Princess Of The Skulls - Chapter 15: Chapter 15
You are reading Princess Of The Skulls, Chapter 15: Chapter 15. Read more chapters of Princess Of The Skulls.
The morning after our oath-swearing brought an unexpected complication in the form of Kael arrived in my chambers just after sunrise, moving through the shadows with his characteristic silence. He'd spent the night conducting final reconnaissance of the cult's preparations, and the intelligence he brought was both encouraging and terrifying.
"They're confident," he reported, settling into the chair by my window while I continued the pretense of reviewing wedding arrangements. "Overconfident. They're so certain that their ritual will succeed that they've made minimal preparations for interference."
"How minimal?"
"Six guards at the crypt entrance, two more inside the ritual chamber itself, and a handful of lookouts positioned around the castle grounds. They're relying on secrecy and timing rather than overwhelming force."
I set down the ceremonial schedule I'd been pretending to study. "That's either very good news or a trap."
"It's good news. I've been watching their preparations for weeks, and everything I've seen suggests they genuinely believe that no one knows about their plans."
"What about Lord Cassius? Is he part of the ritual group or just providing political cover?"
"Political cover, mostly. He'll be present for the ceremony to witness the binding, but he's not one of the primary spell-casters." Kael paused, his expression darkening. "But Seraphina, there's something else you need to know about the ritual itself."
"What?"
"It's not just designed to bind the spirits of the dead. It's designed to bind the spirits of everyone who dies during the ritual. Including you, if you're killed trying to stop it."
The revelation hit like a physical blow. If I died during our attempt to disrupt the cult's work, my spirit would become part of the magical power they were trying to accumulate.
"How certain are you about that?"
"Completely certain. I've seen the ritual diagrams, and there are specific provisions for incorporating the souls of anyone who dies within the magical circle during the working." His dark eyes met mine directly.
"If you die tomorrow night, you won't just fail to stop them, you'll actively help them succeed."
I walked to the window, staring out at the castle grounds where servants were already beginning preparations for tomorrow's festivities. The irony was almost overwhelming—my death in service to protecting others would result in my spirit being enslaved to serve the very people I'd died fighting.
"Does that change your decision?" Kael asked quietly.
"No. But it changes my approach." I turned back to face him. "If I can't risk dying during the ritual itself, then I need to find a way to disrupt it without putting myself in direct magical danger."
"Any ideas how?"
"Several. None of them is good." I moved to my desk and retrieved my mother's journal, flipping to the pages that detailed the magical theory behind binding workings. "The ritual requires specific components —physical anchors for the spiritual bindings, ceremonial tools that channel magical energy, and participants who can maintain the spell structure while it's being cast."
"Remove any of those elements, and the working fails?"
"Remove the right elements at the right time, and the work not only fails but backfires catastrophically.
All that accumulated magical energy has to go somewhere, and if it can't complete the intended binding ." I traced the relevant passages with my finger. "It returns to its sources with compound interest."
Kael leaned forward, interested. "Meaning?"
"Meaning everyone who contributed spiritual energy to the working—including the cult members themselves—gets that energy returned to them all at once. For living people, that much magical power channeled through a mortal body is inevitably fatal."
"So instead of binding spirits, the ritual would kill everyone involved in casting it."
"Exactly. The challenge is disrupting it at precisely the right moment without being close enough to die in the magical backlash."
Kael was quiet for several minutes, considering the tactical implications. "What would you need to disrupt to cause that kind of backfire?"
I consulted my mother's notes again, cross-referencing the ritual structure with the information Kael had provided about the physical setup.
"The binding anchors would be the most vulnerable point. They're physical objects that have to be positioned at specific locations around the ritual circle. Destroying or moving them at the right moment would destabilize the entire working."
"How many anchors, and where are they positioned?"
"According to this, there should be seven—one at each cardinal direction, plus three at the center of the circle." I looked up from the journal. "Did you see anything like that during your reconnaissance?"
"Seven ornate skull relics arranged around a central altar, with candles and binding circles carved into the stone floor around each one."
"Those are the anchors. Destroy three or more of them after the ritual begins, but before it reaches the point of no return, and the magical energy will have nowhere to go except back into the people who raised it."
"And the point of no return is?"
"When the first spirit is successfully bound to the central focus. After that, the magical structure becomes self-sustaining and can't be disrupted without specialized knowledge."
Kael stood and began pacing, his mind working through the practical aspects of what I was proposing. "So the timing has to be perfect. Too early, and the ritual can be restarted. Too late, and the disruption becomes impossible."
