Page 5

Chapter Five

M y vision was unsteady, my stomach churning, my hands trembling as I raised them before me yet again. Valoric had perched himself far from the bank of the lake this time and he was only visible as a glint of yellow eyes and the occasional flicker of a forked tongue beyond the tree line. Which, if I was honest, was a relief, because I seemed to be actually getting worse. I let out a shuddering breath, struggling to keep my hands steady as the heat of the magic built, crackling along my arms and peaking in the centers of my palms. I was trying bigger bolts today. I’d had the bright idea that those little sparks I’d been trying to direct might be more difficult to control somehow because I found myself too easily frustrated with them. But, as I already knew, the amount of magic discharged didn’t seem to make a difference to my level of control. Even knowing that, I couldn’t let it go today. With a scream of frustration, I hurled the magic towards the eye of the tree I was aiming for. Light split the clearing, forking off in every direction except that which I wanted it to go, slamming into the sand in several different places at once with a boom! and forming little molten craters all around the lake.

Pain split my head. I smacked a still-hot palm to my forehead, gritting my teeth against it. I was sure I could feel one particular vein pulsing away angrily, pumping agony throughout my skull.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck ,’ I growled, squeezing my eyes shut against my failure. My stomach was churning and there were bright lights bursting behind the dark of my eyelids. I couldn’t aim magic, I couldn’t aim knives, I couldn’t get anyone to trust me enough to give me any real help and I couldn’t leave this infernal place and I was so sick of being stuck here.

My ears were ringing with the aftermath of the strike, but I heard the footsteps crunching through the leaves behind me. I opened my eyes to find Mae settling down beside me on the sand. For a moment, neither of us said anything. I massaged my brow, teeth gritted against the sluggishly receding pain as I waited for her to begin.

‘Are you ready to learn to shield?’ she asked, stretching her legs out in front and leaning back on her hands, face turned to the sun as she basked in its morning warmth. I wondered at how she could look so comfortable, so at ease. The ground was still damp with dew, the moisture quickly soaking through the thin fabric of my skirt. I was cold and fed up with the sight of this stupid lake.

‘Yes,’ I sighed. ‘What do I have to do?’

‘It’s a layered technique,’ she explained. ‘It involves some complicated visualisation and a lot of focus, so you likely won’t be able to do anything other than sit while you do it to begin with, but if you practice, it’ll take less concentration and you’ll be able to shield while you do other things.’

‘Like fight?’ I asked. There was a challenge in the question. I wanted to know how helpful this would really be to me.

‘If you get really good at it, I don’t see why not,’ she replied mildly. ‘You can get there if you practice with the commitment you’re dedicating to throwing knives.’ She didn’t need to add and trying to work magic. The implication was clear enough, sitting here on the pock-marked banks of a lake I’d been terrorising with my efforts at self-teaching. I wondered if she thought my attempts were hopeless.

I adjusted my seat, trying to find the sort of comfort she seemed to be able to summon at will. ‘What do I do first?’

‘Close your eyes.’

Of course. I resisted the urge to groan. ‘So, I’ll be fighting with my eyes closed?’

‘Stop thinking about how this is going to serve you in a fight and just try it. You need to close your eyes until you know your mind, which I suspect is going to take you a while so you’d better not waste time complaining.’

I did as I was told, staring at the backs of my eyelids as she told me to visualise my mind as a dark lake with a calm surface.

‘Just like the one you’ve been spending so much time staring at,’ she said, her tone teasing. ‘It should come to mind easily enough.’

‘It isn’t very calm when I’m throwing lightning at it,’ I muttered, but she shushed me and bid me to focus. Every thought was a ripple, she told me. The goal was to have my lake as ripple-free as possible. After a few minutes of this, she asked me if I was ready for step two.

‘Yes,’ I said, though I wasn’t. The lake of my mind was as choppy as a turbulent sea, but how long was I supposed to sit here trying to calm it?

‘Then build a dome around it. A dome of thick, mirrored glass that will reflect out anything trying to get in. You have to believe in its strength all the way to your bones. Believe it’s impenetrable, that nothing can breach it or break it.’

But the word mirror only made me think of magic turning my face cold. Of staring at my reflection and remembering the scent of smoke, the clawing burn of flames. Of shattered glass falling around me.

‘Have you got that nice and clear in your mind?’

