Blood of the Exiled (Witch Fairy Book 10) (26 page)

BOOK: Blood of the Exiled (Witch Fairy Book 10)
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“So did
I
,” Gunnar says.

 

Out of the blue, Aiden turns to Grandpa.
 
“Everything your granddaughter told us was true?”

 

Taken aback by the sudden switch in topic, it takes my grandfather a minute to answer.
 
Finally, he says, “From what I heard her say, her recounting was accurate.”
 
Aiden doesn’t say anything else.
 
He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the wall, contemplating the older man.

 

“Why are you being honest now?” Kallen asks.
 
My thoughts exactly.

 

Seeming to grow smaller, like all the air inside of him has escaped him, my grandfather says.
 
“I am dying.
 
I don’t want to take such secrets to the grave.”

 

Is he serious?
 
“Dying?”

 

He nods once.
 
“Cancer.”

 

Kallen looks at me with a creased brow.
 
“What is cancer?”

 

My turn to have a creased brow.
 
“Fairies don’t get cancer?”

 

“If we do, we do not call it by that name.”

 

“Sire, does anyone else know?” Gunnar asks.

 

Grandpa shakes his head.
 
“No.”

 

“Are you getting treatment?”

 

Grandpa shakes his head again.
 
“No.”

 

Hands on my hips, I ask, “Are you an idiot?”

 

A wry smile forms on his lips.
 
“Always.”

 

I don’t like him vulnerable.
 
It’s harder to hate him this way.
 
“Why haven’t you sought treatment?” I ask.

 

“The cancer has metastasized.
 
It is everywhere.”

 

“This is not something which can be cured?” Kallen asks
,
reminding me that I haven’t explained what cancer is yet.

 

“Yes and no,” I say.
 
“It depends on the type of cancer and how far it has spread.”
 
Turning back to my grandfather, I suddenly find myself very angry.
 
“What were you planning on doing?
 
Were you going to just let things fall to the hands of Fatin or Sylar after you die?
 
Do you know what will happen to your Kingdom if you do?”

 

A sound comes from Grandpa’s general direction.
 
It sounds like a whispered, “Yes.”

 

I can’t stand to be in the same room with this man any longer.
 
Spinning on my heels, I walk out of his bedroom.
 
I’m not sure where I’m going, but anywhere will be better than here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why?
 
Why do I say things like that to myself?
 
I know that it makes the universe laugh at me and prove me wrong.
 
There are worse places to be at the moment besides my grandfather’s room.
 
As soon as I turn a corner in the hall I’m in one of them.

 

Sylar is throwing what appears to be a temper tantrum in the hall.
 
Mohana and Fatin are trying to calm her but to no avail.
 
Sylar reaches out and scratches Mohana’s face when the other Witch tries to touch her.
 
If I had a pair of shiny red shoes, I’d be clicking them together and saying, ‘there’s no place like home,
there’s
no place like home’.

 

“I will not calm down!
 
There is a murderer among us and I am going to find out who it is!” Sylar is shouting.

 

“Your way of finding out could leave us all vegetables,” Fatin snarls.

 

Sylar looks at him like she would a squashed bug on a windshield.
 
“It is not my fault if your mind is weak,” she snarls.
 
She whips around to Mohana.
 
“I will start with you.”

 

Instantly, Mohana has her head between her hands and she drops to her knees.
 
Pain is etched into lines on her face.
 
Feeling the magic in the air, and seeing that Sylar’s lips are moving, I can figure out what’s going on.
 
Sylar is sucking Mohana’s mind out.

 

Yea, someone to take my anger and disgust out on.
 
I know that’s the wrong way to think about this situation, but I don’t care.
 
A burst of magic flies up from the earth and it leaves me in a heartbeat.
 
Sylar is lifted from the ground and slammed into the wall behind her where I hold her still.
 
The impact was enough to make her stop what she was doing and Mohana crumples to the floor.

 

“How much did you take?” I ask Sylar.
 
“I want to know because that’s how much of your mind I’m going to take.”

 

A strong, firm hand grasps mine.
 
I don’t have to look, I know
it’s
Kallen.
 
“What is happening here?” he asks.

 

“They’re starting to cannibalize one another.”

 

Kallen nods sagely.
 
“Good times.”

 

I can’t help but laugh, and when I do, my anger begins to dissolve.
 
I lower Sylar to the ground but I still hold her in place.
 
“Give it back,” I tell her.

 

                                                                                                                                           

 

After a contemptuous glance in my direction, Sylar focuses her attention on Mohana.
 
I feel magic in the air again and Mohana gasps as her mind becomes whole again.
 
Her anger is far from dissolving.
 
Before Mohana can retaliate for being turned into a drooling, mindless idiot for a minute, a blood curdling scream echoes through the halls.

 

“Divina?”
Mohana says, rising to her feet.
 