"Exactly. Which is why I need someone positioned inside the ritual chamber who can judge the timing precisely and act at exactly the right moment."
"Someone expendable, you mean."
"Someone skilled enough to accomplish the mission and brave enough to accept the consequences." I met his eyes directly. "I'm not asking you to die for this cause, Kael. But I am asking you to risk dying for it."
"There's a difference?"
"The difference is that if you're skilled enough and lucky enough, you might be able to destroy the anchors and escape before the magical backlash kills everyone in the chamber."
"Might."
"Might," I confirmed. "It's not a good chance, but it's a chance."
Kael stopped pacing and turned to face me fully. "And what about you? If I'm disrupting the ritual from inside the chamber, where will you be?"
"Participating in my wedding reception while trying not to look like I'm waiting for news that the world has either been saved or doomed."
"That's assuming our assault team can get me into position without alerting the cult to what's happening."
"Master Dorian and Captain Marcus are good at what they do. If anyone can get you into that chamber, it's them."
"And if they can't?"
I was quiet for a moment, considering the backup plans we'd discussed, but hoping we wouldn't need to implement them. "Then I break away from the reception, use the skull communion to contact my mother's spirit, and attempt to disrupt the ritual using necromantic abilities I'm not entirely sure I possess."
"That's not much of a contingency plan."
"No, it isn't. But it's the best we can do with the resources available."
Kael moved closer, stopping just within arm's reach. "Seraphina, there's something I need to say before tomorrow happens and we potentially don't have another chance for a private conversation."
"What?"
"I've spent most of my adult life killing people for money. I've never cared about causes or politics or the greater good—I cared about completing contracts and getting paid." He paused, seeming to struggle with the words. "But somewhere in the process of getting to know you, that changed. This isn't about completing a mission anymore. It's about protecting someone I care about and preventing something terrible from happening to people who don't deserve it."
"Kael ."
"I'm not asking for anything," he said quickly. "I know the situation is complicated, and I know you have feelings for Prince Aldric that you're still sorting through. I just wanted you to know that whatever happens tomorrow, my loyalty to you is personal, not professional."
The confession was everything I'd hoped to hear and everything that made our situation more complicated. My feelings for Kael had been growing stronger even as I'd developed genuine affection for
Prince Aldric, creating an emotional tangle that I couldn't resolve while focused on preventing a magical catastrophe.
"I care about you, too," I said quietly. "More than is probably wise, given the circumstances."
"And after tomorrow?"
"After tomorrow, we'll see who's still alive and what kind of world we're living in. Then we can figure out what comes next."
Kael smiled, and for once the expression held warmth instead of sardonic amusement. "Fair enough."
He moved toward the window, preparing to leave the way he'd arrived, but I stopped him with a question that had been nagging at me.
"Kael, why was your contract canceled? You never explained what changed Lord Cassius's mind about having me assassinated."
He paused, his hand on the window frame. "Because he realized that having you killed by an assassin would make you a martyr. But having you killed during your wedding—preferably by cultists trying to disrupt the ceremony—would make you a victim whose death justified whatever political actions he wanted to take afterward."
"So he's planning to let the cult kill me?"
"He's planning to let the cult reveal themselves by trying to kill you, then use the chaos to eliminate his political enemies while claiming to avenge your death." Kael's expression was grim. "Either way, you die and he gets what he wants."
"Unless we stop both the cult and Lord Cassius."
"Unless we stop both the cult and Lord Cassius," he agreed. "Which brings our chances of success down to approximately zero."
"I prefer to think of it as a challenge rather than an impossibility."
"Of course you do." Kael swung his leg over the windowsill, preparing to climb down to the courtyard below. "Try not to die tomorrow, Seraphina. I'd hate to have finally found someone worth caring about only to lose her to magical politics."
"Try not to die tomorrow yourself. I'd hate to have to explain to my future husband why I'm mourning another man at my wedding."
"Future husband," Kael repeated thoughtfully. "Are you planning to go through with the marriage even if we succeed?"
"I'm planning to make that decision based on who's still alive and what kind of political situation we're dealing with afterward." I moved to the window, looking down at him as he prepared to descend. "But
Kael? If we both survive tomorrow, we're going to have a very serious conversation about what comes next."
"I'm looking forward to it," he said, and then he was gone, disappearing into the pre-dawn shadows like
The assassin he'd trained to be.
I remained at the window for several minutes after he left, watching the castle grounds slowly come to life as servants began their daily routines. Tomorrow, many of those people would be in danger because of choices I'd made and plans I'd set in motion.
