Dead King's Sword (Old Draft)

22. The Villains

The first time Henry met Mitzy, he had found her sitting under a willow tree, gazing out at a field of ankle-high grass that rippled in the breeze. She was like him; he knew that. He had seen her hold hands with a girl at the party, then her father hit her. The sound had rung out loud and sharp in the banquet hall. With teary eyes, Mitzy released the girl's hand as if it were fire, then ran outside. Henry had followed her because he understood her. If his parents knew he liked men, they would kill him. The first day they met, Henry had sat by Mitzy's side under the willow tree. He didn't speak but hoped his presence would comfort her.

The Trents were one of the few black families that were members of the aristocracy; they had proved their worth in the war against the nonmagis more than a century before, in 1904. They were not a family anyone should turn their eyes from-especially not the king.

Over time, the Trents and the Dragonbloods bonded over their hatred of the nonmagis.

Long ago, the magi had let the nonmagis into their land, invited them into their homes, fed them, and honoured them. In return, the nonmagis abducted magis, children and adults, and experimented on them. They had tried and failed to use their science to replicate magic cores.

Then, to increase the size of their experimentation, nonmagis attacked villages, initiating a war that left many children orphans.

The war had passed, and the cities had mostly healed, but there were still radioactive areas that magic couldn't eliminate, cancers and mutations that resulted in the death of newborns and people with weaker cores.

What upset the Dragonbloods and Trents was that their king had signed a peace treaty with the nonmagis, and now the two races were allies.

Allies?

Neither money nor presents could heal the pain the nonmagis had caused.

Henry strolled outside Champion's Magic Academy's boundaries and entered Alman Forest, werewolf territory, but he wasn't afraid, werewolves wouldn't attack unless provoked. The impures lived underground, but they came alive at night, and now their howls, music, and low guttural voices gave the night a bright, promising feel. Henry walked among the tall oak and spruce trees, watching the strings of golden lights that travelled from branch to branch, a complicated network of veins and bulbs above his head, but beautiful, nonetheless. The night air cooled his skin as his eyes got used to the moonlight. The potion that worked through his veins allowed him to see in the dark.

He avoided the lively areas, where shirtless boys no older than five ran around with dense clumps of hair covering their chests, backs, and hands. Their brows were thick as if painted with a broad brush. Henry smiled as a small boy ran past him, then sought the dark, the night blanketed areas where no one played or spoke at a campfire.

In the darkness, Henry found an oak tree; its bark was covered in the claw marks of the young werewolves. The earth stunk of piss, the way the children marked their territory despite having no real authority over anyone. Henry removed a glowing white stick from a deep pocket in his robe, then drew a circle composed of light that hovered a few centimetres above the ground. He filled in the runes for 'muted bubble'. In the middle of the fifth row, Henry drew three pairs of closed lips side by side with lines running down the centre of each, then he was finished. Outside of the ring, no one would hear a word those within spoke.

She came later, dancing, laughing with werewolf boys her age to avoid suspicion, pretending that she had escaped school for a night of fun.

Only after leaving them behind and approaching the circle did her gaze chill. Shadows mottled her dark brown skin and maroon hair and darkened her red robe. She stepped inside the ring and stood with her back to Henry. "We need to get King Reid's sword."

"I know." Their parents would kill them if they failed to do their part in the quest to overthrow the king. Due to his agitation, Henry felt a tail grow and spill over the waist of his pants, ripping it as it moved outward until it touched the ground. Cold scales slid across his skin. Only by reigning in his emotion did his dragon features vanish. There was a lot of pressure on him to get the ancient relic to amplify his father's power. If he failed, he bit his lip and gazed at Mitzy's back. They couldn't fail. "What are you thinking?"

Mitzy hugged herself, and, for a moment, she looked vulnerable, girlish, but Henry knew that couldn't be any further from the truth. He had watched her seduce a nonmagi, kiss her, then hand her over to her brother to be tortured. She and Henry had watched as lashes tore the girl's skin, red streams washed her body and spread across the floor. What had scared Henry was Mitzy's cold smile while the girl screamed. She could have easily been watching someone tell a bad joke. He thought then that there was something wrong with her. The exciting feeling in his gut as he watched the girl get whipped made him realize there was something wrong with him too.

Mitzy said, "To get the sword, we'll make one final demon attack. We'll send five demons into the trophy room, which is where the relic will be stored and guarded by the royal guards. You'll impersonate one of them in the chaos; the lights will go out, and you'll switch the relic with a fake. Once you accomplish that, we'll leave."

"There's only two of us. How will we summon five in one night?"

Mitzy turned on him; anger rippled across her beautiful face, and Henry's breath caught in his throat. Cold fear touched his skin, making the hair rise. He bowed his head, chiding himself for being afraid. Then, regaining his composure, he shoved his hands into his pocket and said, "I'll find three more people to help us."

She nodded. "There is something else; Roberta Sweeney is a problem."

"She is, but she has little standing in the royal family after going mad." Roberta, a young witch, was one of their school's dorm advisors. She had once been the king's niece. Conceived outside of marriage, she had always been something of a disgrace to the royal family and had been bullied until she had been able to prove her worth as a witch. But after all her hard work, one of her half-siblings hexed her, causing her to mistake her family as demons and kill them. Her sibling had never been punished, and the foul deed was only known to the king, her mother, and close friends. Since then, Roberta had sealed her magic and was only a shell of what she once was.

Mitzy said, "Princess Anne listens to her, and the king loves Anne. He might even name her younger brother heir instead of his eldest. That means Roberta is a problem."

"Maybe we could bring Roberta over to our side. She probably hates the royal family after all they've done."

"No. Roberta wouldn't be able to get her hands bloody. She's too pure."

"Do you think she saw what was in the envelopes?" Henry asked.

Roberta had handed the envelopes over to them unsealed. What if-

"She would have been an idiot not to."

Henry didn't like the idea of killing an innocent woman who had struggled and been abused most of her life. Victoria had been a much easier decision; she had been a nuisance and her roommate, an unfortunate liability, but Roberta hadn't done anything to hurt them.

Mitzy held Henry's hand and smiled. "We're already in this, and this is our mess to clean up. It's too late to back out." She squeezed his hand. "We'll be fine. I promise. We just have to make it through this next part. Stay focused."

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