Now, I felt the opposite of before. These were true words, true statements. The Crown of Nine was not something I could just put on my head and hope that everyone kneeled to it. The Crown required power, a force I did not yet possess, magic to mirror whatever made it so special.
Tyrn’s state, the awful way his mind seemed to fracture, did not bode well for my future. If magic could protect me from the same demise as my uncle, I would need as much of it as I could get.
“Yes, all right,” I whispered, feeling something permanent press down on my shoulders and tighten around my chest, squeezing the breath from my lungs. “I would like to learn,” I rasped anyway. “Please, show me.”
ChapterSeventeen
For the next three days, Ravanna worked with Katrinka and me to bring out our magic. She was surprised when I told her I could read runes, but she did not ask how it was possible, nor did I tell her about the Bog Witch. But Katrinka could also read them, so I thought that might have been more mysterious than even my knowledge.
Later, when I asked her if she’d had done to her what the Bog Witch had done to me, she said she hadn’t. That she had always just seen the runes and thought I could too.
Tyrn was said to be resting while we learned and practiced our new skills. I asked if he had ever used magic, but Ravanna explained that magic was for women. Men had other powers, such as greed and oppression. And each of us should stick to what we’re good at.
I did not wholly agree with her. While I knew some kings to be cruel and power hungry, I also knew many who were not, who loved their lands and their people, and wanted the best for both.
Taelon. I knew Taelon. And I knew him to be fair and just, loyal and kind. He was not swayed by the promise of power or the intent to hurt others. He wanted what was good for the people of this realm.
Even now, he fought to rid the realm of the Ring of Shadows. Even now, he was in Heprin, answering Gunter’s call.
I knew Hugo too. And my father. He had been a good king. A fair king. I did not remember all, but I knew he was not an evil or oppressive man.
I knew Katrinka also struggled with the Cold Queen’s assessment, but we chose not to argue. Instead, we simply learned as much as we could from her.
Katrinka was much faster at learning her spells and casting her magic. By the end of the first hour of practice, she could light a candle from across the room with just a wave of her hand. It took me all day to light a candle right in front of me.
Ravanna assured me that it was normal for someone as old as me, who had never been exposed to magic before, to struggle. I struggled because Katrinka was only two years younger than I was.
“First, you have to make magic possible inside your own head,” she’d explained. “And then itwill bepossible in the world.”
But that was where I struggled. I hadn’t only been in the dark about magic and casting and my mother’s pagan line. I had grown up in a monastery for the Light. The Brotherhood shunned all magical things and would have handed any proclaimed pagan over to the royal guard.
Katrinka, who had been left to her own devices and libraries full of books that spurred on her imagination, did not make mental boundaries for what was possible and what was not. She simply believed anything could happen.
Also, I suspected her to have a natural talent for it. But Ravanna never allowed her to rest in the ease of inherent ability. She pushed both of us to our limits.
By the end of the third day, I could feel the power surge through me when I spoke charms or incantations. I could do little more than light a candle and then move it across a table. But it was more than I had ever believed was possible before.
We had just worked through a protection charm that was supposed to keep one from contracting sickness when exposed as Mrs. Blythe appeared at the library door. She didn’t make a sound, but Ravanna looked up and moved toward her.
“I’ll be right back, girls. Your uncle needs me.”
She left abruptly, and Katrinka and I were suddenly alone in her private space, surrounded by her potions and elixirs. I felt the urge to rifle through everything but knew it would be a terrible idea. There was no other possible outcome than getting caught right in the middle of my snooping. I didn’t need magic to know that.
Katrinka looked at me and smiled. “Did you ever imagine such a world existed? Real magic, Tessa. Real magic.”
I grinned back. “Not a clue.”
She sobered and looked seriously around the room. “I suppose we must be careful. This must be why Mama died. Why Papa and our brothers died too.”
Opening my mouth, I intended to agree with her, but something held me back. The mystery of our family’s deaths was not that simple. I knew that in the center of my being. This was part of the reason, but not the whole of it.
As if to confirm my suspicions, a beam of light caught my attention. During the day, this room was flooded with sunlight. Ravanna often kept the balcony doors open so more light would flood the space and we could catch the afternoon breeze. But now we were in twilight hours. It was growing late enough that I was anxious to look at the cemetery again.
Watching the bulbs of the flowers spark with light had become one of my favorite things about Fenwick Keep. And it never failed that they would start to glow at exactly the same time as the first stars made their appearance for the night.
Ravanna’s home was cold in so many ways. But then there were bursts of warmth and allure, just like the queen herself.
The light that did not belong at this hour danced along the wall where books were piled high. Shelves could have organized them, but Ravanna had stacked them hastily on the floor instead, as though she’d been working through them book by book.
