He placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. “Does this mean you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Zula,” he sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? We’re in deep trouble now.”

Zula brushed her lips with her fingers. “Earlier I thought I could still win. And that was before you kissed me.”

Incredulous, Neo drank in her expression, her words. It was true: one kiss had changed everything.