His gaze softened. Placing his hand on my shoulder and squeezing, he said, “That’s the plan. This doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight, understand? I fully intend to show those bastards in Veridia City what we can do here. That they should never discount Feywood again.”
A smile crept up my lips. If anyone could do it, it was Ragnar Gregor. “Going for the bones?”
He swiped playfully at my nose. “Going for the bones.”
4
Rose
“Have we packed the healing charms yet, Rose?” my Aunt Morgana asked as she took a pouch from my hand and settled it in Ragnar’s travel bag.
I checked my notes. “Yes, I think we’ve got everything,” I said, tying a bow on an extra bag of protection herbs. Ash from a blackthorn tree and shredded mistletoe leaves—paired with the right spell, created a force field around your body that warded off any unfriendly advances. A few years ago, I’d experimented with protection charms and discovered that adding a stem of amaranth to this concoction made it not only a defensive spell, butoffensive, as well.
I’d used it once walking home from the forest at night and noticed a shadow following me. When I started to run and the strange man grabbed my arm, he bounced right off me as if he’d struck a barrier, and the sickeningcrunchfrom his wrist told me all I needed to know.
I had some fun with that spell over the years. Probably another reason I wasn’t a favorite among the town.
Wiping my hands on my apron, I straightened. “That’s the last of it. We need to load up the horses and we’ll be ready for the morning.”
The morning. It was strange to think the day was finally here. Tomorrow, we’d be leaving for Veridia City—which was only about two days’ travel, but given that I’d never stepped foot outside of Feywood, it might as well be a different world.
“About that…are youpositiveyou want to join us, dear?” Morgana asked, glancing at me uneasily.
This conversation was getting old. It was the fourth time she’d tried to convince me not to go. I opened my mouth to respond, but my cousin jumped in instead.
“Give it a rest, Ma. Rosie’s already said she’s coming. Why are you hounding her about it?”
I shot him a grateful smile. Morgana bristled but held her hands up in surrender, sharing a strange look with Ragnar.
I didn’t understand why she was so adamant on changing my mind. She knew how eager I was to see more of the empire, despite the growing danger. I’d glimpsed Celestria through the Feywood Forest and could see the outskirts of Iluze to the north over Lake Leznem, but had never been allowed to cross. All I’d learned about the other provinces and the capital were from books and stories.
I was most familiar with Celestria through my friendship with Beth. We traded with them often, and I’d met several other Striders, as well. Although we shared a water border with Iluze, I had learned to stay away from the cunning Illusionists at a young age. Their magic had always reignited a fear rooted deep within me. Anyone with power such as that over the mind couldn’t be trusted. The Illusionist challenger won the Decemvirate more often than any other province, so their magic was always much more potent than ours. I never wanted to face someone with that ability.
To the east of Iluze rested the province of Emberfell, the furthest from Feywood. It was home to the Lightbenders—people who could create light with a simple touch, bend it to their will and even form it into solid matter.
Emberfell shared a border to the south with Drakorum, the land of the Shifters. Being the loudest and most volatile magic wielders, I’d heard plenty of rumors about their people. Everyoneborn to a Shifter line could transform into some sort of animal—whether it was a partial or complete transformation depended on the strength of their bloodline. If I was being honest, I hoped I’d get a glimpse of a Shifter or two in the capital. The idea of being able to turn into something else, become an entirely new being, all within your control…it fascinated me.
The final province wasn’t too far from us, separated on the east by a small strait of water. Tenebra was the most elusive of the lot, incredibly mysterious and unpredictable. They possessed a form of magic called Shadow Wielding: the power to turn incorporeal darkness into weapons of the night. To control shadows. Their land was brutal and harsh, with the iciest and most mountainous of landscapes, and I heard the people were just as cold. Ruthless and aggressive, most of the deaths in the history of the Decemvirate had come at a Shadow Wielder’s hand.
The six provinces of the Veridian Empire formed a circle around the capital. Veridia City was an island surrounded by the Eldertide Ocean, which we would have to cross to reach the nearest port. I could tell Beau was nervous about that part of our voyage, even if he tried to shrug off my concern, so I made sure to tuck a few potions for nausea into his bags.
“Beau Beau,” Morgana started, gesturing to my cousin. “Will you pass me the—umm, the purple crystal.” She snapped her fingers, trying to remember the name. “Yes—that one,” she said when Beau pointed to the crystal on the countertop.
“It’s amethyst, Ma,” Beau said with a laugh, tossing her the small, sharp rock. I was happy to see his mood had lightened considerably over the last few days, back to his endearingly scatter-brained and affable self. “If you don’t know what it’s called, maybe you shouldn’t be using it,” he joked.
“Do you hear that tone, Ragnar?” Morgana faked a gasp, red nails on her wide hips as she shook her head in mock disappointment.
“Yes, dear, and I havenoidea where he gets it from,” Ragnar responded, jumping from the counter and placing a kiss on hiswife’s cheek. He pulled a thistle leaf from his pocket—one of the few charms any wise Alchemist always kept on their person, since it could break almost all enchantments—and waved it in her face. “And this is aleaf, Ana, my love. In case you weren’t sure.”
I snorted, and Aunt Morgana lunged at him. “Ragnar Gregor, you better pray to the Fates I don’t curse you in your sleep,” she said as she chased him around the front of the store. He turned and grabbed her by the waist, slinging her over his shoulder as she squealed. Beau shook his head but chuckled along with his parents, his bright gray eyes crinkling in amusement.
I quickly turned to the glass cabinet behind the counter, hiding my sudden shortness of breath. It would hit me sometimes when I least expected it—the longing, the heartache.
I wanted to share in their joy. I wanted that sparkle in my eyes. I wanted the smile of a mother and the embrace of a father.
The Gregors loved me immensely—and I loved them, of course. They were the closest thing I had to parents. They took me in as their own daughter when their world fell apart with the death of my mother and father, long before Beau was born. But no matter how deep their love for me went, I knew I would always be a reminder of the family they’d lost, of the life they were forced into. Of the blood that stained their past.
I was a piece that would never fully fit in their puzzle. Inanyone’spuzzle. People wanted neat, clean edges to mold into their idea of normalcy. Predictable. Ordinary.
