Many, many years ago, a disagreement between the royal house of witches split the coven into two royal lineages, House Cambridge and House Montgomery. The rivalry between the two covens caused bloodshed, tore families apart and divided the country. Those without magic were forced to choose a side and became casualties of a war where no one would be victorious.
The armies of House Cambridge and House Montgomery clashed over and over again, leaving bodies of the innocent in their wake. Only those with the strongest of magic survived. Thunder boomed and lightening ripped through the skies. The gods did not favor the war and took matters into their own hands.
When a royal prince of House Montgomery struck down a favored child of one of the human encampments, the dying girl cried out, using the magic that saturated the air, and the seeping blood made the curse so much more binding.
Both of your houses will never know peace. You will know nothing but sorrow. Only when love is possible, will you all be set free.
The gods heard the cry of the dying girl and accepted her blood sacrifice.
Time passed by, and the houses still warred.
The young girl's curse was all but forgotten.
Until now.
En Garde!
The warning cry rang out as I heaved another sigh, already bored with today’s training session. I never fully understood why Father wanted me to learn to wield a sword, when my magic would be the thing that swayed a fight. After all, I was the only child of the eldest son of the head of the Montgomery witches; my magic was limitless.
Summoning the wind that blew a gentle breeze across my skin, the overly long strands of my hair falling into my face, I dangled my sword in the air, closing my eyes to the clash of metal as one of my best friends, Tobias, grunted, dodging the blade as it toyed with him. Inside my mind, I could see Tobias clear as water, striking left and right, but unable to stand up to the might of magic and metal.
Julian!
My father’s voice dragged a sense of dread through me, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand to attention. Instantly, I opened my eyes, releasing the control I had over the wind and reached out my hand to clasp the hilt of the blade. Knowing that my father watched me did nothing to ease the tension coiled inside me, for war was coming and we Montgomerys were a bloodthirsty bunch, apparently.
Tobias gave me a small smile, inclining his head just a tad before he came at me. If it came down to a sword-on-sword fight, Tobias would out maneuver me within minutes. A magical dud, a Null, a person who comes from a magical line yet fails to have any in their blood, Tobias had proven himself to be indispensable with weapons, and it was predicated he would be my army’s general, when I became head of the family that is.
That thought was enough to distract me, and sure enough, Tobias did something applause worthy with his feet, and my back hit the sand with enough force to wring a groan from me as pain blossomed in my back. Blowing out a breath, I pushed the stray strands of hair from my face and lashed out with my magic. Not much, but I sculpted a hand out of the grains of sand, reached out and yanked Tobias down by the ankle.
Tobias met the same fate as I, yet he convulsed with laughter. Taking a few moments, Tobias nip-upped, reaching out a hand to help me up. When we were both on our feet, we spared a glance in my father’s direction. He scowled at our boyish behavior. When I was younger, I wondered if I was even Malcolm Montgomery’s child, for we looked naught alike. I had my mother’s fair hair, a coppery gold sort of color that Tobias teased me would have looked better on a girl. My father was dark haired with pale features and a hard face that came from years of leadership. He was battle worn, judging by the scars on his arms and torso. He had these dark, dark eyes that were not quite brown… but not black either.
My eyes were a royal blue, according to my mother, and my skin held a tinge of tan from days playing in the desert sand. One night, when my father had a drop too much to drink, he told me that it was due to my mother’s tainted bloodline, that her family had once been part of the Nulls, or human colonies, that divided up the two lands. The next morning, he pretended the words had never fallen from his lips, yet I always remembered.
Tobias stood next to me, hands clasped behind his back, feet slightly apart; the perfect soldier stance. I sheathed my sword into the strap on my back and boldly faced my father.
Julian, you will never stay alive when the war comes if you continue to shirk your lessons.
The war has been coming since I was a boy, Father. I’m pretty sure I will be an old man, and we will still be awaiting the war.
A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, the only indication that my father was angered by my words. The Montgomery witches controlled the elements in varying degrees. My father could control the weather, while I could manipulate the elements, like creating a hand from the grains of sand that suffocated our desert home or forcing the air to hold my sword.
With a sharp turn, my father vanished from the balcony he had been standing upon as Tobias nudged me with his shoulder. Damn, Jules, you will do just about anything to piss him off.
