47. Ironically protecting what I most wanted to lose

“Siri, wake up!” overjoyed Grant flopped down on the bed next to me.

It's been a long time since I've been woken up in such a terrible way.

I would have given my soul for the chance to reach out and strangle Circul with pleasure. I was so happy in the realm of dreams, I didn't want to leave, and yet he dragged me out. Never let me die properly, never let me sleep. What kind of life is unjust?

“Dad has today off, he said he wanted to spend it with us. Get ready,” he threw the clothes he'd picked out for me.

And yes, I've never had anyone say such horrible things to me in the early hours of the morning.

I glanced at the beaming young man pacing the bedroom impatiently. For the second time in a minute, the sinful thought of murder crossed my mind. Only now I had added another person to the blacklist who was already at the top of it.

We found Rizor in the garden, admiring the flowers and enjoying his morning tea. Grant and I had a quick breakfast, although I couldn't eat a bite. The black eyes of the country's leader scrutinised us, and the president was silent most of the time, making the nervous butterflies in my stomach flutter and sending a chill of fear through my blood.

“Show me what you learned in Oblivion,” Circul turned to his son as the dessert was finished.

The young man wiped his mouth with his napkin, threw it on the tablecloth and stood up with a sigh.

The guy's main target was Barg, who was passing by on his business, which usually consisted of deafening barking at squirrels jumping from garden trees onto shed roofs and forgotten statues on the other side of the estate.

The dog, driven by the emotion directed at him, whimpered and nuzzled me in a way that shocked me. I always ran away from him to save my poor heels, but with Grant's magic I could even rub Kai's pet's ears. He wagged his tail so sweetly it made my fingers itch and I wanted to squeeze the pug.

It was only a few minutes later that I realised that I, normally terrified of dogs and anything that barks, bites or chews, was now calmly scratching the belly of the hated animal. ‘No, Grant, why are you doing this to me?’

I looked doomedly into his black eyes, glowing with magic, I couldn't even be angry because he had just ‘erased’ that emotion from me for a while.

Then came the birds, they fluttered fearlessly around the young man's arms and gazed curiously at him. One sparrow even landed on Barg's head and danced on it. It turned its head from side to side.

Grant commanded the squirrels, the mouse that had the misfortune to crawl out of its hole. Oh, heavens, even ants and wasps changed their behaviour with primitive emotional rudiments. Indeed, the scientist was right when he said that even insects can express anger, fear, jealousy and love through their chatter.

The president sat relaxed in the wicker chair and watched as the guy simultaneously controlled the creatures, sending them different emotions. I had only theorised how difficult it was to do, but Grant was surprisingly good at it. Despite the beads of sweat on his forehead and the slight trembling of his fingers from the effort.

When the little ten-minute performance was over, I mentally exhaled. Grant sat wearily in his seat, slurping a glass of cooled orange juice.

“Not bad,” said the president. “But it could have been better.”

I glared at the tyrant who couldn't even praise his son properly. I felt so sorry for Grant.

“What about you, Siri?” Rizor suddenly turned his attention to me. “I've heard you practice magic too. Would you like to demonstrate?”

My left hand twitched, horrified at having to entertain this terrible man by showing him tricks of the air. The teaspoon fell on the grass and I bent down to pick it up, giving myself time to think. At that moment, several things happened at once.

The invisible dome surrounding the Minister of Defense's castle appeared and immediately cracked at the base in several places. A bolt of lightning cut through the clear, cloudless sky, and the thunder that followed shook the ground.

We all turned and stared at the house in silent amazement. The windows in the right wing, where the president's office was, had been blown out, and the shockwave had even reached us, shaking our hair and ruffling the tablecloth. A black, magical smog enveloped the building, hiding it from view.

Rizor stood up, dark power pouring from his eyes as he saw smoke billowing into the sky.

“Stay here,” he threw a spell at us without even looking in our direction.

I didn't even have time to blink, let alone dodge, before I was magically bound to Grant. Our backs were pressed together, the ropes shimmering with cold rainbow colours and squeezing my chest so tightly I couldn't breathe.

“Dad!” Circul tried to hold his father back, but he was gone.

With a sinking heart, I watched the tall silhouette of the head of the country disappear into the mist. It was as if a black cloud had covered the castle, magic swirled and stirred, lightning flashed and the wind carried the acrid smell of nitrogen towards us.

If such a madman would dare to attack one of the most protected places in the land, he must have a well-thought-out plan and some super-deadly magic tricks up his sleeve.

I shuddered as I heard a piercing, heartbreaking woman's scream. I felt sorry for the staff, most of whom were not strong enough to defend themselves.

“We have to run. It's too open here,” I said.

We were not far from the outer wall. Although we seldom walked in this part of the garden, I knew that beyond the small grove there was a fence with a gate behind which we could hide in a ravine.

