Page 63 of Spellbound
“Yes, he did.”
“Yikes. How did that go?”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to make her feel worse. “He didn’t become a keeper.”
She scoffed. “No doubt. He’s not been here long enough. What was he thinking?”
I sighed. I mean, he did technically pass the test, but I won through experience. I wished I could tell her the truth, that he was thinking he could probably get his family back, but I was afraid of what would happen if he found out she knew. Freya had said he was trying to be good, with emphasis on trying. He hadn’t killed us to get what he wanted, but he was a god, and if history was anything to go by, they had their tempers.
“He was trying to do the right thing,” I said, wishing I hadn’t.
“What do you mean?”
“By him, anyway.” My heart hurt. He was a man trying to get back his family, and now he’d lost it all. He could be dangerous right now, and I was sitting here, a mile from the coven that needed protecting.
“Nai, I need to go. Will you come by tomorrow?”
She nodded. “Thanks, Elle.”
“We’ll go shopping,” I said.
She gave me a watery smile. “I’d like that. We can talk about what I’m going to do next over lunch after.”
“We will. So many people are starting their own businesses and stuff. You’re talented. Together, we’ll come up with something.” I wanted to spew some crap about how this might be the opportunity she needed to spread her wings, but I know if it were me, I wouldn’t want to hear that right now. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
I headed off. I needed to face Raiden. I couldn’t keep avoiding him, especially when he was a loose cannon.
***
Ifound him in hisroom. His queen-size bed was made with navy sheets. Fresh white shirts were folded on the chair of his dresser, ready to be put away. Above his bed was a small painting, a landscape of the main city in Istinia, a place of art, culture, music, and gangsters, from what I’d heard. I bet he got it from the iris in town. I hadn’t noticed it the last time I was in here.
He glanced at the painting. “Yes,” he answered, his tone clipped. “I saw it in the iris and liked it.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to Navarin.” I exhaled slowly, fumbling my fingers with my necklace as I searched for the words to say.
He broke the silence. “Before, when we spoke, you said to ask, so I’m asking. Can you get me the keys? You have access to the vaults now.”
I bit my bottom lip. “It’s not as straightforward as that. I’m a brand-new keeper. They’ll know it was me if something goes missing. Maybe we can ask Edmund. I can’t lose my position.”
“He’ll say no. Trust me. He knows what those keys are for. If anyone finds out I’m a god, the entirety of Istinia will come after me.”
“You’re a god. Why are you afraid of witches?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Even I can’t fight thousands of witches with magic on their side. Now, a large group of you on the other hand wouldn’t be difficult.”
“Is that what happened?” I pursed my lips. “When they imprisoned you? Was it hundreds, maybe thousands of us?”
He nodded. “It was your coven actually. Well, back then, keepers were simply witches with dark magic, and there were a lot more of you. It was they who created the realms with Freya’s help, and the keys which kept us in there. Your coven was created to guard those keys, then it turned into something else over time, I see. To guard all dangerous objects.”
I blinked in disbelief. “I had no idea.”
“I doubt many do. You’ll find some things are eradicated from the history books when it doesn’t suit their needs. Your council was formed after the kings and queens of Istinia fell. The monarchy nor the council after wanted the grizzly details of the once-revered gods remembered, but they couldn’t stop the stories.”
I arched an eyebrow.
He continued. “Stories passed down through generations, of the deadly gods who sacrificed people. The tales twisted as they did, into all sorts of fables. All the while, we remained rotting away in prisons, helpless to stop the lies from spreading.” His fingers flexed. “My brother and sister still are.”
