The king went willingly as the guards led him through the nave. Morkai followed just behind. With the guards’ backs turned, the sorcerer’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.
Cold certainty washed over Teryn. This must have been his plan all along. He wasn’t sure of the repercussions, but they couldn’t be good. No, they could be terrible indeed.
Emylia tried to remind him to breathe, but his breaths were already too sharp, too shallow, his vision going hazy at the edges. The next thing he knew, the Godskeep faded from view and sent his mind drifting into nothingness.
35
Cora had gotten used to the smell of burning paper, but she hadn’t grown accustomed to the grim contents of Morkai’s books. Nor the disappointment at finding nothing useful amongst all the references to blood magic, curses, and manipulations of mind and will. It was almost a relief to reach a portion of the bookcase filled with nothing but benign volumes—herbal encyclopedias, folk medicine, a regional guide to plants and animals. These made her feel far guiltier for burning them. Yet she followed her own rule: anything in this room that could be burned would be.
Her heart ached as she watched botanical illustrations blacken at the edges as fire lapped over a guide to flowers, but she reminded herself of the risk involved should she try to salvage anything. Should there be an unremarkable-seeming notation scrawled in the book, hidden amongst legitimate illustrations and documentations but bearing hidden treachery and dark magic, she’d be responsible should anyone find it in the future. She couldn’t risk that. Everything in the tower room belonged to Morkai, bore his essence, carried his energy. It all had to go.
As the book dissolved into ash, she tossed more herbs onto the fire and returned to the bookcase. It was three-quarters empty now. She felt accomplished so long as her gaze didn’t stray to the multitude of other bookcases awaiting their turn at being cleared.
One at a time, she reminded herself.No matter how long it takes, I will do this one at a time.
In preparation to sense the energies of the next book on the shelf, she reconnected to the elements. Shifting her feet, she grounded her energy, rooting her stance upon the stone floor. Then she breathed in the afternoon air carrying scents of herbs and smoke. To connect to the element of water, she glanced at the basin on the floor, filled with clear liquid. Fire was easy. Not only did it fill the hearth, but the open windows drew in sunlight, filling the room with a golden glow, warming her skin, her hands. She cast her gaze out the window and looked upon the vibrant greens of the forest beyond the castle wall, the emerald mountains dappled in chartreuse.
A note of longing cut through her meditation. It was such a gorgeous summer day. What she wouldn’t give to be outside, enjoying the scents of warm soil, a breeze that didn’t carry dark energies and the ghosts of murdered books. She imagined the freedom of the forest, could almost feel the soft earth beneath her feet, could almost hear the birdsong increase.
Mother Goddess, if I could just be anywhere right now…
Her thoughts drifted to the Forest People’s camp, and her longing deepened. She missed Salinda and Maiya so much more than she’d realized. The past several weeks had given her plenty to occupy her mind and time, and the same was true now, but such distractions had only prolonged her grief over losing her adoptive family. Would she ever see them again? She’d promised herself she would find them as soon as her kingdom was secure…
Her heart sank to her feet at the realization that the Forest People were no longer at the camp she’d left. It was well after Litha now, which meant the commune had already relocated, as they did with every season. To find them again would take tracking skills she didn’t have.
Would she ever find them again?
We will, came Valorre’s voice, and her heart trilled at the comfort it brought.If you can feel them, we can find them.
She wasn’t sure if shecouldfeel them, but she knew it was folly to worry about that now. Not when she had so much work ahead of her. Her kingdom wouldn’t be secure until after the peace pact was signed. As for the tower room…that could take weeks longer. Months.
Darker thoughts lingered at the edges of her consciousness, questions she still had no answers to. Would she ever get the chance to take leave of the castle? Could she ever return to being the witch she longed to be? Was her role as princess shifting into a commitment as future queen?
You’ve been sad, Valorre said.
I have, she admitted.
But furious too.
Yes. She moved to the window, giving herself a better view of the castle’s sprawling property and the towering walls that surrounded it. She felt how near Valorre was, could sense him on the other side of the wall, just out of sight.
You could sneak out again.
Her lips curled into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but she knew she couldn’t risk it during the day. Night was the safest option, but lately she’d been so tired after her work in the tower, she hadn’t even considered it.
Soon, she said and was about to apologize for neglecting him. Then she recalled his speech about treating him like a pet, and she decided to hold her mental tongue. Not that he wasn’t likely reading her thoughts right now. She could sense the strength of their mind link, could feel his care and concern. And perhaps a note of confusion. He’d checked in on her enough the last couple of days to understand what she was upset about, but as a unicorn, he couldn’t grasp the complexities of royal politics.
Valorre’s energy turned distracted.Oh, I know her!
Cora frowned, leaning closer to the windowsill. She caught no sight of the unicorn or whoever had caught his attention.What? Know who?
The answer dove straight toward her, making her bite back a gasp. With her attention on the ground, she hadn’t seen the falcon until it landed on the sill before her.
Cora hopped a step back, barking a yelp of surprise before she could stop herself.
“Highness,” her guard called from the other side of the threshold.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. She wasn’t sure if he could see the window from his post, but at least he knew better than to enter the room. “It’s just a bird.”
