Page 34

North Star

When the ship docked in the south of Temauten, Adelina guided the horses through the village. She’d need to sell Damir’s. There wasn’t any way she could travel quickly by herself with the two animals.

After a brief venture through the town, she found a local stableman and begrudgingly sold the horse. She stashed the bag of ruble, then mounted, riding fast onto the pastures stretching ahead. There was no time to waste—the quicker she rescued her husband, the better.

Galloping along the path, specks of dust plumed into the air, her hair billowed behind her, and the heat of the midday sun beat against her face. She shook the reins, urging her mount to carry her farther, faster.

In the pine forest, she hobbled the horse, then made camp within the trees. Crumpling to the ground, her heart stung with the memory of Damir. The silence overwhelmed her senses. She gripped a nearby tree trunk, and clutched her chest with her spare hand, while sucking in ragged breaths.

“Keep it together.” Her voice was thin, but she injected as much confidence into it as she could. “He needs me, and I’m the only one who can help him.”

Closing her eyes, she focused on her deep inhalation followed by the slow release of air. Her pounding heart rate slowed, and she set about gathering sticks for a fire.

Once the twigs and sticks were piled together, she flicked her finger—an array of gold and red flame burst from the construction.

She rummaged in her bag for her spell book, then knelt beside the fire. If there was more she could learn about her astral magic, she couldn’t waste the opportunity. Landing on the page where she’d found the golden embroidery spell, she scanned the text again.

The text continued onto the overleaf—information she’d reread countless times since learning how to harness her astral power in the form of a weapon around her arm.

Frowning, she halted on the next chapter. A blank page with an ethereal shimmer. She’d seen this on the boat but had put all her focus on the golden embroidery spell. Now she wondered what this meant. Skimming through the book, she found only one chapter to be blank, each page shimmering.

She flipped the book to the last page—a reference.

To access concealed pages, one must prove their worth by finding the answer to the following riddle :

I never rest; I am never still. I am the keeper of the world. Without me, all will peril. And when I am not around, all is cool and darkness falls.

Adelina tapped the edge of the page; she was never one for solving them, but there had to be a connection between the riddle and her astral magic. Why else would it be etched onto the parchment?

Lifting her chin, she stared into the fire, searching her mind for an answer. Her magic was natural—she knew that much. But despite her best efforts, no obvious solution came to mind.

Resting the book on top of her bags, she wandered around the camp, fixing her tent for the night, all the while repeating those words over and over in her mind. She set up snares, and waited for a rabbit, then she slumped beside the fire again, drumming her fingers on her knee.

I never rest; I am never still. I am the keeper of the world.

The first line suggested mother earth, for she kept the world in its continuous cycle of life.

Without me, all will peril.

Such a thing could reference anything—the winds, the many oceans, even the endless forests.

When she finally settled down to skin and roast a rabbit from the snare, she considered the final line of the riddle and how it tied into the rest.

And when I am not around, all is cool and darkness falls.

Chewing the inside of her cheek, she searched her mind, trying to break down the words into something of meaning. Even long after she’d eaten her food, she was still without answers .

With an impatient huff, she crawled into her tent, tossed the blankets over her, and closed her eyes. But her mind wandered, tried to decipher the message. She hadn’t realised she’d drifted to sleep, not until she jolted upright in the dead of night.

As if her magic had stirred within her, continued its search during her subconsciousness, it led her back to the book. With a blanket thrown around her shoulders, she brought the pages closer, using the firelight to drench the parchment in a warm glow.

“Of course,” she muttered. “The answer is light.”

But the enchantment on the pages did not shift. Frowning, she placed her fingers on her chin. There must be a deeper connection to her magic. If the answer was indeed light, then perhaps using a spell to conjure a flame would reveal the hidden passage.

“ Areiras therasi. ” She swirled her finger, and a spark sprouted from the tip.

She grinned as the page’s shimmer faded away, revealing neat calligraphy underneath.

Sword of Light , an enchanted weapon for the strongest of astral sorcerers.

Scanning the calligraphy, she absorbed the information as quickly as she could.

To obtain such a weapon, the wielder must complete three challenging yet deeply rewarding tasks.