I grinned at Tobias. Sure, why would I need to defend myself if I have the coven’s best swordsman at my side? If you fall in battle, if someone has the audacity to strike you down, then I’m dead anyway.
Tobias made to reply, pausing when a group of young women our age came out of the schoolhouse, giggling once they spotted me and Tobias, their eyes wandering over us as they passed by.
Hi, Tobias. Hey, Julian.
Tobias bowed at the waist and rolled out his arm in a sweeping gesture. Ladies, we are honored to be noticed by such beautiful women. Come, spare a thought for us. We are sore from sparring and need a kiss to strengthen us.
The girls burst into fits of laughter, as my face heated. I had never been good around girls, and no matter how many times Tobias had dragged me to one party or another, I usually slipped away when my cheeks flamed at a suggestion or two. Tobias, more often than not, was surrounded by woman at these parties. I heard the women speaking about Toby, his rich hazel eyes and mahogany colored hair, skin tanned from the desert sun, much like most of our kin, and a smile that promised mischief. They spoke of how a man as good looking as Toby could not be as dangerous as the stories that were told. But Toby was dangerous, even for someone with no magic.
As was the man who strode toward then, the woman breaking apart to let Mercuree pass by.
My other best friend, Mercuree, got his name from the silver of his hair and his matching eyes. When his mother had given birth to him, he had opened his eyes from the onset, eyes of silver mercury holding hers. His parents claim that they saw an intelligence in his eyes and refused to cut his hair, in fear of some long-told legend about a fierce warrior who lost his strength when his hair had been cut. Mercuree’s hair was braided down his back.
To those who did not know him, Mercy, as he was affectionately known, was a scary SOB. Dressed in the same military outfit that Tobias wore, black pants and an embroidered short sleeved tunic that showed off the various tattoos that wound up the spy master’s arms. His waist tended to be weighed down with various knives and daggers, and today was no different. His face was stern, for he rarely smiled, except with those he trusted. Mercy walked with the shadows and called them his friends.
The girls scattered as Mercy came to stand in front of them, his thick arms folded over his chest. I always wondered how a man, just seventeen like myself and Tobias, but with such a striking appearance, managed to become a spymaster. Yet when I asked Mercy this, he gave me the smile he normally reserved for those whose last sight was his eyes and shrugged.
Have mercy on me, Mercy! You’ve scared all the women away.
I chuckled as Mercy simply raised a silver eyebrow. I’m surprised there are any women left to scare away, Toby. I would have been certain that you would have sampled them all by now.
Tobias gasped and pretended to look offended, while I shook my head. I assure you, my dearest Mercuree, with Jules here being so shy and reserved, and you…who knows what perversions you have, it will take me a while to make my way through the women of Montgomery.
I felt my cheeks flame again in embarrassment. Tobias slapped his knee, and his laughter boomed throughout the courtyard. I huffed out a breath and began to head back toward the castle wall, hesitating when Tobias called after me.
My friend clasped a hand on my shoulder, smiling as he said. I’m sorry, Jules, you know I’m only joking.
I shoved Tobias away with a laugh. Of course. How else would you distract yourself from your womanizing ways?
Mercy, Tobias and I fell into step with each other as we strode down toward the entrance to the wing that separated my quarters from my parents. When I had been old enough, I had requested to be placed there, with Tobias and Mercy, so that we could train and form a bond that no war could break. My father, always the military man, could not argue with my reasoning, but I knew he was secretly pleased to be rid of me.
When my mother had given birth to me, by all accounts my father was deliriously happy. Yet over time, when his only son seemed happier to have his nose within a book rather than learning to wield a sword, rumors of Malcolm Montgomery’s distaste for his only child spread around the desert faster than wildfire.
And that resentment had continued to grow, when my mother failed to conceive another child, thus leaving the fate of the Montgomery witches in the hands of the reluctant prince, as Toby liked to call me.
It would be my duty to wage war on the Cambridge witches when the time came, to avenge whatever long forgotten slight the Montgomery witches had imparted on us. The desert isles of Montgomery land would go up against the rainforest plains of Cambridge. If we met in the middle, and those without magic happen to be caught between, I wasn’t sure if I could stomach the bloodshed, the senseless violence, and the unnecessary loss of life.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door, I unhooked my sword from my back and set it down on the dining table. In comparison to the grandeur and pageantry of the main residence, this very torrent was meant to be a servant’s quarters, but it had been abandoned years ago when an army barracks had been constructed on the outskirts of the territory.
