Page 73 of Tale of the Heart Queen

Rachel still consumed his thoughts, though sometimes he’d look at his bonded partner across the room and wonder if he’d wasted his chance at happiness. Perhaps he’d been too short-sighted in clinging to this idea of a woman who’d left and never looked back.

It had also been decades since he’d seen or heard from her, though she was content to withdraw large sums from the account he’d set up for her. Try as he might, he couldn’t uncover who she was sending to The Aurora to retrieve the gold. Even under pain of death, the moneylender had been unable to identify anyone, saying they always came late, just before closing, their face hooded in shadows.

Rion had stationed guards outside the building, hoping to catch them in action, but the culprit always escaped their surveillance. It made him wonder who Rachel was consorting with to have such resources at her disposal. And then realized it was the very money he was providing that probably had set her up with anything she’d need.

Maybe someday she’d forgive him. Maybe someday they would be together again. But the more years that passed, the more he understood it would never be.

Overhead, ribbons of light rippled in the sky—blue, red, violet. Rion wasn’t a sentimental man by any measure, but something about the sight never failed to move him. In spite of everything, this magic and these lights were part of him, part of his soul, and what made him tick.

After stealing out of the Keep, he emerged from the tree line into a large clearing at the base of a mountain. A twitch tugged at the corner of his mouth. Despite the strength of his Aurora magic, it still wasn’t enough. He recalled those helpless years when he’d been powerless, like a piece of himself had been carved away.

He had read the anguish in Herric’s journals about his desire to create power beyond what the Empyrium had given him. Rion, too, wanted more, but he vowed not to make the same mistakes as the previous Aurora King.

He hadn’t heard the voice in the Torch since he’d forced his father to descend, and there were moments when Rion wondered if he’d imagined the entire thing.

Checking behind him, Rion ducked out of the trees and crossed the clearing. Not that anyone would be following him—he’d found a way to conceal himself using the magic of virulence, making himself invisible to anyone until he was right upon them. It was an added layer of precaution he used on these late-night crusades. He’d discovered the ability before the First Sercen war and used it to conceal his army when he’d snuck up on Serce so many years ago.

Lately, he’d been experimenting with the idea of infusing magic into the rock so that he could impart the abilities of virulence onto others. Such as his soldiers if he needed them to complete tasks when not in his presence. This was proving difficult so far, and he hadn’t yet figured it out. Tonight, he had other plans.

He approached the mountain and laid his hand on the cold surface, channeling out a thread of magic. The mountain shifted, revealing a door and then a staircase carved into the stone winding into the depths.

After they’d uncovered the virulence, Rion had commissioned a small group of low fae to work on a secret chamber where he could experiment without prying eyes. Now he came here regularly to discover what new wonders waited if he could just unlock them from the sparkling black stone.

He wound down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silent chamber. It was dark, but he felt his way down until he was deep enough to cast a light to illuminate his descent. The glowing yellow orb hovered overhead as he wound further down the stairs.

As he went deeper, the sound of voices and activity floated up signaling low fae busy carving out a new section of the cavern. He needed more space to test out his latest theory.

He emerged to find the roof soaring overhead. Along the walls, piles of virulence waited, the black stone glittering in the low torchlight like a hoard of treasure. Only it was so much more valuable than mere jewels.

Every eye in the room swung his way at his entrance, and he regarded them with a stony expression. He wanted them to fear him. He wanted them to know if they ever revealed his secret, he would hunt them down and make them pay in ways they couldn’t even imagine.

“Your Majesty,” said the foreman, Surius, as he shuffled over with hunched shoulders and wringing hands. He was low fae of some variety, with skin like tree bark and long pointed ears sprouting with tufts of white hair. Rion couldn’t be bothered to learn all of their various types. “Everything is ready, as you asked.”

Rion said nothing, just tipped his head and then walked slowly around the room as everyone waited in rigid stillness, hoping to avoid his wrath. What he saw pleased him, which was a welcome, if unexpected, surprise. It was so hard to find good help.

“Excellent,” Rion said. “You’ve done well.”

Rion wasn’t above praise when deserved, but meeting his exacting standards was rare.

He walked over to one of the piles of virulence and picked up a nugget, tossing it in his hand and catching it again in his large palm. Pinching it between two fingers, he held it to the light, studying the sparkle. This had become his favorite sight.

While the virulence worked by channeling magic, Herric had also discovered that by focusing it in specific ways, one could elicit different and far more powerful outcomes. During his reign, he’d kept an eye on the other rulers and the arks and seemed almost amused at the audacity of the first king of Aphelion, Cyrus, who was the studious sort driven by the pursuit of knowledge. Cyrus hadn’t been content to believe everything Herric had told him about the ark and had conducted his own research and experimentation.

In that way, he’d created the warders, imparting their wings, and creating the oath that bound them to their king. Herric’s notes didn’t mention if Cyrus had discovered anything else about the stone, but Herric was confident the Aphelion king would never uncover the full extent of his secrets, residing all the way on the other side of the continent.

Rion had been particularly intrigued by the ability to reshape matter with the right mindset. Herric had suggested that, to a degree, virulence could almost read your mind, feel your emotions, sense your thoughts, and alter your magic in a way that could be very interesting and potentially useful.

“You there,” Rion said, pointing to one of the low fae. She was small, coming only to his waist, with soft pink skin, blue hair, and those ridiculously elongated ears. He thought this one might be a sprite. “Come here.”

The sprite trembled under his gaze, her entire body shaking. Rion gave her a moment to gather herself. She was right to be afraid, but in a few moments it wouldn’t matter, if things went the way he hoped.

He stared at her until she found her courage and then tiptoed over, her hands clasped in front of her heart. With her big dark eyes, she looked up at him and said, “Your Majesty?” It came out as a breathless squeak.

“What is your name?” Rion asked. He didn’t really care what her name was, but for some reason, asking seemed to ease their apprehension. Perhaps they believed he wouldn’t hurt them if he knew it. Perhaps in a better man that might be true, but Rion had never had such compunctions.

“I am Lily,” she said, sounding a bit more confident now.

“Lily, you’re going to help me with something very important today,” Rion said. “Would you be willing?”