Step one: Travel to the tallest peak in the Salken Mountains.

There, the sorcerer must produce a sacrifice to Perun, God of thunder, justice, and war.

Only then will He present himself, and if he deems the sorcerer pure of soul, He will present them with enchanted obsidian. This will be used to make the sword .

Step Two: Venture into the navel of the world—the deep sea.

Find Uldan Island. The sorcerer is required to give blood to the World Tree, and in turn, they will receive Alatyr—father to all stones.

Such a stone is endowed with healing and magical properties.

It must be fitted into the sword’s pommel.

Step Three: Cross the rocky terrain of the Svatken Peninsula and find the deepest cave.

There, the sorcerer of astral magic will be reacquainted with an old friend.

Call upon Svarog, God of the sun, fire, and forge.

Present him with the obsidian and Alatyr stone, and the Sword of Light will be forged.

And in the footnote, further instructions were scribed.

To cloak these pages, conjure the spell ‘Therasi anthilis’.

She said the words with a twirl of her hand, and the ink faded until the pages were blank, and the shimmering surface returned.

Collapsing onto her buttocks, her lungs tightened, and her chest ached as if the air had been knocked straight out of her.

This was a crazy, absurd mission. Was it even necessary?

How could she know for sure when she didn’t know or understand the extent of Filip’s magic?

He’d refused to practise in the Prism World with her.

She tucked the book away, saving what she’d learned for later, should she need it. Her most pressing concern was Damir. What if she could find a way to get past Filip and his guards? Despite the stacking odds, she needed to do whatever she could to get her husband back.

∞∞ ∞

Galloping through the passing days, Adelina only stopped to water and feed the horse as well as line her own stomach and refill her flask. She didn’t know for sure where Filip had taken her husband, but there was also no reason he wouldn’t return to the palace with his captive.

As the sky shifted into an inky darkness on the third day of riding, she fastened her horse’s reins to a branch and set up camp.

Stifling a yawn, she grabbed a worn blanket from her bag, tossed it onto the ground beside the fire, and folded herself against it.

Within a few moments of closing her eyes, she drifted into sleep.

A nearby rumble of laughter jolted her awake. She shot upright, scanning the shadows for any sign of threat. The fire had burned out, so if anyone was hunting for her, she wouldn’t be easily spotted.

She rose and trod slowly to her horse, taking care over the leaves and twigs beneath her feet. The animal nickered.

“Shh,” she whispered as she stroked its nose. Her gaze darted from one tree to the next.

A low-pitched voice muttered something close by.

From her position, she couldn’t make out the exact words.

The southern forests weren’t places people camped unless it was necessary.

If she could get closer to the chattering men, she might be able to recognise the armour or a tell-tale sign linking them to the palace.

If they were soldiers, perhaps they could lead her to Damir—or she could gleam information from them about his whereabouts.

Under the cloak of night, she couldn’t rely on her golden magic, lest she reveal her stealthy position.

Instead, if challenged, she’d have to rely on her combat training—her skills had improved thanks to her continued practice on the ship—and the small blade she kept in her bag.

Withdrawing it, she gripped the hilt and followed the gravelly voices.

Bright orange light burst through the trees, and she darted behind a trunk. Holding her breath, she dared to glance around. Soldiers. Four of them. And a fire.

“Bloody hell, it’s freezing,” one soldier grunted as he shifted closer to the flames and rubbed his hands together.

In truth, she hadn’t noticed the night breeze, for the adrenaline flooding her veins warmed her.

“Get the meat on to roast, will ye,” another soldier said as he kicked off his boots and leaned against his bag.

The third soldier, who’d set about skinning an animal of some sort, chuckled. “We’ll have to be quick to leave in the morning. Filip’s patience is wearing thin.”

Her back pressed against the trunk’s rough bark. While there was no sign of Damir or Filip, those soldiers were his men. How could she get their location from them? She was outnumbered. But she had to try.

“I’m going for a piss,” one of the men said.

Leaves crunched underfoot as he neared her hiding position. Veiled by shadows, she held an advantage .

When the man strolled ahead of her, ducking into the bushes, he unbuttoned his breeches. She pushed off the tree, for fear she might miss her opportunity.