Taliesin Ascendant (The Children and the Blood) (16 page)

Cole stared as the woman spun away, her chest heaving with horrified fury. For a moment, he wondered if she seriously believed the knowledge of their location would be tattooed across his forehead, or if she was just that narcissistically paranoid.

And then he realized it was probably both.

“You
abandoned
us,” he told her. “You left while Taliesin–”

“Oh, please,” Florence replied disgustedly. “We abandoned no one.”

“Taliesin is only worthy of consideration if they learn our location,” Magnus explained. “And Merlin can easily attend to any ‘threat’ those upstarts may try to pose without the placation of knowing our whereabouts.”

Cole wanted to laugh, though he wasn’t sure why. “Wait,
Merlin
doesn’t even know where you are?”

“Our location is immaterial to them,” Magnus said calmly. “King Patrick has this little uprising well in hand, for all that those fools would like to call this some kind of ‘war’. It is only a matter of time till our forces subdue the troublemakers. And in the interim, we’ve simply taken steps to ensure that any Taliesin reprobates who desire to endanger our invaluable history will believe the records destroyed – a falsification we are determined to keep in place. After all, we have a duty to uphold.”

“This nonsense was a foregone conclusion before it even began,” Florence added derisively. “There’s no need to risk irreplaceable artifacts simply because some Taliesin nitwits actually thought they could win a war against
Merlin
.”

She scoffed, shaking her head.

He blinked, trying to put words to his rage. “You… those ‘nitwits’ killed your
daughter
! They left her bleeding to death all alone and you just–”

“She brought that on herself!” Florence hissed furiously.

He stopped, struck speechless by the hate staring him in the face.

“Clarinda was always headstrong,” Magnus continued for his wife. “Never listening. Never respecting the duty we held. Even as a teenager, she sullied her legacy, obstinately involving herself in everything from Taliesin reconciliation programs to cripple aid projects. She never appreciated that, as the preeminent minds of our people, our responsibility has always been to uphold the purity and honor of Merlin. Her brothers understood that and tried to stop her. We all tried to stop her. It only stands to reason that her poor choices ended her in the position that they did.”

Magnus glanced to Florence as the woman made an inarticulate noise.

“He called himself a
king
,” she sneered, spite twisting through her expression like a snake. “King of
Taliesin
, as though that’s anything to advertise. And she married him anyway. Took her heritage and just ground it into the mud. And look what it got her. Murdered like a common human, and where were her dear king’s guards? Guess he wasn’t so royal after all. And her only child was a cripple. Though that last was practically predictable. You can’t expect a mutt not to have difficulties.”

Magnus shrugged his eyebrows, agreeing.

Cole stared. His heart was pounding. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d drawn a breath. Muscles jumped in his arms and he wasn’t sure what he’d say even if he could speak.

“Oh, you act all indignant,” Florence told him. “But you know nothing of the sacrifices we’ve made. These conditions are nothing short of reprehensible for the priceless works we’re laboring to preserve, and without our constant attention, any number could be lost forever.”

“People are dying,” Cole whispered, barely able to keep from smashing his fist through the nearest case. “And you sit here in your
palace–”

“It is
hardly
that,” Florence said, affronted.

“History is filled with sacrifices for the greater good,” Magnus explained. “But jeopardizing the memory of those sacrifices by losing the records that they ever occurred is simply unconscionable.”

“We think of more than the mutable present,” Florence added superciliously. “Perhaps you should do the same, if you possess the capability.”

Cole drew a ragged breath. “We’re leaving,” he said, glancing to the doors. Three wizards stood on the patio, watching the lawn and the house equally.

“No,” Florence corrected. “You are staying. And if you wish us to allow you to keep that,” she gestured to Lily as though motioning to a mess on the floor, “you will do so graciously. We will provide less sullied clothing,” she sniffed at their bloodstained clothes, “though I expect you to do better in keeping the replacements clean. Your uncles will have charge of watching you, and you will be given quarters on the top floor where you’ll run the least risk of disturbing our work. Understand?”

Cole’s brow furrowed, and then she gestured to the men behind him.

