Page 64 of Twisted Magic

“I should have known you’d cheat,” Jadren said through gritted teeth.

“You really should have,” Bogdan said with false sympathy, then chuckling, unable to contain his glee. “Honor and ethics and integrity are for losers, Jaddy.” He sneered every word. “Offering me a chance to yield, to work with you.” He snort-cackled. “I’d say you should have killed me while you had the chance, but you never had the chance. You don’t have enough magic in you to change your familiar back.”

“She can still kill you,” Jadren replied, seeing Seliah was poised to do so.

“No, she can’t.” With a flick of his fingers, Bogdan sent a bolt of lightning at Seliah, knocking her off the chair, and sending her rolling bonelessly down the dais steps to lie in a crumpled heap. Jadren howled in rage and despair. Through the bond he knew she lived, though barely. He took a step toward her, but Bogdan threw chains around Jadren’s ankles. “Too weak even to ward. This will be fun, taking you apart, piece by piece. Let this be a lesson to all of you,” Bogdan declared to the silently aghast assembly. “I will rule this house with all the ruthlessness of a true El-Adrel. Any who crosses me can expect to meet this fate. No one can stand against me.”

“Not even your father?” Fyrdo stepped out of the crowd. He looked worn, lines of grief and exhaustion creasing his normally cheerful face, but he held himself straight and proud as he moved to Jadren’s side. “I’m disappointed in you, Bogdoodle. I’ve told you over and over not to bully your brother.”

“Father…” Bogdan seemed unable to come up with more. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Fyrdo replied gently, putting his hand on Jadren’s shoulder. “And I’m lending my magic to the cause. Take it, Jadren,” he said, tapping his fingers three times. I. Love. You. “Disable, don’t kill, for my sake.”

And there it was, he realized—the reason Jadren had hesitated to kill Bogdan, when he’d already killed his mother and his sister. Fyrdo loved them all, whether or not they deserved his regard. It was his gift, that unconditional love, and something deep inside Jadren wrenched as he realized his father loved him still, even after all he’d done.

That nothing he’d done or would ever do, could dim that love an iota.

It was a staggering realization and, in that flash, that moment of epiphany, he resolved to be that kind of father, himself. As he’d told Seliah, his mother hadn’t known how to love, was perhaps incapable of it, but his father did. He had two parents, and he could choose.

Bogdan seemed to have a bit of an epiphany also, realization and awful knowledge contorting his face. He summoned his magic, the air crackling with ozone and the static of a devastating strike that would kill both Jadren and Fyrdo, but Jadren had already filled himself with his father’s magic, warm and infused with love just as Seliah’s was. He funneled a strike at Bogdan’s head, ripping away his consciousness. He should recover. For Fyrdo’s sake, Jadren hoped so, but that was the best he could do.

Even as Bogdan crumpled to the scatter of broken tiles at their feet, Helen struggling to soften the fall with her slighter build, Fyrdo dashed over to his other son.

Jadren ran to Seliah.

The in-house Refoel healer beat him to her, but barely. “Apologies, Lord El-Adrel,” she panted as she set hands on Seliah’s glossy black flank. “I didn’t dare interfere.”

“Understood,” he told her. “It was an untenable position. Can you heal her?”

“It would be easier if she were in human form…” The healer wizard trailed off in question.

Yes, what magic could the misbegotten youngest El-Adrel child, who’d never shown signs of being much of a wizard, actually perform? But he realized that she wasn’t questioning his ability, simply being humble in the request. He wasn’t used to people respecting him.

You’d better get used to it, he thought he heard Seliah say in his mind, even as she returned to human form, her amber gaze seeking and finding him immediately.

“Are you all right?” she asked, trying to sit.

The Refoel healer held her down firmly. “Lord El-Adrel is better off than you are, my lady, so please lie still a moment longer.”

Seliah mostly obeyed, though she reached a hand for him. Taking it, he pressed a fervent kiss to the back of it. “Did we win?” she asked. It would have been a demand, had her voice been a little stronger.

“Yes, Lady El-Adrel,” he answered. “We won. Everything is going to be all right now.”

A smile trembled over her lips. “A happy ending, just like in the novels.”

“The happy novels anyway.”

“Those are the best kind,” the Refoel healer inserted. “Hate those tragic endings. Won’t read them. There you go, Lady El-Adrel. Good as new.”

Jadren helped Seliah to her feet, steadying her on the heels she’d insisted on wearing, and helping her straighten the fancy gown.

“How’s my hair?” she asked him, gaze sweeping nervously over the crowd attentively waiting for them.

“You look beautiful,” he told her.

She slid him a dubious glance. “You don’t. You look like you went through a hay thrasher.”

“I don’t even want to know what that is,” he teased. “Sounds like a stupid farmer thing.”

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