CHAPTER ONE
The appearance of victory can be a temperamental thing. One minute it’s there, and the next it’s gone.
Everyone in that room thought Kemma’s new baby had saved them. There was a tangible shield of magic covering the room, and even though they were still trapped within it, there was a good possibility that they had a way out now; the baby had power. And not just any power, but all of the powers that Baldur once had since before Freya’s prophecy was even woven into a destiny. The baby was quite possibly more powerful than any of them in the room, even when they had their magic at full-force, and perhaps even more powerful than Lopt. For Freya had not only bestowed her son’s power onto the chosen descendent child, but she had infused it with all the might and vengeance that she’d had back then, and it had fermented and grown throughout all the years that the baby had waited to be conceived in fate.
Just as a single drop of water can trickle down and join others to form a larger pool, so had been the case with the power this child now possessed; all of the magic, beginning with Freya and traveling throughout all of her decedents and Lopt’s, had been infused into this child. There was no reason for them to think anything other than how probable their salvation now was—until the baby reminded them that there was more inside of it than merely Freya’s prophecy. The child had been hexed.
As the tiny boy lashed out at those around him, no one could have predicted or stopped what happened. The only motion he made as he laid against his mother’s chest, was a small but forceful squeezing of his eyes shut, and when he reopened them, his tantrum raged against the first people he saw. The lightly colored fog that kept them protected from the mortals outside the door reached toward Brynlee and then toward Trey, who were the first two people in the infant’s field of vision as he looked out from Kemma’s arms.
The juniper mist twisted around each of them as if it were a coiling snake, and within the time of a single breath, had crushed them both into a pile of dust and bone on the floor. Abigail screamed, and Erik ran to the spot were Brynlee had stood. He touched his fingers to the pile of sand that was all that remained of her. The others were stupefied and didn’t know whether to try to protect themselves from this small baby or to try and kill it immediately.
“Stop it!” Tara shouted at the baby. She marched up closer to it and looked him in his eyes.
Cai reached to grab her and pull her away from the dangerous thing, but he stopped when Tara continued to talk with the boy.
“Stop it right this instant! You are being bad!” She wagged her finger in front of the baby’s face.
Even Kemma now held the child farther from her breast as she, too, was scared of him.
Tara, however, was not scared of him at all. She was simply furious and upset. “You just killed my sister, you little monster! After all I have done to help you! You stop this right now, or I will crush your little skull myself!” She flailed Button around in his face as though it made her threat even more severe.
The baby looked at her, and then as if on command, it closed its eyes. This time, it didn’t push its eyelids shut in anger; it simply closed them and fell asleep.
“How did you get it to do that?” Cai asked her. He wiped away the tears that fell from his eyes as he spoke.
Brynlee was Gretel’s eldest sister, whom he had sworn to protect, and now she was gone in one split second as she stood before them. But he didn’t have the luxury of taking time to mourn right now; they were all still in danger. He wiped his face dry and then wiped Tara’s face as he knelt in front of her and tried to figure out how she had tamed the baby’s fury.
“I dunno,” Tara shrugged as she sniffled and tried not to look at the pile of dust that was her sister just moments ago. “He listens to me for some reason. He’s not all bad; he’s just upset.”
“Why is he upset?” Kemma asked from behind her on the bed. “He wanted to be born, and