‘Mm hm.’ I tried to focus, visualising a dome forming over my stormy lake.

‘Reach out. Imagine feeling the glass beneath your fingers.’

I could visualise the dome easily enough. But reaching out to touch it meant I was in the scene beside it. There I was in my mind, reaching out my hand to touch cold glass, panic building in my throat as I took in my scarred face. No glamour to hide behind now. The truth would be revealed in every mirror I encountered, every reflective surface. A swirling mass of shiny, raised burn scars stretching over the left side of my face, warping my expression.

I only ever saw your scars.

‘Rhiandra? Are you alright?’

I opened my eyes to find Mae sitting up straighter, looking at me with concern. I was gasping, I realised. My breathing sawing in and out of me. I folded forwards, hands going to my stomach as I tried to reign in the panic, and Mae gently rubbed my back. When I managed a few deeper breaths, I settled back into my body, into this moment on the grass in the warmth of the morning sun.

‘You’re here too, Mae.’ I started as Gwinellyn dropped to the ground on my other side, mirroring the posture Mae had so recently adopted, seeming for all the world completely at ease in a way I rarely saw her. But when her gaze flickered to me, there was worry in it. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I’m teaching Rhi to shield her mind,’ Mae explained. ‘but she—’

‘—is fine,’ I said firmly. I didn’t need Gwin worrying about me any more than she already did. ‘Lake, dome, then what?’ I saw the look they shared, shooting past me as I leaned back and tried to affect a manner as peaceful as theirs.

‘It’ll be more effective to attempt the later steps once you’ve mastered the others,’ Mae said.

‘And I will master them. What do I do after I’ve visualised the dome?’

‘To shield her mind?’ Gwin turned her body to face us fully, crossing her legs. ‘Is that something I could learn too? Or do you need magic to do it?’

I caught the way her tone shifted from hopeful to disheartened by the end of the second question and studied her more carefully. Was she as fed up with the Yoxvese tendency to pry into her emotions as I was? But with a clap of clarity, I remembered the moment she had stepped off the tower, had plunged through the air on an order to jump . Perhaps she had her own fears to defend against.

‘You don’t need magic. Just discipline,’ Mae said. She walked Gwin through the steps she’d already taken me through, and I closed my eyes to try again, refraining from getting too close to the mirrored dome this time. I could believe it was real without needing to touch it. ‘From this point, you focus on layering the dome. Visualise surrounding it with anything you can think of to keep people out. A layer of ice, maybe, then one of thorns, then of fire.’

Fire. If a mirror had disturbed me, then I wasn’t going near visualising fire. I angrily slapped up a wall of glinting steel instead, while within the dome the lake of my mind roiled.

‘Are you ready? I’m going to test your shields,’ Mae said. When we’d both agreed, I felt the familiar, unsettling brush of magic on the bare skin of my arm. Immediately, the dome in my mind shattered, revealing the chaotic surface of the lake and all the emotion stirring there, all anger and panic and fear. My eyes shot open as Mae recoiled. She shook her shoulders, like she was trying to shake off whatever she’d felt when she’d read me.

‘It didn’t work, did it?’ I asked unnecessarily. Her reaction told me all I needed to know.

‘It wasn’t likely to the first time,’ she said. ‘It’ll come with—’

‘—practice,’ I finished for her, glaring at my hands as she tested Gwinellyn’s shield and declared that it had held for a few moments and that this was excellent progress, which made me even more despondent. If a mental shield holding for a few moments was progress, how much progress would it take to sustain a shield against a mental assault from a determined enemy? A determined enemy whose human blood had rendered his magic far more powerful in the realm of mental manipulation than Mae’s was. Could I really hope to defend against that with a visualisation?

‘You can try deflection as an extra strategy, which will work in a pinch and doesn’t take long to master,’ Mae said, seeming to sense what I was stewing on. ‘You repeat a phrase or a mantra over and over again in your head to confuse anyone trying to gain access.’

‘And that’ll stop someone from being able to break into my thoughts or compel me?’ I asked sceptically.

‘Well… I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘That’s magic beyond what I’ve had any experience with. We can read each other’s emotions here, but we never break into each other’s thoughts. As for compulsion… I honestly didn’t even know it was possible.’

‘Well, it is. Just ask Gwinellyn,’ I replied, flinging my hand in Gwin’s direction. ‘Tell her imagining a dome will stop her from jumping to her death.’

