King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(45)

Later, when I woke, we were beneath the red sky. From a distance, it always looked one shade of red—a crimson color that reminded me of fresh blood—but now that I was here, I saw it for what it was: shades of red that deepened even to black. It felt so ominous—a representation of the threat vampires had presented over the last two hundred years. How else had this landscape changed over time, I wondered. Did the rain fall in crimson sheets? Did the rivers run red?

Behind me, Adrian chuckled. “That is ridiculous,” he said.

I glared at him over my shoulder. “You live beneath a red sky and spread plague at will. How are my thoughts so ridiculous?”

He did not respond, and I sat up a little straighter in the saddle.

The sky wasn’t the only part of Revekka that had an unnerving effect on me. All around us were tall, naked trees, and while it was winter, it was evident that even in the spring, nothing grew here. The bark was scorched and black, the earth at our feet barren, and it was like that for as far as I could see.

I had never felt so uneasy, especially in nature, but this place felt wrong, and the only way I could think to describe it was that something horrible had happened here. I could feel it—a heavy dread that was just as present as the clothes upon my body.

“This is the Starless Forest,” Adrian said. “The trees—they sprang from blood.”

“What happened here?” I asked.

“Witches were hung from these trees during King Dragos’s reign,” he said.

I shivered. Revekka belonged to Dragos over two hundred years ago—before the Dark Era—and had declared that all who possessed magic should burn. Mobs formed, hunts began, and people who thought they would never kill were suddenly happy to murder anyone they suspected possessed the ability to use magic, even without proof.

It was the will of Asha, Dragos had said, to destroy evil.

“Do you think you would feel such horror if those who died here were truly evil?” Adrian asked, and I flinched, both at the fact that he had been listening to my thoughts and by his tone.

“Even the worst of us fear death,” I said.

I wished I could see Adrian’s face as I spoke. I wondered if he feared death, or did he feel like his existence was already some kind of end? Still, this wasn’t just the horror of those who had deserved it; it was the horror of the innocents who had died during the Burning.

“If they were not evil,” I said quietly, “what were they?”

“Powerful,” he said.

“Is that not the way of kings? To destroy those who would make them weak?”

“It is the way of cowards,” Adrian said.

“And yet you attack those who have no defense against your onslaught. What does that make you?”

“A monster,” he said without hesitation.

“Do you really believe that?” I asked, curious.

There was a difference between a monster and someone who could be monstrous. As much as it felt wrong to consider it, I wondered if I had mistaken one for the other. Once again, I was treading into dangerous territory. The moment I began to see the humanity in Adrian was the moment I truly betrayed my people.

“I can be anything. Your jailor, your savior, your lover.” His mouth was closer to my ear as he added, “Your monster.”

We continued in silence for a few moments as I turned over Adrian’s words. The more I considered what I’d learned of the past, the more questions I had.

“If your witches were so powerful, why did they not defend themselves?”

“What do you know about witches?”

I hesitated. I knew what I had been told. We had been taught to fear witches since we were young. Quiet, Nadia would tell me, or the witches will steal you away and gobble you whole! As I had gotten older, they had morphed into something far more evil, their atrocities shared via the histories transcribed by royal librarians and scholars of Cordova. They described a group of women who conspired to starve and kill kingdoms, spelling kings to tax and go to battle, hoping the people of Cordova would turn to them for support.

It was a twisted road to power.

But Dragos had discovered their plan and called for the hunt. The years following were full of fire and a fear of magic.

“None of that is true,” Adrian said.

“And I am supposed to believe you over a lifetime of history?” I challenged.

I felt him shrug. “History is just perspective. It changes depending on your side.”

“Then tell me yours.”

He took a moment to continue, and I wondered what gave him pause. At last, he spoke. “Two hundred years ago, a coven governed magic in Cordova. They were called High Coven, and they were dedicated to ensuring the practice of magic remained peaceful. These witches you think of as evil, they only wanted to nurture humanity and earth.

“But their leader saw opportunities to grow, to cultivate peace, so she assigned a witch to each kingdom. They would be a bridge between the king, his people, and the land. They were never meant to be weapons, but that was what Dragos wanted, and when they refused, he had them—and thousands of innocents—killed. So you see, your hero is really the villain.”

“No one is that good,” I said, unwilling to believe that the witches had motives so pure.

“No one should be.”

I was not completely willing to change my mind about witches and witchcraft, and it was difficult to believe that Dragos wasn’t merely doing what Adrian would do as a king. Had he not chosen to execute my people for their treason too?