But if our mission succeeded, they'd also be free from a threat they didn't even know existed. It was a trade-off I could live with, assuming I lived through it at all.
"They're confident," he reported, settling into the chair by my window while I continued the pretense of reviewing wedding arrangements. "Overconfident. They're so certain that their ritual will succeed that they've made minimal preparations for interference."
"How minimal?"
"Six guards at the crypt entrance, two more inside the ritual chamber itself, and a handful of lookouts positioned around the castle grounds. They're relying on secrecy and timing rather than overwhelming force."
I set down the ceremonial schedule I'd been pretending to study. "That's either very good news or a trap."
"It's good news. I've been watching their preparations for weeks, and everything I've seen suggests they genuinely believe that no one knows about their plans."
"What about Lord Cassius? Is he part of the ritual group or just providing political cover?"
"Political cover, mostly. He'll be present for the ceremony to witness the binding, but he's not one of the primary spell-casters." Kael paused, his expression darkening. "But Seraphina, there's something else you need to know about the ritual itself."
"What?"
"It's not just designed to bind the spirits of the dead. It's designed to bind the spirits of everyone who dies during the ritual. Including you, if you're killed trying to stop it."
The revelation hit like a physical blow. If I died during our attempt to disrupt the cult's work, my spirit would become part of the magical power they were trying to accumulate.
"How certain are you about that?"
"Completely certain. I've seen the ritual diagrams, and there are specific provisions for incorporating the souls of anyone who dies within the magical circle during the working." His dark eyes met mine directly.
"If you die tomorrow night, you won't just fail to stop them, you'll actively help them succeed."
I walked to the window, staring out at the castle grounds where servants were already beginning preparations for tomorrow's festivities. The irony was almost overwhelming—my death in service to protecting others would result in my spirit being enslaved to serve the very people I'd died fighting.
"Does that change your decision?" Kael asked quietly.
"No. But it changes my approach." I turned back to face him. "If I can't risk dying during the ritual itself, then I need to find a way to disrupt it without putting myself in direct magical danger."
"Any ideas how?"
"Several. None of them is good." I moved to my desk and retrieved my mother's journal, flipping to the pages that detailed the magical theory behind binding workings. "The ritual requires specific components —physical anchors for the spiritual bindings, ceremonial tools that channel magical energy, and participants who can maintain the spell structure while it's being cast."
"Remove any of those elements, and the working fails?"
"Remove the right elements at the right time, and the work not only fails but backfires catastrophically.
All that accumulated magical energy has to go somewhere, and if it can't complete the intended binding ." I traced the relevant passages with my finger. "It returns to its sources with compound interest."
Kael leaned forward, interested. "Meaning?"
"Meaning everyone who contributed spiritual energy to the working—including the cult members themselves—gets that energy returned to them all at once. For living people, that much magical power channeled through a mortal body is inevitably fatal."
"So instead of binding spirits, the ritual would kill everyone involved in casting it."
"Exactly. The challenge is disrupting it at precisely the right moment without being close enough to die in the magical backlash."
Kael was quiet for several minutes, considering the tactical implications. "What would you need to disrupt to cause that kind of backfire?"
I consulted my mother's notes again, cross-referencing the ritual structure with the information Kael had provided about the physical setup.
"The binding anchors would be the most vulnerable point. They're physical objects that have to be positioned at specific locations around the ritual circle. Destroying or moving them at the right moment would destabilize the entire working."
"How many anchors, and where are they positioned?"
"According to this, there should be seven—one at each cardinal direction, plus three at the center of the circle." I looked up from the journal. "Did you see anything like that during your reconnaissance?"
"Seven ornate skull relics arranged around a central altar, with candles and binding circles carved into the stone floor around each one."
"Those are the anchors. Destroy three or more of them after the ritual begins, but before it reaches the point of no return, and the magical energy will have nowhere to go except back into the people who raised it."
"And the point of no return is?"
"When the first spirit is successfully bound to the central focus. After that, the magical structure becomes self-sustaining and can't be disrupted without specialized knowledge."
Kael stood and began pacing, his mind working through the practical aspects of what I was proposing. "So the timing has to be perfect. Too early, and the ritual can be restarted. Too late, and the disruption becomes impossible."
"Exactly. Which is why I need someone positioned inside the ritual chamber who can judge the timing precisely and act at exactly the right moment."
"Someone expendable, you mean."
"Someone skilled enough to accomplish the mission and brave enough to accept the consequences." I met his eyes directly. "I'm not asking you to die for this cause, Kael. But I am asking you to risk dying for it."
