I caught it with a jerk. “What is it?”
“Open it,” Harthon instructed, fixing his attention on me.
Everyone’sattention was on me, actually. Under their tangible scrutiny, I lifted the cover. The inside was lined with red velvet, and a single envelope sat face down in the center. Yellowing at the edges indicated its age. I carefully picked it up and flipped it over. A purple seal, carved with an intricate pattern of swirls, was attached to the upper lip. Gingerly, I pulled out the paper inside and flattened it.
Disappointment crashed over me. It was a letter, but it was written in a horribly smudged cursive, the words far lengthier than I knew how to read. Many villagers couldn’t read. There was simply no need for the skill. Merelda had made it a point to teach me letters, sounds, and basic words, while also expanding my verbal vocabulary. It was her version of “education,” and it was enough for me to speak well and stumble my way through official declarations that occasionally found our village, but this text and its smeared ink…I would need an hour to decipher it.
I glanced up at the four pairs of eyes that watched me. If I’d blushed earlier, my face was now flaming hot, embarrassment settling like lead in my gut. Frustration quickly followed. It shouldn’t matter. I’d never needed to know how to read, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of that. I knew how to do the things my daily life required, and I knew how to do them well.
Straightening my spine, I looked at Harthon. “If you want me to read this, you’ll need to give me time.”
North scoffed. Ana and Callen, for their part, didn’t react.
“Are you able to read?” Harthon asked, the question one of curiosity, not judgment.
“Yes. This is just more than I’m used to, and the smudged ink makes it more difficult.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to read it, but it’s good you have the skill.” He extended a hand. “Let me read it to you now, and you can take your time with it tomorrow to ensure I didn’t make anything up.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I handed him the paper.
He cleared his throat and began to read. “To Princeps Tamen, my brother, I must keep this brief, as time is short. Donon has called on themagvisto isolate the city. As many of us assumed, the act will save Centralis, but your land will suffer. He is too fearful to care. I know little but this. Themagviswill be the only being to know the way in and out of the city. Should she die, the knowledge must pass to another first. I am planning a way to kill her so that I can know the route, leave here, and bring you access. You are my King. You always have been. Skies willing, you will take the throne. Watch for me. Therion.”
Harthon’s eyes landed back on mine when he finished. “Tamen was Fourth Territory’s Princeps before me. As I said yesterday, Therion was the King’s advisor.”
The letter was testimony that themagvispassed on her knowledge of the path before dying. It was hard to deny that the recipient of said knowledge was me. But anyone could have written this letter.
“How do I know you didn’t forge it?”
He flashed a grin that was gone a moment later. “There’s the royal Centralis seal and signature. But the certain proof that I’m sure you’re seeking is in the material.”
I glanced at the letter. “It’s paper.”
“It’s paper made of lavender and charcor root. Charcor root onlygrew in Centralis. It also causes ink to bleed after fifteen or twenty years, which is why it’s no longer made. This ink has bled. I would have had to forge it when I was ten years old, and while I pride myself on my planning, that would be a stretch.”
I swallowed, searching for another explanation but coming up short. Marsik had complained about charcor root paper before, when he’d realized an old collection of letters from a young love had turned into a smudged, unreadable mess. Harthon was telling the truth about the letter.
But maybe Therion was lying.
I clung to the possibility like a lifeline, even as I asked my brain once more,Where are the tunnels? There was no answer.
“I still can’t tell you where this path is.”
“Can’t or won’t?” North challenged.
I shot him a hard look. “Can’t.” Then a curious thought came, and I turned to Harthon. “Themagviswas bleeding badly when she found me. If she got those injuries before leaving the Domus, the tunnel entrance must be in Third or Second Territory. She wouldn’t have been able to travel far with those wounds.”
Harthon inclined his head. “A human wouldn’t, but according to the stories, amagviscan withstand more than the rest of us. She could have exited anywhere.”
There was a lot of land in the six Territories. An infinite number of places where the path’s entrance could be.
“What was it like when themagvischanged your eyes?” Ana asked.
“Quick, bright, and hot.” There really wasn’t much more to it.
Harthon narrowed his eyes. “Take us through it step by step. Include all the details, even the unimportant ones.”
The details wouldn’t magically reveal the path, but there was no use in defying him now. If he wanted to waste time listening to the story, we would waste time.