At fifteen years of age, Tobias and I had not known what to do with an entire building to ourselves, yet we had made it home. The torrent consisted of four floors, a winding staircase leading up and up to the rooftop. Mercy had come home from a three-month spy mission and demanded the top floor for himself.
Not that either myself or Toby argued with him. Most nights, Mercy could be found perched among the embrasureof the tower, his silver hair glinting against the pale moonlight. The work that Mercy did for his father meant that the spymaster rarely slept, the shadows he could blend with on occasion seemed to seep into his dreams and plague his thoughts. Both Toby and I had heard him awaken with a yell or two, and then the snick of his door when he made his way up to the not-so-comfortable humidity of the desert.
Hoisting himself up on the counter beside the sink, Toby banged his legs against the cupboard, earning a stern glare from Mercy. I flopped down into the wooden chair, pushing the boots off my feet and almost groaning at the pleasure I got from the relief in my tired soles. It might only be noon, yet Toby and I had been up as soon as the sun rose, running drills and training. After lunch, we both would be expected to return to the task at hand; preparing for the war that never came.
I need to ask a favor of you both.
Mercy’s baritone voice, quiet but full of authority, stopped Toby from his childish banging and held our attention. Mercy rarely asked anything from us, and when he did, much like with the third-floor bedroom, Toby and I never refused him.
When we were children, the three of us gravitated toward each other for the same reason; we were all social pariahs. Tobias had it the worst, being the son of a magic wielder with none of his own. Avoidance, like the boy had a disease that the noble families could catch, happened to be something that I was also more than familiar with, being the unwanted son of their illustrious king.
I had yet to come into my full power and use my abilities to ward off attacks, and on the day when a group of older boys had cornered Toby, striking at him with all kinds of magic, I had been unable to stop them. Then Mercuree had appeared.
The small, pale skinned boy, with hair so silver it looked like paint, had stepped out of the shadows and taken down the assailants before I could even blink. We had all heard of the boy who could bleed into shadows, yet I had never laid eyes on him until that day.
When the group of boys scrambled away, Mercy held out his hand to help Tobias up, to which my childhood friend hugged the other boy, whose back went stiff as a board. As Toby tried to thank him, Mercy stepped back into the shadows.
After that day, Toby had made it his life’s mission to track down and befriend Mercuree, the boy who seemed to have no friends. When Toby became so efficient a swordsman, no one would spar with him but me. Until one day, Mercy came out of the shadows, twin blades twirling, and we three had been inseparable since then.
We waited in silence as Mercy rested a hip against the doorframe. When he knew he had our full attention, he nodded his head and spoke. I have a mission that I need you to accompany me on. If it were like any other job, I would slip in and out, but the security at this place will be immense, and I need to get inside through proper channels.
Toby clapped his hands together, and his face lit up in childish glee. So, we finally get to go on a mission! You have made all my birthday wishes come true at once.
Mercuree snorted. Well, Toby, it is not your help I need, but that of the future head of House Montgomery. It is the Crowned Prince I require; you can simply stay at home.
Toby clasped a hand over his chest, his face widening in mock horror.
What do you need of me, Mercy?
I tried to lessen the sound of despair in my voice, the burden of being heir to the throne weighed consistently on my shoulders.
I need simply for you to attend a party with me as yourself, but not. Get me in the door, stay until I have gotten what I need, and we shall be away before anyone realizes we were ever there, apart from those who welcomed us in the door.
Leaning back in the chair, I cracked my knuckles to ease some of the tension in my bones. You know I cannot refuse you, Mercy. So, put Toby out of his misery and tell us what you need us to do.
Rolling his eyes, Mercy spoke with a small smile playing on his lips. There is an exclusive party next week, during the Samhain festival, that only those of royal lineage and extremely important invited guests can attend. It will mean a trek across the desert and into the mundane lands. There is a masquerade ball, right in the middle of the neutral zone. We go in, you two party, and then we get out. I will do as I have to do. And then we can come home.