“Geoffrey and Alfred,” the woman explained. “Your mother’s brothers. I believe your uncle Bernhard is storing what remains of your truck in the garage. Also, your mother’s cousins help us in our work, as does her aunt, Louise. You will stay out of their way unless instructed.”

“And you will call your employer, Mr. Summers,” Magnus added. “Tell him you quit.”

“The hell I will.”

Magic flickered around the older man. “Or the human is gone. Which would you prefer?”

At Cole’s silence, Magnus gestured to the two men. Geoffrey grabbed his shoulder and Alfred sneered at the warning look Cole gave him as the man reached for Lily.

“Relax, nephew,” Alfred said sarcastically. “We’re not taking your pet. Yet.”

“Do keep it confined to your room, though,” Florence said. “I won’t have some human running around, putting its filthy hands on–”

Cole couldn’t take any more. Pulling Lily with him, he shrugged off Geoffrey’s grip and started for the patio, only to be brought up short by Alfred’s smirking face.

Magic crackled around Geoffrey as the man snagged his shoulder again. “Nice try, brat.”

Forcibly, he wrenched Cole’s arm behind his back and then he shoved him around. Alfred bent, grabbing the little girl and hefting her up.

“What’re you–” Cole started.

“Shut it,” Geoffrey ordered. With a push, he drove Cole after Alfred toward the rest of the house.

Endless rooms filled with books surrounded them till, a small eternity later, they finally reached a stairway. Thick railings of polished wood swept down on either side of the massive staircase and dense carpet absorbed their footsteps as they climbed. Wide halls stretched away from the landings they passed, and dozens of closed doors blocked access to the rooms beyond. On the fifth floor, Alfred turned, taking Lily and leaving Geoffrey to follow.

By a door at the end of the hall, Alfred released Lily and then smirked as the girl rushed immediately to Cole. Ignoring the display, Geoffrey shoved Cole aside and then tugged a keychain from his pocket. Swiftly, he flipped through the keys and then inserted one into the lock.

Crates filled the room. As with the rest of the house, paintings covered the walls, though these were clearly not as loved as those downstairs. A gray patina of dust coated the frames and stained pictures. Gesturing sharply, Geoffrey stepped back to let them enter the room.

Expressionless, Cole eyed the man before walking inside. “Where are we supposed to sleep?” he asked, glancing around the crowded space.

“Louise will bring blankets. In the meantime…” Geoffrey pulled Cole’s cell phone from his pocket. “Call your boss.”

Watching the two wizards, Cole reached for the phone.

Geoffrey pulled it back. “And if you even
try
to hint for him to come up here…” He glanced to Lily illustratively.

Cole took the cell. His eyes still on Geoffrey, he thumbed the number and then raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, Ben,” he said flatly. “It’s Paul.”

Alfred scoffed.

“Paul? Where are you? Redmond called to say he hadn’t seen you yet. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, we’re fine.”

He fell silent.

“Paul? You still there?”

“I’m here. Look… turns out Redmond’s a relative.”

Geoffrey’s eyes went wide and he lunged for the phone. Stepping back swiftly, Cole talked faster. “We’re fine. We’ll be back when we can.”

He hung up.

“You little son of a–”

“He wouldn’t believe I’d just quit. He’d have been up here himself to find out why.”

Snatching the phone back, Geoffrey glared. “You’ll pay for that.”

The man glanced to Lily, who shrank behind Cole.

“You want him up here poking around,” Cole argued, “by all means, make me quit. He thinks we want to stay at the farm as long as possible, so if I just bail on him out of nowhere, he’ll know something’s up.” He paused. “I’m saving you trouble.”

Geoffrey studied him for a heartbeat. “I so much as see a truck I don’t recognize on that road, your pet is dead, you get me?”

With a final dark look to them both, he motioned to Alfred and then stalked away as the other man slammed the door.

Closing his eyes briefly, Cole sighed. He glanced down at Lily and then grimaced at the sight of her cheek. “You okay?”

She shrugged half-heartedly.

“Here, let me see that.”

He reached over, taking her chin gently and turning her face to one side. Alfred’s hand had caught her straight across the cheekbone and the redness still hadn’t faded.

“You’re one tough kid,” he told her.

