Illiana squeezed Mars’s arm and informed him, “Your sister is here, Mars!”
“Bryn,” Mars said, reaching out his hand.
Illiana squeezed his arm again. “Yes, Bryn and Rangar are here, but so is—”
“Elysander?” Mars finished the sentence with a voice that rose in hope.
Elysander clasped Mars’s outstretched hand. Her eyes scoured his face from the blindfold to his gaunt frame. “Brother. By the Saints, you have no idea how happy I was to hear you weren’t dead!”
They embraced, and Mars reached out another hand. “Bryn? Bryn, come here. It’s finally the three of us together again!”
Bryn broke away from Rangar to join her siblings in the embrace. The rising tide splashed at their feet, but none seemed to care. It had been many long months since the three Lindane siblings had last been together. Their parents had been slaughtered. Their kingdom usurped. Elysander had narrowly escaped the coffin herself, and Mars had faked his own death.
But they were together now, at last.
Tears dampened Bryn’s eyes as she thought of everything her siblings and she had endured. And now here they were, no longer children. Mars was king of the richest land in the Eyrie, intending to permit magic to aid the common folk. Elysander lived a daring double life as a Dresel duchessandthe Forest King, leader of a bandit troupe. And Bryn herself was queen of the Baersladen, a place she could finally call home.
We’ve come so far.
After the reunion, Prince Anter cleared his throat. “Friends, we must discuss the plan for tomorrow.”
Bryn’s elevated mood dipped at the prospect of the grand parlay. She said, “Rangar and I have made several discoveries regarding the wolf attacks, information we didn’t dare reveal except in person. I learned that the wolves mimic a legend—the berserkir beasts—that exists in some form within all the cultures of the Eyrie. The wolves also have black tongues, which harkens back to an ancient spell used by a dark Rumese mage named Zinder, who used a spell called the ‘speed-of-dogs’ to create vicious hunting dogs.”
“It is our belief,” Rangar continued, “That the Cheron royal family in Ruma, likely in league with the leaders of Zaradona and Dresel, employed Baron Marmose to modify the speed-of-dogs spell on wolves to create the berserkirs. They then released these wolves in the northern Eyrie region, knowing every kingdom would link the monstrous wolves to the old berserkir legend, and thus intuit dark magic was involved. They did it to sew fear of magic. It’s no coincidence the wolf attacks began right after Mars’s announcement to permit magic in the Mirien.”
Prince Anter let out a curse. Pacing in the sand, he said, “You brought this proof with you?”
Bryn nodded. “I have the books as well as a verbal confession from Marmose, though it’s his word against mine.”
Anter rested his hands on his hips. “So, we confront them tomorrow at the grand parlay with irrefutable evidence.”
“It isn’t that simple,” Rangar said. “Even if the evidence is clear, Zaradona and Dresel will still side with Ruma.”
“There is still the Wollin,” Anter argued. “Since Vil-Kevi and Vil-Rossengard each count as half a vote, that makes three kingdoms in support of magic, three against it. The Wollin is the deciding vote. Queen Amelia’s mind isn’t so far gone that she will ignore clear proof.”
Bryn shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid that’s exactly what will happen, but it isn’t because of her advanced age.”
She explained what she and Rangar had discovered about Baron Marmose using an influence hex on Queen Amelia.
Once she had finished, she turned to Illiana. “There must be some way to break the influence hex.”
Illiana’s mouth remained firmed in deep thought. “There is, but only the original caster can break it, and I doubt you can convince Marmose to do so.”
Bryn paced in the surf. “And there is no other way?”
“The influence hex will fade in time, but not before tomorrow. A spell of that nature usually lasts at least three days. Given the queen’s weakened mind, it will likely last longer on her. Perhaps a week or more.”
“We could attempt to delay the parlay,” Mars suggested.
Prince Anter shook his head. “A day, maybe. But the royal families would never agree to an additional week away from their kingdoms. Besides, Baron Marmose might simply extend the spell.”
Bryn continued to pace in the surf, letting the steady waves lull her mind into a calm place where she could think through their problem. If they couldn’t break the hex, then what could they do? She realized she was absent-mindedly stroking the death slumber hex on the side of her chest. She went still in the water.
“What if . . . what if we fight the hex with another hex?” she asked slowly.
All eyes turned to her. Rangar lifted his chin. “What do you have in mind?”
Wetting her lips, she said, “We could also use a hex on Queen Amelia. Something stronger than the baron’s influence hex. He isn’t a powerful mage. He’s just a basic caster with a few hexmarks.”
