Lies in Blood

“Okay.” I drew my hand back. “So, no foot-stomping.”



“Right. And every time I see you do it, I’m going to throw something at you, or maybe pinch you,” he said, probably imagining it.



“Okay. I give you official permission to pinch me if I do.”



“Excellent. Now—” He joined his hands and stood up again. “One of the other annoying things you do—”



I sat forward, listening eagerly.



“I’ve watched you with Arthur, with Mike, even with David, and one thing I can say that’s consistent about you, girl, is you tend to believe whatever whoever you’re talking to at the time says.”



“What’d you mean?”



“There’s a lot of mystery and history surrounding our past and possibly shaping our future as a nation, and you seem to believe too easily what you’re told you need to do—or even to believe.”



“Like what?”



“Take this prophecy for example. What do you actually believe about it?”



“I…” I considered all Arthur’s points, the things Jason taught me in the library the day he translated the scrolls, and all the things Morgaine had told me in the beginning—things I took as fact, that now turned out to be so far from the truth they weren’t even worth remembering. “I’m leaning more toward it being a contract, not a prophecy.”



“And what about the power of your foretold child?”



“The power to free the Damned?”



He nodded once.



“I . . . I think I can free them.” I waved my fingertips in the air.



“And what about Drake coming for your child. What do you believe about that?”



“I believe there’s a reason he wants her dead. Maybe she turns out to be the devil. I don’t know, but we can’t just rule him as the bad guy because he seeks to kill her. I think we should have a heavily guarded sit-down meet, and talk about it all.”



Blade smiled. “And why hasn’t this been done?”



“Because no one else agrees with me.”



“And . . . who has all the power in this monarchy?”



I sat straighter. “The queen.”



“Precisely. So, I reiterate—” He knelt before me, his elbow on his knee. “Why hasn’t it been done?”



“You’re right.” I stood up, forcing him to shift backward quickly. “I need a plan. I need to think about what to ask Drake, and I need to organise to meet with him.”



“But your people,” he gasped dramatically, like a shocked old woman, rising to his feet, “they won’t like it.”



“Well, it’s my decision. I may be young, but I’m not stupid.”



“I think they’ll fight you on this.”



“Then I’ll damn well overrule them,” I said, stomping my foot. “Ouch!” I swiped Blade's hand off my arm, cupping my sore skin. “You pinched me!”



“You stomped your foot. Try again.”



I walked cautiously away from him and stood across the room, looking out the window. “A meeting with Drake, in person, to talk—sift through the lies and webs in this whole prophecy—is what’s best for my people. War leads to death. And secrecy—” I turned around to look at Blade. “It begets secrecy. I need to flush this out.”



“Okay. So, now you believe that for yourself, what will you do?”



“Tell them that’s the plan.”



“Tell whom?”



“My people, my council, my House. And they will go along with it, because anyone who opposes will be asked to step down.”



Blade appeared beside me, the dark shadows shaping his smile. “That’s my girl. And when they oppose you—which they will—what will be your immediate reaction?”



I pictured myself in front of the House, standing at the head of the boardroom table, calm, taking slow breaths, staying silent until they all finished arguing around me. “I’ll whisper,” I said, “to get their attention. I’ll tell them this is the plan. Tell them, including David, that I overrule them.”



“Just tell them?” he prompted. “No yelling?”



“I think quiet repetition should suffice.” The corners of my lips pulled outward, making me smile.



“And…how do you know this is the right course of action? How do you know I’m not leading you into some trap, bending you to my will?”



“Because I trust you.”



“You trust Arthur. You trust Morgaine. You trust—”



“Point taken. But…” I exhaled softly, touching my chest. “Blade, I’m following my own heart. Often, when people tell me something or ask me to do something, I do it because I’m trying to be the queen I’m supposed to be, even if it feels wrong. But I don’t care about that anymore. I care about doing what’s best for everyone—for my people and my family, myself last. What they think of me doesn’t really matter anymore. So, if I do what I always think is right, then I’m choosing who to trust, not just walking blindly, guided by every voice of reason I hear.”



He clapped his hands once, then again, and again, getting faster and faster until it was a full-blown applause. I took a soft bow.



“See?” he said. “I don’t really need to teach you anything about being queen, Ara. I just need to shine some light on what you already know.” He touched my shoulder. “You’re a good person. You may take longer than everyone else to figure out how to rule your own roost, but I’d take a good soul as queen any day over a judicial prick.”