Turning his silver eyes on me, Mercy continued. It will mean a week away from here, something I have already cleared with your father. We would leave on Wednesday, attend the party on Saturday, and return home on Monday so as not to arouse suspicion. It was I who suggested that the three of us attend, as men rather than a small army. Your father hesitated for only a moment before agreeing. I told him I would not go without either of you.
I knew what Mercy was hinting at; my father had wanted his shadow and his sword to go it alone and leave me to my own devices. But Mercuree was my father’s best commodity, his best asset, and he would do nothing to sully that relationship.
So, we shall go to the ball, and dance, and drink, and be merry. We shall see the wondrous women that do not have the desert in their hair, the taste of it on their skin. Mercuree will do what he does best, and maybe, dearest Julian, you might even find a woman worthy of your time.
We both know, Toby, that where my heart lies, is of no matter to me.
It is not where your heart lies that matters, Jules, but your—
Tobias!
I growled, heat creeping into my cheeks.
Toby chuckled as Mercy shook his head. I closed my eyes, my heart suddenly excited to get out of the desert and away from my father. To cross the desert lands, to have the weight of being Malcolm Montgomery’s heir gone, even for a brief period, would be like heaven.
I had heard of the grassy fields of the Null lands, seen pictures of the turquoise waters that surrounded the coast. To see it up close, to dip my toes into the water instead of trudging through sand, would be such an opportunity.
Perhaps, I could just be Julian for a few days.
The trees whispered a warning of the incoming storm, the branches swaying slightly, the leaves touching my cheek as I waited, perched high in the tree, for my target to venture into the clearing. Though I had been lying in wait for a couple of hours, my muscles had yet to give me any bother, perhaps due to the fact this was not the first time I had found myself crouched in a tree.
My lush green cape camouflaged me amongst the foliage of the trees, the rich dark of my pants and tunic helping me blend in well, making me the perfect hunter. The hood of my cape rested on my head, my eyes focused and my stance balanced. No one would see me hidden up here among the trees, and that was precisely what I liked.
A droplet of water plopped down, causing me to crinkle my nose ever so slightly. However, that movement did not stay my hand, the bow crooked and my arrow poised to fire as soon as the opportunity arose. There were days upon days like this within my mother’s territory, for despite the overabundance of green, the sun barely shone. On days when it did, the sun fought to break through the clouds, a brief moment of heat upon my skin before it was gone.
If I were not the sovereign’s daughter, and therefore heir to the Cambridge crown and country, then I could daydream about spending a time within Montgomery lands, where the sun shone and the air was heated even after dusk. But, alas, I was indeed heir to the throne, and far from the queen my mother yearned for me to be.
Expelling a breath as quietly as possible, I remembered my mother’s face when she learned that my magical talents erred toward that of my father, a man who died before I was born. The excitement in her eyes as little toddler me spent an hour searching for a toy she had hidden on me for not acting very princess-like. Having gotten an imprint of the toy, I managed to track it down within a record amount of time.
Imagine Kendra Cambridge’s face when her only daughter turned out to have within her bones, tracker magic. Kendra herself had the ability to foresee all outcomes of battle and decide on a strategic plan of action, and that indeed made her a powerful ruler. But along with her mother’s battle readiness, Kendra had charisma interwoven in her DNA, which had been passed down throughout generations of matriarchal leaders.
I lacked the charisma or the grace to be half the leader my mother was. Smiling and being bowed to frayed on my nerves, and I never lingered at social events for long. I shied away from dresses and jewels, happier to climb among the trees with dirt on my face, than sit still for a moment as maids fussed over my hair. I spoke my mind, and much to my mother’s chagrin, could not hold my tongue for long enough to almost avoid political niceties.
While I was the best huntress my mother had in her arsenal, I was not the princess to rule a kingdom.
Mayhap, had my father lived, and my mother had been blessed with a second child, then I would have been able to abdicate the throne to another of my kin. But Sovereign of the Cambridge Coven had always been female, so even if my father had lived, and they had a son, I would still be cursed to lead an entire country with no desire to do so.
If I was fortunate to be granted one wish, then I would wish to spend all of my days in the comfort of this forest, among the trees and the animals, who did not look upon me as a future ruler, but as another who dwelled within this leafy refuge.
Out of the thick foliage, a lone buck strode into the clearing. I had tracked it about a mile back, strutting around with the rest of the herd, and I felt it when he drifted away from the rest of them, allowing me to
