Page 42

Still, no one came, other than the maid. She brought food, and I nibbled enough to ease my stomach. Sampled the water, half afraid it was drugged. I continued to sit on the floor, watching the light change through the window with the diamond panes.

There were no books to read. No paper and pen to write with. When I went crazy with the boredom, I practiced using mage energy to braid the fringe on the carpet. Anything to keep from imagining my mother trapped here.

At night, I rubbed at the bumps on my arms, chilled by the remnant of her torment. Or else it was Nikias I was sensing.

Regardless, time pressed inward until I wondered if this was the same magic used on the Davinicus ship.

Did all mages dull the sensations and play around with time?

Was this a lesson meant to teach me some obscure fact, like the poor fox the queen killed?

Because the wounded were not meant to survive?

Then a strange thought occurred…was I wounded?

Had Kion wounded me in some way I didn’t understand? The perfect day, when we chased Bogo and fell in the mud?

Or over a meal, when I told him about the Goddess and the man who suffered in her place? In the dark, when he said he didn’t like the man he was because of me?

I woke in the morning with a new goal: find the fox pelt the queen sent to Anoria. Prove my mother had lived here, and everything Anneli said was the truth. I had to get on with it, with what was waiting to begin, rather than sitting and living half a life.

Tearing through the wardrobe, I tossed aside clothes that were disintegrating. Breathed in the musty dust. I searched for some hint, some hiding place Anoria might have used .

I found nothing, and as I stood at the mahogany bureau and stared into the pitted mirror, what stared back at me was a gaunt face with white-gold bird’s nest hair and eyes haunted by the cruel truth.

Nothing but lies and deceit hid here, and I smashed a stone cup against the mirror.

Smashed at the decision I’d made to trust Anneli.

For thinking her offer was the best choice.

For fearing what I could not do or change.

The bloodied priests in their bloodied cassocks destroying people I cared about because they hated me.

I’d wanted to fight, to become what Anneli offered. Find the power.

But I’d found nothing, and as the mirror shards fell from the wooden frame…as my throat ached with silent sobs…I saw what Anoria had hidden so carefully.

The fox pelt.

My fingers wouldn’t stop shaking. I brushed the fur, fearing the pelt would fall apart after all the years; the fur held, still supple, the color of a summer sunset.

Someone had sewn silk fabric to the skin side of the pelt, and when I traced the pattern, the fabric crinkled.

I plucked at the threads. Loosened the edge. Slipped the hidden paper free.

My mother had written two lines.

Fear makes you weak.

Deceit requires courage.

“Senaria.” Anneli stood in the open doorway. She stared at the destruction as if she measured something.

I held up the fox pelt and snarled, “What mage fascination lives in the flaying of living beings? Do you crave the screams? The blood? Or the twisting fight as the helpless creature tries to get away?”

The silk-backed pelt was a poor weapon to use against a high mage, but I had nothing else. Anneli stepped back. She signaled to the guard. He walked away. She closed the door and said, “You haven’t been eating. Or sleeping.”

“I dream too much to sleep.”

“Dreams are powerful, Senaria. They hold magic.”

“Then the walls of this castle should have fallen by now, since that’s what I’ve been dreaming.” I would not reveal the tender moments, the trace of memory that was Anoria. Turning away, I said over my shoulder, “Why are you here?”

“To help you.”

“I think I’ve had enough of your help.”

“There are competing interests within the Stone Tower,” she said with her voice lowered. “Let me help you bathe and dress. You’ve been in this room for a week—although with the magic Halla employs, I’m certain you haven’t realized it. I brought fresh clothes.”

She gestured toward a blue woolen gown tossed over an upholstered chair. Fur-lined boots waited on the floor.

“I’d like to take you from the castle,” she added.

I wondered if my compliance came from Anneli’s magic or my mother’s written message about fear and courage. Slipping the parchment into its hiding place, I set the pelt aside.

While I sat in the heated bath, Anneli rubbed a sponge across my back until I relaxed. She scrubbed my hair and wrapped a towel the way a mother would .

“How did my mother tolerate it?” I murmured, staring through the mottled window framed by the deep stone alcove as thick as the castle walls. “It’s suffocating.”

“When she was a child, Anoria believed people were good,” Anneli answered. “As she grew older, she faced the ugliness and did what she could to survive.”

