“You are a tool, nothing more. Easily destroyed, easily replaced. Keep spouting nonsense, and I’ll demonstrate for the audience just how fragile you are,” Magnus warned.
The mace-wielding knight took another menacing step closer, patting his hand with the weapon. It was everything Hazel could do not to scream at them all to stop being so stupid.
And still, Merrill went on. “The aforementioned crimes barely scratch the surface of His Majesty’s transgressions against his own kingdom. Which is why, as of this moment, I am renouncing my allegiance to the Ragnaroth line, swearing it instead, henceforth and forevermore, to the woman before you, the future Queen of all Aetherium. Long live the Queen.”
The moments that followed were a blur. Magnus’s gaze trained on Hazel, dark with the promise of death. The audience was on their feet, some shouting accusations and obscenities at the King, others defending him.
Someone slammed into her, grabbing her hand as they went by, and Hazel found herself dragged away from the commotion. When she managed to get her bearings, she discovered it was Pimley hauling her to safety.
“Keep moving, Hazel. We need to get you out of the line of fire,” he insisted.
But as he pulled her from the grand hall, the shattering of glass could be heard above the din, and with it, the deepening crack in Hazel’s heart. She didn’t need to see the shards littering the floor to know Merrill was gone.
LOVE, MOTHER
The following morning, Hazel sat alone in her room. Again.
Since the truth had come to light and Slaide had, to her surprise, taken his banishment seriously, Hazel had found herself with nothing but time. Time to let her mind wander. To read. To grow bored. To regret that everyone she crossed paths with ended up hurt or killed.
She was shocked he hadn’t attempted to stop by and harass her about how she could have possibly survived the mirror a second time. Or how that event resulted in the mirror’s demise.
But he didn’t.
And it was in those boring moments that Hazel found herself thinking about him again. It was a dangerous path, for she kept going back to one of the last things Slaide had said. Magnus was full of half-truths. So why had she been so keen to believe them?
She sat in bed, surrounded by the fluffy, cloud-soft duvet, with the strange book set before her. Her kitty companion was curled at her feet, snoring.
It was the first peace Hazel had to herself in days, and she was about to ruin it by messing with her magic. The locket thrummed in anticipation, much to her annoyance.
Hazel pressed her palm into the book’s cool leather surface, feeling its bumpy grain beneath her hand. She ran her hand over the divots made by the etched runes, wishing she knew what they were.
Relax, she told herself.Clear your mind. After all, she wanted to open the book, not destroy it. So far, channeling her magic while upset had devastating consequences.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. As she exhaled, Hazel dove deep into her subconscious… and found nothing but darkness. The well of power wasn’t present, not even a thread.
Hazel opened her eyes, sighing, and found the cat on high alert, staring at her with his bright green eyes.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “nothing will happen if I can’t reach my magic anyway.”
His tail flicked in response.
She closed her eyes once more, determined to try again. She dove deeper this time, searching desperately for any sign of the power she knew swelled there. Still there was nothing.
Panic crept into her veins and her breathing intensified, so Hazel backed out quickly. As her frustration boiled over, she picked the book up and threw it against the opposite wall—and immediately regretted that decision.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself, scrambling out of bed.What have I done?She might have destroyed the book. She might have broken its spine or damaged the age-worn pages.
When her fingers brushed the cover, though, a zap ran through her arm. She recoiled, looking at her hand in confusion. For a moment, bluish light filled the runes across the cover, and as the light faded, Hazel rubbed her eyes in disbelief. She made to repeat the action, and the cat mewled sharply over her shoulder. But Hazel ignored him.
She touched the cover again, slowly allowing more of her hand to make contact. She received the same shock as before,but it was less jarring since she’d expected it. After the initial shock, the feeling leveled out into a vibration, spreading into her hand and up her arm… into the locket.
And that was when a possibility occurred to her… perhaps it wasn’t her magic that was needed to force open the book.
Perhaps it needed a physical key after all. And maybe the locket was… she shoved down her excitement as she pulled the pendant from beneath her clothes. It bounced excitedly on the chain as she unclasped it and lowered it to the cover.
For a moment, nothing happened. Hazel braced for impact, expecting the book to revolt against her or otherwise injure her for trying to get to its secrets.
Then to her surprise, the runic inscriptions began to glow again. Bluish at first, then lighter until they were such a bright white she could barely stand to look at them.