A silence settled over us. Gwin shifted uncomfortably. Mae seemed to be deep in thought.

Finally, I sighed. ‘Thank you for trying to help me,’ I said. Because I didn’t want her to stop trying. And I hadn’t given up hope that she would at some point realise the best way to help me would be to show me how to use magic. ‘I’ll practice.’

Mae rose to her feet, stretching her arms above her head. ‘Let’s get something to eat. You must be starving after burning up all that energy,’ she said, casting a glance at the nearest molten-glass crater. ‘And Gwin hardly ever eats anything for breakfast.’

‘Actually, can you give us a few minutes?’ Gwinellyn asked, smiling up at Mae in a way that made me immediately suspicious.

Mae glanced between the two of us, before shrugging. ‘I have to go down to the caverns anyway. I’ll see you both later.’

I eyed Gwin as Mae left us alone, but she didn’t speak for a while, staring out over the lake, dark hair falling loose from the low knot she’d tied it in to sway in the breeze. Valoric was prowling closer now that there were no longer bolts of lightning flaying about the place, his sinuous, scaled body shimmering as he moved through shafts of morning sunlight, yellow gaze shifting between us, like he was watching for any sign of conflict.

‘One of the wyvern patrols made contact with another couple of Lepidra,’ Gwinellyn said finally, referring to some apparently intelligent species that inhabited this infernal mountain range besides the Yoxvese. ‘They’d heard of fighting in the foothills of the easternmost reaches of the mountains, of more and more people hiding there.’

Ah. She wanted to talk about the war. Wonderful. ‘So, nothing new,’ I muttered.

‘If so many people are risking entering the Yawn, things must be getting bad.’

I fiddled with a loose thread on the drab loop of fabric I wore that passed for a skirt in these parts. ‘We can’t do anything about it.’

‘We could do something.’ She turned to me, regarding me with a solemn rigidity to her face, her dark brows drawn tight, pink mouth turned down.

My fingers stilled. ‘Like what?’ I asked cautiously.

‘I want to go to Oceatold.’

I snorted in surprise. I thought she’d been about to tell me to leave the valley and find my own shelter somewhere else. ‘I’m sure there are more convenient ways to get yourself killed.’

‘King Esario and my father were friends,’ she said, as though I hadn’t spoken. ‘He would help me.’

‘He is currently at war with your country.’

‘But he thinks I’m dead and my crown has been stolen.’

‘You crown has been stolen.’

‘Yes, and I can’t just hide here forever while my people suffer and die.’ These words burst from her with uncharacteristic heat. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath.

‘I don’t know what you expect going to Oceatold will do to help that, Gwinellyn,’ I said carefully.

She opened her eyes again. ‘This war can’t have the full support of the Brimordian court and the people. If I was to go to Oceatold and make my presence known… perhaps I could rally support to take back the throne.’

I laughed. Her face didn’t change. The laughter died on my tongue. ‘You’re serious?’

She nodded.

I tried to imagine her at the head of an army, perhaps waving a sword and charging down the enemy. The image was ridiculous in itself, but when I pictured her charging at Draven … it was downright frightening. He’d be laughing too.

And then he would destroy her.

‘I’m the rightful heir to the throne,’ she continued. ‘You’re the one who told me I need to start believing that.’

‘That was before a magical madman decided he wanted the throne for himself and the idea of you ruling became blatantly impossible.’

Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. ‘Rhi, he killed my father. I have to seek justice for that, if nothing else.’ My throat tightened as a hot flush of shame climbed my neck. Aether’s teeth, why did she always manage to make me feel ashamed of myself? I was perfectly content with my choices until she decided to wave them before my eyes. Not that she realized that’s what she was doing, since she believed I wasn’t complicit in her father’s death.

‘Then it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind,’ I said. ‘How do you plan to cross a war zone and enter an enemy country?’

‘Well… you’re going to help me.’

‘No.’

‘Rhiandra…’

‘I’m not going out there.’ My voice sounded tight. Panicky. ‘Not for all the thrones in the world.’

She drew herself up a little, rolled her shoulders back, lifted her chin. Her eyes took on a hard, determined gleam I hadn’t seen before. ‘If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this situation. My kingdom wouldn’t be in this situation. You owe it to me and to the people I serve to help restore peace and stability.’

