Page 48 of Bound By Darkness

“To a degree. The Houses work togetherto fuel King Hywell’s power. To funnel this war against the rebels, but I wouldn’t say they are particularly thrilled about it. I think they know he is planning to become King of Cethales.”

“Why doesn’t House Raha use their army or their power casting against him if they suspect it? Are they not the strongest House anymore?” Had that much changed since my time in the prison? Was casting no longer limited to the High Fae in the Four Houses?

“The General of Raha is, if not more, corrupt than the King himself. He’s gaining credibility, power, and astronomical amounts of wealth. Why would he not work with him to protect his homeland and pride as a caster?”

A gust of wind blew through the square, a few droplets of water landing against my skin.

“What about House Laias and House Krones?”

Ivan blew out a breath. “Krones is destroyed and under control of Armas. Their queen is missing, and the seers are in shambles. Future casting is all but nonexistent.”

“And Laias?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“Laias is standing… for now until we arrive to help the King and Queen’s family. Their daughter, Asa, inherited their healing casting. The last three to possess it.”

So much had changed since my time in the prison and he was right. King Hywell was on his way to becoming King of all—erasing the structure of the Four Houses institutionalized by the War of Old.

“So… there really are no other casters besides the High Fae in the Houses, the descendants of the original kings,” I said, still contemplating the amount of history he’d stuffed into my head.

It was still true. No one else possessed casting except for the High Fae, and their children ruling the Four Houses, their bloodlines running strong.

“Except for you, someone neither born into royalty or killing a god.” He trailed off, his voicegrowing thick. “You really don’t know anything about your heritage… or how your casting abilities came to be?”

I shook my head, the moon illuminating the space between us. “No. I was born with this… ability. My parents aren’t Nobles and not the murdering type. My father barely managed to kill a pig once and my mother… my mother worshiped the old gods. She’d never harm one so I didn’t inherit this power by blood right either.” Not like any gods were spotted since the War of Old, anyway.

He scratched the bit of stubble on his chin. “There’s no use dwelling on it, then.”

“That’s it? You don’t know anything else?”

“You’re weird. Isn’t that enough?”

My mouth hung slightly open, a bit of fountain spray tickling my tongue. “And you’re an asshole.”

He smirked, but said nothing else as we sat on the bench.

The air stilling, it wasn’t until I asked the question haunting me the world seemed to stir once more. “You said Laias is standing for now. What are we going over there for? Why… why are you fighting against these rebels?” Maybe it was more than one question, but I needed to know.

To my surprise, he spoke.

“For it to make sense, we might have to start at the beginning,” he stated. “You remember the War of Old?”

“Of course. I did attend school, even if was for a few years,” I said with a bit of spite. I wasn’t that dumb.

Ignoring the threads of anger, he continued. “The rebels despise the War of Old. An independent group, they want nothing more than the downfall of the Four Houses and anyone who is associated with them. They wish to return Cethales to a time before the War. A time where the land was rich with magic and the Fae were immortal.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

The lines across his face bunched tightly before theydissipated, vanishing to nothing. “It’s the way they are doing it. Their leader is bloodthirsty and willing to sacrifice anyone for their goals, even innocent bystanders. Their leader wants power to rule Cethales for themselves while getting rid of anyone who goes against their methods.”

“Isn’t that war? Sacrifices are to be expected, especially if it’s as serious as changing who is in power.”

“Wars can be won without sacrifice.”

“You’re living in a fantasy. Reality is cruel. War cannot exist without sacrifice.” My nails clicked against the bench. “And what of me? What part do I play in this?”

His lips parted. “You’re collateral.”

“Collateral?”

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