She, Fatin and Sylar race off in the direction of the scream and Kallen and I follow.

 

The Witches stop in front of an open door several yards down the hall.
 
Inside, Divina is sitting on the ground hugging a bloody body to her.
 
I’m pretty sure the bloody body is Beren, but there’s so much blood I can’t tell for sure.

 

I push through the Witches gaping from the doorway and crouch down next to Divina.
 
“What happened?”

 

“They killed him,” she sobs and releases her hold on the other Witch slightly.
 
Now I can see the knife protruding from his chest around the place his heart would be.

 

“Who killed him?”
 
While I speak, I place two fingers on his throat and feel for a pulse.
 
To my great relief, there is a faint one.

 

“I…I don’t know,” Divina gasps, sobbing too hard to catch her breath.

 

I look back to Kallen.
 
“If you can help with Divina, I think I can save him.”

 

“No!” Sylar snarls.
 
“He needs a doctor, someone who cares if he lives or dies.”

 

I’m dumbfounded.
 
“You want to explain to the ER docs why he has a knife sticking out of his chest?
 
I don’t think they’ll buy that he just fell on it.”

 

“We cannot move him,” Kallen says.
 
“His injuries are too great.
 
Xandra is the only one who can help him now.”

 

“Please,” Divina’s eyes are red and desperate.
 
“Please save him.”

 

I look to Kallen again and he comes closer.
 
Sliding his arm around Divina, he helps me get her out of my way so I can
lie
Beren flat on the floor.
 
I lay my hand on Beren’s chest and close my eyes.
 
Sending my magic through him, gently at first, I search for his injuries.
 
I can see his heart in my mind and the place where the knife nicked it.
 
I begin healing him from his heart outward.
 
I must do this slowly, I can’t make a mistake.
 
I imagine the walls of his heart whole again,
then
I repair his left lung, his sternum, and finally, his skin.
 
As I do this, the knife moves out of his chest until it clatters to the floor.
 
Beren awakens with a gasp.

 

Kallen can’t restrain Divina any longer.
 
She scrambles to Beren and tries to wrap her arms around him again, sobbing even louder now, but he holds her at arm’s length.
 
His voice full of betrayal, he says, “You stabbed me.”
 
He looks down at his bloody chest and then back to Divina.
 
“You tried to kill me.”

 

“What?
 
No!” Divina cries.
 
“I came in and you were lying on the floor.
 
I thought you were dead.”
 
I thought she was bad before, she’s beyond hysterical now.

 

Beren pushes her away from him and scrambles backwards.
 
“I saw you.
 
You were right in front of me.
 
I felt you plunge the knife into me.”

 

Speaking over Divina’s hysterics, Kallen says, “It was not her.
 
You were only made to believe it was.”

 

Beren’s disbelief is colored all over his face in permanent marker.
 
“I know what I saw.”

 

“We believe it was a Skin Walker,” I explain.
 
“Someone who can transform into other people.”
 
I look back to Kallen.
 
“Do you think it could be the same one who tried to kill my grandfather?”

 

“There was an attempt on the King’s life?” Fatin demands to know.
 

 

“I just said that,” I say, not in the mood for dealing with him.
 
“Why don’t you go check on
him.

 

Outraged, he says, “You left him alone?
 
What shape was he in?
 
What are these Skin Walkers you speak of?”

 

I stand up to face him.
 
“I have no desire to play twenty questions with you.
 
If you want to know how he is, go see for yourself.
 
Kallen and I need to find the Skin Walker or whoever it is before it tries to kill any more of us.”
 
I’m tempted to say that I wouldn’t mind letting it have a go at him and Sylar, but I hold back.
 
By the look on his face, I guess I didn’t hold back.
 
How do words escape my mouth without me even realizing it?

 

Dismayed, Fatin says, “You would let it kill us?”

 

I cock my head to the side.
 
“Would you blame me?”

 

Fatin’s Adam’s apple moves up and down like he just took a large gulp of something as he ponders my question.
 
In amazement, he finally says, “You have all that power yet you will let us die.”

 

Oh. My.
God.
 
“Are all Witches cowards?” I spit out.
 
“You guys are supposed to be the most powerful among your kind and you want to hide behind me?!
 
The person you want to see dead so badly you ambushed my house and tried to exercise my parents?
 
You can’t have it both ways, Fatin.
 
You can’t hate me and want to kill me one minute and then want me to be your savior the next.
 
Man up, save yourselves!”
 
Would I let the Skin Walkers kill him or Sylar or any of the Witches if I could stop it?
 
No.
 
I am not going to tell him that, though.
 
Let him stew in his own juices for a while.

 

“Xandra,” Kallen says.
 
“We should rouse the others to help in our search.”
 

 

His timing is perfect.
 
I spin around and walk out the door leaving behind five stunned Witches.
 

 

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