AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I look at him, broken and bloody, beaten and bruised, but full of light and hope and care for me. I slide my finger across his cheekbone, wincing at the bumps I find below it.
“Why didn’t you just fight him with magic?” I wonder, unable to form the words for a response to his impassioned speech.
He chuckles. “Autumn magic is not known as an offensive or battle magic like Winter and Summer. Unless I wanted to decay my brother, I was stuck with just my own brute strength. And I’m sure we can both agree my brother is the clear winner on that front.”
I look down at the planes of Mace’s chest and smile. He’s not wrong. Zeph is broad-shouldered with thick arms and legs, and his chest looks carved from stone. Conversely, Mace possesses a quiet strength, with long, smoothly muscled limbs and a soft chest. He’s fit, but not overly, more like a fisherman. I can even picture him on a deck, throwing nets. The idea brings a chuckle to my throat, and Mace looks at me with a questioning smile.
“I was just imagining you as a fisherman,” I say.
He, too, laughs at this, his hand bracing his injured side. “I’m unsure why you would picture that, but I do not think I would be of much use on a boat.”
Chapter 45
Mace
WhoknewallIhad to do to get Viola to speak to me without venom in her voice was to get brutally beaten?
Not to say I would’ve gone and picked a fight, but I suppose there is an upside to the pain I’m in.
After leaving Viola once the sun rose, insisting I was okay and recovered enough, I sought out Plume. Despite her relationship with my brother, she is well known for her healing abilities, and I badly needed help.
Plume meets me in the Palace library, one of my favorite places in the city. I have always felt at home among the books. The smell of the parchment and dust has been a comfort to me since I was a small child. “Goodness, Mace. What happened?” she asks, hands turning my face to get a good look at the damage.
I briefly consider not telling her the truth but decide my brother doesn’t deserve my loyalty. “Zeph attacked me.”
Plume winces. “I’m worried about him.”
I look at the woman with curiosity. “I would’ve thought you would side with him.” She gently pushes my shoulders down until I sit in the oversized leather chair.
She fusses over me, unbuttoning my shirt to see the damage on my torso. She closes her eyes when she seems satisfied that she has all the information she needs. Before setting her intentions, she says, “I love Zeph, but I do not agree with the path he’s going down. He’s so volatile and drinking so much now.”
Her hands, resting gently on my chest, push a feeling of warmth through me. It’s akin to lying in a meadow. I can feel the healing properties stitch my busted lip, pulling the bruises from my face and mending my broken ribs and nose.
Quicker than imagined, she’s done, pantomiming, dusting her hands off. “There. Good as new.”
Plume has always fascinated me. As a Spring Seasonale, she has access to their full complements of magic, but I’ve rarely seen her do anything other than command beasts and heal. Spring magic has so much power available, yet she limits herself.
“Plume, can I ask a question?” She tilts her head. I’ve always been fond of her unique beauty. Her mouth is like a little bow, puckered and plush. She exudes warmth and comfort from her very being. Her soft curves hint at a virility that does not surprise me, considering Spring magic can include fertility enhancements.
“I was just wondering when the last time you reanimated someone was.”
She bites her lip in concentration. “Goodness, it’s been a bit. I think most recently was when we had a suspicious death in the hospital. I wanted to know what killed the poor thing.”
Well, isn’t that curious?
“What happened?”
“A young girl, no more than twenty, had been attacked. She was covered with cuts and slashes. She was almost ripped to shreds. Just awful. Her lover found her and rushed her in. He begged me to bring her back so he could bring her killer to justice.”
“What did she say?”
Pain flashes across Plume’s face. “It was a difficult reanimation. Sometimes, souls don’t want to come back, even for a brief moment. But when she came back, she just screamed. No words. Just a loud, ear-splitting screech. It horrified all of us, of course, and I pushed her soul out quicker than I normally would to get it to stop. The lover was devastated, of course.”
For centuries, our Spring fae have kept the magical beasts under control. As our magic wanes, we are increasingly losing control of them. That poor girl must’ve fallen victim to it.
With a chaste kiss on my cheek, Plume turns to leave. “Plume, wait.” She looks at me over her shoulder. “Keep an eye on Zeph. I’m worried he’s going to do something desperate.”
I find Viola in the courtyard, a large tome resting on her lap. She looks genuinely happy. I wonder how many moments of relaxing joy she’s had in her life. It must be few from what I know of her childhood.