She gave him a small smile “You too,” she said, motioning shyly to the bruise he could feel forming on his own face. She blushed. “Or… I mean… not a kid, but… you know.”

Cole tried to grin in response, though the expression felt mostly fake and died within a second of being formed. Tough wasn’t the word he’d use to describe himself right now, given that they were stuck here and he hadn’t been able to stop the wizards from almost taking Lily. Countless other words came to mind, however, none of which were fit for a kid’s ears. Struggling to cover his discomfort, he turned away, studying the room again.

“What’re we going to do?” Lily asked quietly.

He didn’t answer. His gaze was locked on one of the paintings, seeing the picture clearly now that the wizards weren’t breathing down their necks.

It was an image of Merlin.

No one had described the man to him, but it didn’t matter. The godlike aspect of the subject was enough indication. Holding a glowing staff aloft, the radiant figure stood on a cliff and gazed into the heavens like a latter day Moses, while below him hordes of grotesque Taliesin cowered and scrambled over one another to escape his sight. A pair of regal-looking wizards kneeled at his flanks, their upturned faces bathed in rapturous awe and their hands raised in worship of their triumphant wizard king.

Cole thought he was going to be sick.

They believed they were gods, that much was clear. All of them, Merlin and Taliesin alike. And the Carnegeans…

He couldn’t think past the anger that came roaring up inside. They’d run. They’d left him. His family. His mother. And they didn’t even care. They sat here in their mansion, blathering on about sacrifice and suffering and…

“Cole…” Lily said worriedly.

He realized he couldn’t feel his fingers for clenching his fists so hard. Closing his eyes again, he forced himself to breathe, working to calm down when all he wanted was to rip the painting in front of him into confetti. Their image of their god, made so they could worship their supposed superiority and their victory over…

Dad.

His thoughts came to a stop at the memory of Florence’s acidic words. King. King of Taliesin. Victor told Clara he was king of Taliesin.

And the council had taken Cole after killing them both in cold blood.

Shaking, he sank down onto one of the crates.

His parents had lived in a rundown apartment on the edge of a neighborhood most folks avoided after dark. They’d barely been making it, though they’d done the best they could. He’d known his parents’ families had disowned them out of disapproval of their marriage, but that’d been the end of it.

And his father had been king of Taliesin.

The council murdered their own king.

“Cole?” Lily asked again.

His father had been a king of wizards.

Apprehensively, Lily reached over, putting a hand on his arm. Inhaling sharply, he glanced down at the girl.

“What’re we going to do?” she repeated.

Releasing a breath, he tried to focus. She was right. They needed a plan. Or something. Pushing away from the crate, he crossed to the narrow window and looked down at the lawn.

Wizards patrolled the yard. Between the branches of the trees, he could see several of the plethora of security cameras surrounding the property, their small black forms turning in lazy arcs as they surveyed every square inch of the grounds. Of his truck, there was no sign, though it was probably destroyed and Florence said Bernhard had taken it anyway. But if there were other vehicles nearby, they weren’t anywhere he could see.

Frustration welled up in him again, and he fought it back down. It wasn’t helpful and it wouldn’t get them out of here.

He turned away from the window, knowing there was only one answer he could give.

“We’re leaving,” he said. “First chance we get.”

Ashe leaned away from the notebook, her head throbbing in time to her heartbeat. The words were burned on the backs of her eyelids, flickering in unintelligible patterns of light every time she blinked. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t see them clearly. She already knew them by heart.

Four months of research and training. More like four decades. She could scarcely believe that less than half a year ago, she’d been living on a farm, without words like portals and bindings and magical transference as a part of her daily vocabulary. Now every day was comprised of waking up to the prospect of more studying and training, all under the guise of ending a war she hadn’t known existed a year prior.

And ostensibly ruling the people on one side of that war, though the idea of being a queen still felt like a bad joke.

She saw this room in her dreams now, more than the nightmares of Lily and her father dying, more than the memories of Carter bleeding to death in an alley. The worst were the nights she dreamt she’d found the answer, and the binding spell to hold all of Taliesin and the Blood was finally in her grasp. The elation at the thought she could finally end this was almost too wonderful to bear, and she’d wake with a smile on her face, only to realize none of it’d been real.