He softened his voice. “What do you think your dear brother will do when he realizes you are not really of his bloodline? He will throw you out and take everything from you. And that is the best-case scenario.”
Morgana’s brow furrowed, and she rubbed her arm. “What do you want?”
Joreth smiled, sinister shadows moving around him in the dark courtyard. “It’s not what I want that’s important. I’m your father, Morgana. I only want what’s best for you. I can give you what you always wanted. Power beyond your wildest dreams. I can make you undisputed Queen of Illiador and beyond.”
“How?” Morgana looked skeptically at her father. “Azaren will be king for a long time, and after him, his daughter Aurora.”
“But we can change that.” He put his hand gently on her shoulder. “Kill Azaren and his brat of a child, and you shall have your crown.”
Morgana’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “You want me to kill my brother and niece?”
“Haven’t you been listening, Morgana? He is not your brother, and she is not your niece. I am the only family you have left.”
She shook her head and straightened her shoulders. “No! I cannot kill him. I will not do it. I will tell Azaren the truth. He will understand it is not my fault my mother had an affair.” She turned from him and started to walk away.
Joreth raised his hand, and his magic grabbed Morgana and spun her around to face him. “Foolish girl,” he hissed. “He will kill you as soon as he learns the truth. He will not give you time to explain. He killed your mother and tried to kill me. Why do you think he will treat you any differently? He will think you are a spy, or worse, a traitor.”
I could see the confusion in Morgana’s eyes. She was still young, her fate still undecided. It was the moment that would change everything for my family. I wished I could have said something to stop her from taking the wrong path. But I just stood there, unable to interfere, unable to do anything but watch Joreth turn his daughter into the monster she was today.
Morgana raised her eyes to her father’s, a determination in them that wasn’t there before. She echoed her mother’s words unknowingly. “What do I have to do?”
Joreth smiled. “Go to the Firedrake vaults and find the Dagger of Dragath. If you want to kill Azaren and his child, you will have to get rid of the fae-warrior first.”
“Elayna?”
Joreth nodded. “The fae queen’s daughter is an elite fire-fae warrior of Elfi and too powerful to defeat without the Dagger. She is an immortal, and she will protect her child with her life. Elayna is almost impossible to kill. The only way to get rid of her is to trap her within the Dagger of Dragath.”
Morgana clasped her hands in front of her and raised her chin. “It will be done, Father.”
Victor drew a rune with his staff and the scene shifted again. Morgana and Joreth were in a room at the palace. In her hand was the Dagger I recognized so well, curved and twisted with a massive ruby on its hilt. They had managed to find what no one else had. Just seeing it again, even though it couldn’t hurt me now, brought a bone-chilling fear I could not control. How would I be able to face it again? When the Dagger had cut me, I’d felt its magic. It was strong, powerful—too powerful, in fact. It had stripped me of my magic so easily, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Rafe, alert as always, took my hand and squeezed it. His ability to read what I was feeling was uncanny, and his presence always made me feel safe.
Joreth spoke, grabbing my attention. “I have sent for the Drakaar assassins to assist you. They will take care of Azaren while you get rid of Elayna and bring the child to me.”
Morgana’s eyes flashed. “But you said yourself the child has to die for me to be queen.”
Joreth clamped his hand around Morgana’s arm. “The child must not be harmed. I have a use for her yet.”
“But the throne—”
“—will be yours,” Joreth finished.
Morgana nodded.
Victor looked at me. “This is the final part. Are you sure you want to see this?”
I nodded. I had to know the whole story. I straightened my shoulders. “I’m ready.”
Victor drew a rune with his staff and the scene shifted one last time.
I could smell something burning, and a flash of light blinded me. The curtains were enveloped in a blaze, and the acrid smell of smoke filled my lungs. I had to remind myself we were shielded and safe.
We were in the nursery. A child cried in the corner. My mother was there, her beautiful blonde hair flashing golden in the light of the fire. Two dark terrifying shapes loomed up behind her, swords glinting red in the light of the roaring flames. Drakaar. I wanted to warn her, but it was unnecessary—she already knew they were there.
Elayna Firedrake whirled around to meet her attackers, and her hands started to glow, flashing with silver fire. Twin swords blazed in her hands as she attacked. Steel clashed and fire sizzled as she fought with the strength and grace of the fae, her swords a fluid extension of her arms. The Drakaar fell before her, their heads severed, eyes lifeless.
She looked at her child. “Run, Aurora.” Her voice was strained. “Run now. I am right behind you.”
I looked over at my little self, and all the feelings I had suppressed for years came crashing down around me. This was my dream, the one I had relived again and again for months before I came into this world. I longed to rush over and help, but I could not do anything but watch my destiny unfold before me.
My childhood self obeyed my mother and ran as fast as her little legs
