“A collection of lesser-known accounts—oral histories, personal recollections, and disputed reports.” Ezra lifts the book slightly, his fingers brushing the edges like he’s holding something sacred. “But one story stood out.”
We settle into the chairs facing his desk, the fire at the side of the lesson room crackling low. Nadya crosses her legs, already engrossed. I lean forward, bracing my elbows on my knees.
Ezra opens the book and begins. “Centuries ago, there was a female fae born with a rare gift—she could pass through solid matter. Stone, iron, even glass. A magic that rendered most walls and locks meaningless.”
“I’ve never heard of such a power,” Nadya murmurs.
Ezra nods. “She was careful with her ability. Her family taught her to keep it hidden, especially once the kingdoms started tracking magical bloodlines. But she was eventually discovered by a male fae who had his own ability. One that allowed him to siphon magic from others and use it himself.”
I straighten. “A siphon fae. That’s rare.”
Ezra gives a tight nod. “Yes. It is. But this fae wasn’t content with power for the sake of order. He was greedy. He wanted gold, dominion. He learned of the treasure vault in Hedera—one that held the ancient king’s personal fortune. It had been sealed with warding magic so complex, in lieu of entering in the conventional manner, only someone with the ability to pass through solid matter could reach it.”
“He tried to steal her power,” I say, already guessing the rest.
“He abducted her,” Ezra confirms. “Commandeered a ship and took off to Hedera from Alphemra. He would siphon from her every so often during their journey so she couldn’t escape. But she devised a plan. Before he took her to the vault, she hid her magic.”
Nadya nods. “Clever thinking.”
“Where did she hide it?” I ask.
“In a necklace she wore. An amulet,” Ezra says. “She channeled her magic into it. It meant rendering herself powerless, but it was a chance she was willing to take. She dropped it where he wouldn’t notice, just before they reached the vault.”
I glance down at my dagger, where my mother hid our magic.
“When they arrived at the vault, he tried to siphon the power as he’d done before—but it was gone. Useless. Without it, he couldn’t passthrough the wards. And when he realized she’d tricked him, he turned on her.”
Nadya’s eyes widen. “What happened?”
“They fought, but she escaped,” Ezra says. “Ran all the way to the castle and begged the guards for help. Told them everything. The male fae was arrested on charges of trespassing and attempted theft from the crown.”
“And her magic?” I ask.
“She searched for the necklace and found it again. Then she returned home to Alphemra.” Ezra closes the book, but gently, like he’s trying not to break the spell his story has cast. “She performed a ritual to draw the magic back into her. At first, her body rejected it. It caused sickness, imbalance. Her magic came back in bursts. Wild and painful.”
“Like me,” I whisper.
He gives me a steady look. “Yes. It was as if the magic wasn’t settling in where it was supposed to. Like it was a puzzle piece that wasn’t turned in the right direction. But the ancient fae performed a ritual that was able to direct the magic, to get it to shift in the correct way that wouldn’t hurt her.”
Nadya leans forward. “What’s the ritual?”
Ezra sighs. “That’s the part I’m still working through. The account gives some details, but not everything. There are pieces missing, because it’s a recounting of what happened, not a recipe book.”
My fingers curl against the arm of the chair. “Do you think you’ll be able to figure it out?”
Ezra’s expression softens. “I wouldn’t have told you this story if I didn’t believe there was a chance.”
Nadya’s face lights up. “That sounds hopeful.”
Ezra smiles faintly. “I may have to reach out to Alphemra. There’s no guarantee they will cooperate, but maybe they’ll take it into consideration in order to help one of their own.”
I breathe deeply, giving him a nod.
He turns to Nadya. “In the meantime, we should work on training your magic as well. You might have to share your knowledge from yourgreat-aunt’s book. If that’s all right with you.”
“Sure,” Nadya says. “If there’s anyone I trust with helping me out with this, it’s you.”
A knock sounds at the door, interrupting us. It swings open, and Sir Holden steps inside, his cheeks slightly red from the cold air outside.
