Page 4 of Alpha's Magic

It was late afternoon by the time we left, but we both wanted to be on our way from that place. We said goodbye to Harrison and Wyatt and took our leave. We only made it as far as an inn on the far outskirts of town, but it was still better than the oppressive atmosphere that still hung over the palace. Personally, I thought Harrison needed to burn some sage around the palace, just to be on the safe side, but Lexington advised me to keep that idea to myself.

I had long heard rumors about Rozamond secretly practicing the dark arts, though to hear her tell it, she was a good gods-fearing woman, who abhorred and hated all dark magic. I didn’t buy it. Lex and I had a lot of magic ourselves, and we had both sensed something terribly wrong with Rozamond. She always managed to make herself scarce when we were around, which wasn’t all that often. I could smell the magic on her if I got too close. I knew she used heavy wards to hide herself, and I should have done more to look into it. But she was Harrison’s queen, and he didn’t want our interference. I still thought she should have been brought to trial for what she’d done to Rory. Perhaps then, her dark secrets might have come out. But Lex didn’t pursue it because he loved his brother, and the estrangement between them had only gotten worse in the meantime.

Maybe that massive tree limb falling on her head was a little divine justice at work.

Years before she married Harrison, I’d heard stories about how she dealt with those she considered enemies in her own country. Many people had opposed her father taking the throne years ago, and some said he was a usurper, and he was not even the legitimate heir. I didn’t know all the details of that story, but his detractors and any other contenders for the throne disappeared one after another, until he was the only one left standing. Rozamond would have been only a teenager at the time, as she had been in her late twenties when she had her unfortunate accident. Some of those stories of what happened to those people who opposed her father—if true—were chilling, and a little hard to believe. As for Lex, he said it wasn’t hard for him to believe every bad story we heard about her, but then his hatred for the late queen was well known. And very well-deserved.

Chapter Two

Banshira

(Once known as Leo)

I arrived back at the cave feeling drained and devastated by all that had happened in such a short time. I had to decide how best to bury Grimora, but in the end, I couldn’t bear to think of putting him in the cold ground. He always hated being cold.

I built a funeral pyre of driftwood I gathered from the beach, along with some branches from the forest and draped his best wizard’s robes over his body. Then I lit the small pyre at sunset and stayed near it most of the night, feeding it wood for fuel. In the morning, I’d scatter his ashes in the sea and then end it all myself, because I’d wanted to for years and only Grimora had stopped me in the past. Besides, without Grimora, I didn’t think I could bear the loneliness. But first I’d finish what I started for Grimora’s sake and then climb up to the cave and throw myself off the ledge and be done with this painful life I had lived for far too long.

But when I went to check the fire, I could see his skeleton still mostly intact up under the wood. I had no idea what to do with that. So I did what I usually did—nothing at all, except to worry about it.

I sat up half the night by the smoldering coals on the beach, trying to decide what to do next, and I thought about Grimora. I remembered the day Grimora and I met, though most of my memories of that day are dim and clouded. If I had expected a quick death—and I had—I was sadly mistaken. I had wanted only to die. That witch had laid a wicked spell on me, turning me into a monster. An ugly, ridiculous, hairy creature, with claws and teeth.

Why had she done it?

She’d been trying for my father. But I had seen her slip the powder into his cup and I had dashed forward to drink it before he could. A foolish thing to do, perhaps, but I loved my father very much, and brave, noble, foolhardy acts were what little boys lived for and dreamed about. I also thought my father could save me, because I thought he could do anything. But he died before he got the chance.

My father and I had been close the last couple of years before his death. By then, my mother had retreated into her own world and had little time for either of us. He knew I had magic inside me, but until I got my full growth, he didn’t know how much or how potent it might be. I think he did know enough to know it was different from his, however. He tried first to teach me from his many books, but the pages would stick when I tried to turn them and refused to show themselves to me, and the words danced around on the page and wouldn’t lie still for me to read them.

Once when I was looking for something new to read, I found a book on the library shelves—I don’t remember the name of it now—but it seemed to lean out of the row as I ran my hands over it, and it was warm and friendly to me from the first moment I touched it. It was almost…welcoming. I opened it up and the pages turned easily, almost eagerly under my fingers. I was happily curled up in front of the fireplace reading, in fact, when my father came in and found me.

“What are you doing?” he’d asked, and I’d held up the book of spells to show him.

“I found a grimoire of magic,” I told him.

“What? I keep those books in my desk. Let me see what you have there.”

He took the book in his hand and almost immediately recoiled. “What is this?”

He began to turn the pages and got a strange look on his face. He turned sharply toward me. “Show me where you found this.”

I got up and went over to the shelf, and he followed me, right on my heels. He inspected all the books left there in the area and finally, he turned to face me.

“You are not to read any further in this book, Leo. Promise me.”

“But why?”

“It’s forbidden.”

“Who has forbidden it?”

“The laws of the gods and man. It’s a dangerous book and I don’t want you to touch it, do I make myself clear?”

My father was rarely stern with me like this, so I simply nodded my head to show him I understood. His eyes were flashing at me, and I was a bit afraid of him, I think.

He took a deep breath and loosened his shoulders then. “I’m sorry to be harsh with you. But this is important.”

“All right, Father. I won’t read it again.”

“I don’t know how this even got here, but I’ll look into it. I need to go and dispose of this, Leo. I’ll be back later.”

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