“Teach me what I need to know.”

“First, we walk.”

Anneli helped me dress, remained at my side as we left the castle and walked into the sunlight.

The pathway led to a garden with formal shrubs and sculptures.

Snow covered the surrounding mountains, but the castle grounds were clear.

Still, the distant snow put a chill in the breeze that made me shiver.

“Why did you bring me to Shiala?” I asked. “As torture for my mother’s sins? Or because a man smiled at me?”

“He smiled at his own success,” Anneli said.

“And I brought you here because you have enemies. You need the Stone Tower’s protection.

Do not trust Halla Taja. The queen plays a chess game with you as the prize.

But her enemies will never win. Tarian Ardalez, you know.

Eydis Khoth comes from the eastern frontier.

He has wyverns I hope you never have to meet. Worse than those of the red priests.”

“Tell me about my mother.”

“I liked her. Tried to teach her. She was stubborn, like you. She rejected the idea of being Skyborne, and I never knew her to call a dragon as proof either way. Her magic flowed naturally, the way yours does. But she refused to be used by the queen. ”

We left the garden and wove between slender pines with feathery branches. To keep our conversation private, Anneli spun a protective cocoon with her magic.

“Halla Taja had a cruel son,” Anneli said.

“But she wanted a Skyborne mage, even an unproven one. She ordered them to marry—your mother and the prince—and when your mother found out, she ran away. The prince caught her hiding in a small village. He ordered his knights to beat her into submission. The brutality went on for an hour before a black dragon appeared in the sky. He burned the knights…and the prince.”

I shuddered.

“I’m sure your mother was horrified, even beaten half-senseless.

Whether she summoned the dragon or not, she never would have wanted him to burn people.

She was too tender-hearted. But dragons see things differently.

Perhaps he was protecting her, or perhaps it was a random attack since dragons are unpredictable.

We’ll never know the truth of it, but regardless, the prince’s death is the one sin Halla Taja will never forgive. ”

The breeze kicked up; Anneli brushed at her hair.

“When help arrived, the children said Anoria had been burned by the dragon before he took her away. Skyborne are immune to dragon fire, so at first it made sense. But the children had been hiding in the trees with their eyes closed. They didn’t actually know.

Most people believed Anoria was dead. That she wasn’t really Skyborne after all.

” Anneli reached out to brush my cheek where tears streaked.

“Years later, rumors spread about a fledgling slipping through the Wall. And when another dragon vanished, Halla Taja wasn’t alone in questioning if Anoria had survived. ”

“The queen still wants revenge?”

“She hates,” the mage agreed. “But you alter the balance of power between realms, Senaria, and she will not destroy such a benefit. A Skyborne mage can neutralize the Draakon’s advantage and grant it to others—the highest bidder, or someone who holds the right leverage against you.”

“You mean Tarian Ardalez? Eydis Khoth?”

“Or the queen.” Anneli Zayas stared at the distant trees.

“Thales has tried and failed to destroy dragons. They annihilated the eyries and a generation of dragons, but not the species. The dragons became a greater threat, driven by hatred. Anoria offered a chance to change history until she was lost. But now…the queen has you.”

“She doesn’t have me,” I said tightly.

The high mage agreed with her own tight smile.

“But the one who controls you wins. Thales, with the red priests, would rise in power and threaten the continent. Dangira, through Kion Abaddon, can summon uncounted dragons, but Eydis Khoth is Abaddon’s sworn enemy.

Their hatred is unrivaled, and Eydis would like nothing more than to kill the Draakon and take his place.

Khoth is a powerful mage, but he uses magic to control wyverns.

He cannot talk to them. But with you, he would have the advantage. ”

“What of the queen?” I asked. “If she wants revenge?”

“Her power comes from the Stone Tower and the alliances she seeks, so she would use you as she intended to use your mother. Marry you off to someone hateful, someone from the Tower if she had no choice. But no matter who wins, the continent will face a power struggle greater than any ancient God could imagine. A game to be won while the innocent people suffer.”

“You paint a picture of myth.”

“How else would you see the reality?”

I plucked at the weight of the gown; the material was soft and comforting, and under different circumstances, the warmth would have been welcome.

But I wanted to be chilled. “Whose interests do you champion, Anneli?”

“Those of my house. The house your mother was destined to rule before Halla Taja interfered.”