‘Come off it, Gwinellyn, you aren’t going to guilt me into going on some foolhardy journey to certain death with you.’

She held my gaze with that steely look. It set my insides to squirming as the silence stretched.

‘I’d be no help, anyway,’ I burst out. ‘Look.’ I swept a hand wide, encompassing the crater-marked lake bank. ‘I can’t control my magic. I’m completely useless to you.’

‘I know you’re fixated on your magic right now, but I’m not,’ she replied. ‘More than anything else, I need your support. I just… I need you to believe I can do it.’

‘I just told you trying to cross a war zone—’

‘No, I need you to believe I can rule.’ She took my hand, her expression growing ever more earnest. ‘You’re the only one who’s ever thought I needed to step up to my responsibilities as heir to the throne instead of step back. I’d never even thought of it as my throne until you yelled at me in that infirmary because I was letting the council make all the decisions after my father’s death. I was always told my role was to determine who would be the next ruler by my marriage, not that I would rule myself. All my lessons… it was always about equipping me with knowledge to be a good support for my husband.’ She sighed, dropped her gaze. ‘My nurse used to tell me I was stupid. She was always criticizing me for being clumsy or for making mistakes or for speaking up when I should be quiet. She’d mock me when I had a fit and call me the little mad princess. When I think back over it… I think that was her job. Whenever I mentioned how cruel she was to my father, he just told me that she was helping me.’

As she spoke, anger began to heat my blood. Of course. Linus had treated her like a bridge to Prince Tallius, who he’d been grooming to take the throne. She had been his pretty little Snow White, a fragile flower princess with no wants or brains to speak of. Just a girl, so of no real consequence. Best kept fondly out of the way. ‘And did you believe her when she said you were stupid?’

She nodded her head. ‘For a long time.’

I’d been called many things throughout my life, some of them false, some of them true. A whore, a witch, a brat, a regret. I’d been told I was too impetuous, too angry, too selfish, too sly. But I’d never believed I was stupid. It would be strange, to face the world without the faith that you could outsmart anyone you came across.

‘I don’t anymore though,’ she continued. ‘But I think I have a lot to learn if I want to rule Brimordia myself. That’s why I need you. When I make it to Oceatold—’

‘ If you make it to Oceatold. And that’s a big if.’

‘ When I make it to Oceatold,’ she repeated firmly, ‘I’m going to need your help. I never learned to play politics. I don’t know how to negotiate an alliance. I don’t know how to rule. But you do.’

‘I was only really a queen for a few months—’

‘Which is a few months longer than anyone else I know.’ She pulled my hand towards her, caging it between both of her own. ‘Please come with me. Please help me. Help me put it to rights the way you helped him tear it all down.’

I pursed my lips, scanning her face. ‘I think you’re better at playing politics than you realise,’ I said finally, extracting my hand. ‘Fine. I’ll come with you. At least if I die for you, you won’t be able to keep using guilt to manipulate me.’

She smiled, seeming unphased by the resentment. ‘Thank you.’

‘When do we set out on this foolhardy journey?’

She stood, dusting sand from her skirt as she did. ‘I have an audience at Song tonight. If all goes well, we’ll leave within a few days.’

‘You’re speaking at one of their meetings? Why?’

‘Because I’m going to ask them to come with us.’

Of course she was. I frowned up at her. ‘I wish you’d told me that before I agreed to go,’ I grumbled. ‘I know you like them, but I don’t see how you’re going to convince them to follow you to Oceatold. This isn’t their war.’

‘Come to Song and you’ll hear it for yourself.’

‘And climb that infernal mountain?’ I’d seen them scurrying up that impossible walkway winding round and round the limestone mountain that stretched above the clouds. I never looked too closely at any of the mountains in the Living Valley. It made me feel sick and jumpy when I did, because some of them very clearly didn’t touch the ground and I had absolutely no way to understand how or why that was possible. ‘Can’t you just practice your speech for me now?’

‘You’ll be alright. Mae will help you get to the top,’ was her only reply, and she was already walking away now. I huffed a sigh, folding my arms as I stared out over the lake, watching the sunlight ripple on the water and feeling more frustrated with my lack of progress than ever. Because now I was going to have to take my faulty magic out into the world and face whatever might be waiting for me beyond the Living Valley.

Face whoever might be waiting for me.