“Thank you, Blade.” I hugged him, wondering if that comment was a stab at David. “I think I just…it helps having someone believe in me, you know?”



“We all want to believe in you, Ara. Some of us are just afraid.”



“Why?” I sat down on the chair.



“It’s like falling in love.” He leaned his butt on the table beside me again, taking the marker out of his back pocket. “We need this—this queen, the safety, the protection, so bad that we’re scared, if we hope, it’ll all fall apart.”



Those words rung true deep within me. “I know how that feels almost better than anyone.”



“I know. And that’s why I know that, even if this not-yet-conceived child does turn out to be the devil, and that’s why Drake wants her dead, you’d kill her in a heartbeat—” He held up a finger. “After checking your facts, first.”



I nodded, smiling. “Yes. Fact checking. My new instant reaction.”



“Right. And calm breath, too. When you’re about to stomp your foot, just remember, you don’t have to. Being queen means you are one big foot-stomp. What you say goes, pretty little thing, so don’t feel as if you have to yell and scream about it.”



“Okay.” I grinned. “Well, on the bright side, I guess this prepares me for parenting, too. Can’t have two foot-stomping teenagers under one roof.”



“No.” He laughed. “We certainly can’t.”



***



Almost as if my stomach despised this as much as me, it groaned when I reached the field bordering the training hall. This week went by so fast, with so many things to take care of and so many discussions at dinner, I wasn't really sure I’d eaten anything human.



I touched the back of my wrist, running a finger over the raised vein there, thinking about Eric, wondering where he was, what he was doing.



“Hey, gorgeous. What you doin’?” Mike said, catching up to me at a slight run.



“Studying my veins.” I showed him my wrist. “Eric told me that when they look like this, I'm blood hungry.”



“When was the last time you had blood?” He took my hand in his, flipping it over to look at my skin carefully.



“This morning.”



He laughed and poked me in the ribs. “I'm gonna call you Miss Piggy.”



“Shut up.” I backhanded him. “Where’s David? I’ll eat from him before we start training.”



“He’s already in there.”



“Okay. Cool.”



We both took a step forward, but though Mike moved, I stayed stuck on the spot, caught by my lace under the sole of my shoe.



“How many times do I have to tell you to tie that up?” Mike groaned, glancing back.



“Crud.” I lifted my foot and released the lace, ergo freeing my halted steps. “You go ahead. I’ll meet you in there,” I said. “From the sounds of that fight, I think David's opponent needs some medical attention.”



Mike grinned, listening. “He’s up against Falcon. This should be good.”



I smiled as he bounded away like a little boy heading to a mud puddle.



“Sorry about that,” Jason said, springing up out of nowhere.



“About what?”



“Your shoelace.” He pointed down; it was already done back up.



“You did that?”



He nodded. “I needed you alone.”



“Why?”



“They won't let me train with you.” He jerked his thumb to the training hall. “Or even watch, because I'm not a Council or Core member. But I need to be close when you shoot that energy of yours. I want to get a reading—see what it’s made up of.”



“Well, can't you tell David it’s for research purposes?”



“I did. He told me I wasn't to conduct any tests on you until the House had time to go over my proposal for the lab.”



“Oh.” I frowned. “So, do you want me to shoot a bolt out the door for you?”



“If you could.” He grinned. “I've got my equipment set up in the bushes just across from the doors. I just need about three seconds of that light.”



“Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll do my best.”



“And…” He looked at my face, right above my eye, and ran his thumb along my brow. “Don't worry about the pain, Ara. I’ll figure this out, okay. I’ll find a way to stop the headaches.”



I nodded, closing my eyes. “Thanks, Jase.”



“You lost, Queeny?” Quaid called out.



“No, I was just talking to—” I started, but he was gone when I opened my eyes, “—myself.”



“Nothing new there,” Quaid said with a laugh. “So, who you shooting today?”



I wriggled my fingers in the air. “You wanna be my victim?”



He stepped back, palms raised. “It took me a week to get over the last shot. Use Falcon.”



“Can't. He’s fighting David right now.”



“Ooh.” Quaid looked at the training hall. “Come on then. We better get in there and help him.”



As we reached the entrance, though, Mike and Blade walked past with an unconscious Falcon between them.