“Have you forgotten?” Grant barely moved his hand, where beside the bracelet with the chain was another, flashing a dim green light. “We can't leave the manor, the magic in these will immobilise us.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“We need to get into Lias' office and deactivate the trackers on us.”

I looked fearfully in the direction of the smoking building where the screams and rumbling were coming from. It was a mad decision.

“Let's go,” Circul said without letting me get ready, taking a sharp step.

I tried to regain my balance but it only made things worse and we both fell to the ground.

“Shit,” muttered the guy who had kissed the green grass with his face.

We managed to get up with some difficulty. The ropes were tangled and every movement tightened them, leaving red marks on our skin.

“Stop,” the president's son ordered. “Let's calm down and wait for the spell to wear off.”

After a while the ropes loosened a little, Grant took a cautious step forward and I stepped on the spot where his foot had been.

We made it a metre and a half, then the ropes, which kept us in a tight embrace, made it impossible for us to breathe.

We had to stand still and wait until we had some freedom of movement again. So we walked at a snail's pace, Grant in front, choosing the direction, and me behind, watching the sunny morning sky and the birds, silenced by the thunder and the tense atmosphere.

We hadn't even reached the nearest entrance to the castle, a few metres away, when the ropes the president had placed on us blinked a few times, lost contact with their owner, and then disappeared.

“Ugh, they're finally gone,” I exhaled in relief, rubbing the elbow of my right hand where the rope had left a deep scarlet mark.

“Father wouldn't lift the spell until things settled down... and I can't feel his magic,” Grant swallowed.

We looked at each other fearfully. Who was strong enough to handle Oblivion's magic?

I tried to make sense of what was happening. It seemed that the rebels had decided to take the mad step of nipping evil in the bud by killing Rizor Circul. They weren't even afraid to break into the home of the Minister of Defense!

What's in it for us? If they kill the president, the civil war will probably end, and there will be no one with Oblivion magic on the side of the official government. Yes, the aristocrats are powerful, but as long as they fear the head of state, they are willing to obey and move in one direction. But once the cornerstone falls, all the others will crumble under the onslaught of their own ambitions and carefully suppressed centuries-old enmities between ancient clans.

But if Rizor really dies now, I won't be able to take revenge on him personally. My purpose that I've cherished for so long will become meaningless? And who would take the bomb from me? Grant's father was the one who paid for all the research. No, I didn't want an early funeral for my enemy.

While I was sorting out my thoughts, Circul Junior coiled the chain into a sort of ball and held it out to me.

I took my metal leash in one hand, the other grabbed the guy's shoulder. As soon as we were inside the building, our eyes filled with tears. Almost every room was shrouded in a black fog that made it hard to breathe, hard even to think clearly.

Lias’ office was on the first floor of the central wing, so we had to walk through some halls, a conservatory, a gallery and guest rooms to get to our destination.

I had no idea what we were going to do once we got the ‘tracking cuffs’ off, I decided to trust Grant, he seemed more cold-blooded than I was.

The guy went first, telling me to watch his back if anything happened. I chased the mist away, using air magic to dispel the black spell.

A low howl at the end of the corridor made us stop.

“Who's here?” Circul asked in an almost calm voice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” it howled back.

Driven by curiosity and with our self-preservation instincts switched off, we pitched forward.

‘These are the moments when the very first fascinating characters in horror films usually die,’ went through my mind.

It wasn't that bad. Almost. At least our lives weren't in danger.

We came across a girl crying in pain, sitting by the window with her head leaning against the sill. Her dress was stained with blood and she was breathing heavily, sobbing and howling.

The hairs on my arms stood up at the eerie sight. The pretty face had dark eye sockets, almost black with blood, and the eyeballs were missing.

I clenched my teeth and tried to suppress the panic and sheer terror. My companion just glanced at the unfortunate woman, not even trying to stop.

“We must help her.”

“How? We don't even have any painkillers. We have to keep moving,” Grant said in a rush, and I think I knew why – he was desperate to find out what had happened to his father.

I looked at him reproachfully, wanting to smack him on the head for his heartlessness, and at the same time wanting to run away and forget what I had just seen. Tears came to my eyes, for I felt so sorry for the maid. She was often laughing in the kitchen, helping the cooks peel fruit and vegetables.

“All right,” the man surrendered. He walked over to the servant and placed his palm on her forehead. A few seconds later the sobbing stopped and the poor girl collapsed to the floor. “I made her apathetic.”

“You...” I couldn't find the words to describe my rage.

“Come on, we don't have time,” he pulled me forward.

I swallowed my anger and put my hand over my mouth, not wanting all the enemies around us to know we were coming just by hearing my cursing mixed with tearful sobs.

We were walking through the living room when the wall to our left cracked and collapsed, and the force of the impact sent huge chunks rolling across the floor to the opposite side, hitting the high windows, shattering the panes and sending blocks of stone and the remains of the windows crashing down onto the terrace.

Fresh air poured in, dispersing the magic smog, and visibility improved considerably.