I held Anneli’s dark gaze. “Is there a difference between the queen’s ambitions and yours that I should appreciate?”

“Would you rather be on the killing field asking for mercy, or at the top of the tower, delivering it?”

I clenched my hands at the suggestion of mercy. “What sacrifice would your house demand in exchange for power?”

Anneli smiled and took my hand. “Not much.”

She guided me through the trees to open ground, where the rotten stench wrinkled my nose. “What is that?”

“A styrmir worm. Your mother hated them.”

“I thought they only liked the desert.”

“This is the high desert,” Anneli said. “It is the sand they enjoy, not the heat.”

I looked around. “It’s near here? The worm?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “Trace the worm’s energy the way Silk did with interrogations.”

I aimed the magic toward her, and the high mage scowled. “I’m not the worm.”

“But I’m one of five—no, six mages who have tried to get into your head. The one survivor,” I added.

Anneli’s frown deepened. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I’ve never seen a styrmir worm, but from the smell, I’m sure I won’t like them.”

“Focus.” Patience was the struggle in Anneli’s voice. “Find the vibration, then send your magic into the ground and force the worm to the surface.”

I glanced at the sand, unsure of what I’d feel—worms weren’t people with emotions. “Is this like moving pebbles into chalk circles?”

Anneli’s laugh snapped. “Hardly.”

I held my hands out, palms down, latching on to a sluggish energy, while the sand grains heaved as if something moved beneath them. “Now what?”

“Wait until the head appears.”

My mouth gaped open. “And do what?”

“It’s a worm,” she drawled. “Either turn it around or kill it.”

The first curve of the worm’s body broke through the separating sand grains. I breathed shallowly to lessen the stench. “You’ll help me if I can’t?”

Anneli smiled and retreated, crossing her arms as she said, “Don’t falter.”

The worm’s energy changed from lazy to aware. Hungry instead of lethargic. Cunning. Hostile.

Matching Anneli’s tactic, I stepped back while my fingers curled. “I don’t see how this is at all useful— ”

The worm’s head pushed through the last of the clinging sand.

“By Orm,” I gritted as the creature continued to emerge until it towered above me. Wider around than my arm span. “This is the worm Kion bet he could fight blindfolded?”

“He’s always thought too highly of himself and his skill.”

“Skill enough for you to cheat,” I taunted.

“Pay attention,” she snapped.

The reek made my eyes water. The body segments rippled, swelling sickeningly. Dozens of wiggling things, like hairy feet, moved in rhythmic waves. The head was mostly mouth, a circular opening with rows of needle-like teeth.

When the worm swayed, I wondered if it scanned for prey through some other sense than vision.

I supposed that a worm living underground had no need for eyes, but that didn’t stop me from searching for them. For something normal about this situation.

My feet crunched on the twigs from a nearby tree.

“It tracks movement,” Anneli advised. “Sound vibrations.”

“You couldn’t tell me that before?”

The worm swiveled, diving forward with a blurring speed. The mouth chewed into the ground close to where I stood.

I screamed.

Anneli laughed as the worm withdrew, ready to plunge again.

“Use your magic,” she said, spreading her hands. “Like this.”

Waves of energy rippled through the air. The worm shrank back. When I mimicked her, the worm flopped onto the sand, the sickly white segments pumping like a minstrel’s squeeze box. All that was missing was the song of fame and glory.

“Now what?”

“Send it back into the ground,” the mage said.

“How?” The worm recovered quickly, rising; the mouth opened and closed with a sucking, gravelly sound.

Anneli leaned in and whispered, “Aim the energy and push. The way you did when you protected the horse.”

My fingers spread. The pressure in my body heated before racing down my arms. I pushed. Maybe too hard. The worm exploded in a shower of stringy, stinking sludge.

I screamed. Anneli screamed. Then the high mage and I stood there laughing, crying, dripping in gummy slime. Holding each other to keep from falling in the worst of the ooze.

A strikingly attractive man stepped from the trees. “This is your training method, Anneli?” he asked.

She smiled at him while holding me in an embrace. “Come now, Camael. Even you have to admit that was impressive.”

“All I’ll admit is the stench. Be sure you clean up before coming into the tower. The ritual awaits.”

My attention swiveled from the man, Camael, to Anneli. “What ritual?”

“The most important ritual of all,” she said. “If you survive.”