"There's a difference?"
"The difference is that if you're skilled enough and lucky enough, you might be able to destroy the anchors and escape before the magical backlash kills everyone in the chamber."
"Might."
"Might," I confirmed. "It's not a good chance, but it's a chance."
Kael stopped pacing and turned to face me fully. "And what about you? If I'm disrupting the ritual from inside the chamber, where will you be?"
"Participating in my wedding reception while trying not to look like I'm waiting for news that the world has either been saved or doomed."
"That's assuming our assault team can get me into position without alerting the cult to what's happening."
"Master Dorian and Captain Marcus are good at what they do. If anyone can get you into that chamber, it's them."
"And if they can't?"
I was quiet for a moment, considering the backup plans we'd discussed, but hoping we wouldn't need to implement them. "Then I break away from the reception, use the skull communion to contact my mother's spirit, and attempt to disrupt the ritual using necromantic abilities I'm not entirely sure I possess."
"That's not much of a contingency plan."
"No, it isn't. But it's the best we can do with the resources available."
Kael moved closer, stopping just within arm's reach. "Seraphina, there's something I need to say before tomorrow happens and we potentially don't have another chance for a private conversation."
"What?"
"I've spent most of my adult life killing people for money. I've never cared about causes or politics or the greater good—I cared about completing contracts and getting paid." He paused, seeming to struggle with the words. "But somewhere in the process of getting to know you, that changed. This isn't about completing a mission anymore. It's about protecting someone I care about and preventing something terrible from happening to people who don't deserve it."
"Kael ."
"I'm not asking for anything," he said quickly. "I know the situation is complicated, and I know you have feelings for Prince Aldric that you're still sorting through. I just wanted you to know that whatever happens tomorrow, my loyalty to you is personal, not professional."
The confession was everything I'd hoped to hear and everything that made our situation more complicated. My feelings for Kael had been growing stronger even as I'd developed genuine affection for
Prince Aldric, creating an emotional tangle that I couldn't resolve while focused on preventing a magical catastrophe.
"I care about you, too," I said quietly. "More than is probably wise, given the circumstances."
"And after tomorrow?"
"After tomorrow, we'll see who's still alive and what kind of world we're living in. Then we can figure out what comes next."
Kael smiled, and for once the expression held warmth instead of sardonic amusement. "Fair enough."
He moved toward the window, preparing to leave the way he'd arrived, but I stopped him with a question that had been nagging at me.
"Kael, why was your contract canceled? You never explained what changed Lord Cassius's mind about having me assassinated."
He paused, his hand on the window frame. "Because he realized that having you killed by an assassin would make you a martyr. But having you killed during your wedding—preferably by cultists trying to disrupt the ceremony—would make you a victim whose death justified whatever political actions he wanted to take afterward."
"So he's planning to let the cult kill me?"
"He's planning to let the cult reveal themselves by trying to kill you, then use the chaos to eliminate his political enemies while claiming to avenge your death." Kael's expression was grim. "Either way, you die and he gets what he wants."
"Unless we stop both the cult and Lord Cassius."
"Unless we stop both the cult and Lord Cassius," he agreed. "Which brings our chances of success down to approximately zero."
"I prefer to think of it as a challenge rather than an impossibility."
"Of course you do." Kael swung his leg over the windowsill, preparing to climb down to the courtyard below. "Try not to die tomorrow, Seraphina. I'd hate to have finally found someone worth caring about only to lose her to magical politics."
"Try not to die tomorrow yourself. I'd hate to have to explain to my future husband why I'm mourning another man at my wedding."
"Future husband," Kael repeated thoughtfully. "Are you planning to go through with the marriage even if we succeed?"
"I'm planning to make that decision based on who's still alive and what kind of political situation we're dealing with afterward." I moved to the window, looking down at him as he prepared to descend. "But
Kael? If we both survive tomorrow, we're going to have a very serious conversation about what comes next."
"I'm looking forward to it," he said, and then he was gone, disappearing into the pre-dawn shadows like
The assassin he'd trained to be.
I remained at the window for several minutes after he left, watching the castle grounds slowly come to life as servants began their daily routines. Tomorrow, many of those people would be in danger because of choices I'd made and plans I'd set in motion.
But if our mission succeeded, they'd also be free from a threat they didn't even know existed. It was a trade-off I could live with, assuming I lived through it at all.
End of Princess Of The Skulls Chapter 15. Continue reading Chapter 16 or return to Princess Of The Skulls book page.