Black magic. The guards were right about that much.
It was Snow.
It had to be. She did this to me. She made me forget. Gave me new memories. False ones. A whole false life.
She made me blind. My throat tightens. She took everything from me and then hid me in plain sight. Right here in my own damned court.
It’s brilliant, in a horrifying way.
I think of all the summers I spent working in that records chamber, transcribing her quotas, helping her track which fae were meeting her demands and which were failing.
I helped her.
I’ve been helping her oppress my own people. Helping her send fae to the mines, to the fighting pits. To their deaths.
I didn’t have a choice. None of us has any say under her rule.
The anger builds in my chest, hot and fierce. She took everything from me. My sight. My memories. My kingdom. My very identity.
She took everything from my people. From fae and human alike.
I think back to all those moments when I could write. Yes, I needed the brass plate to guide my pen, but I could form letters. I could create characters on a page. I always thought it was some kind of miracle that I’d developed the skill despite never having seen a letter in my life.
Now I know the truth.
I could write because I was once sighted.
Of course I could. I’d written countless documents before she cursed me. The muscle memory was still there, buried deep. My hands remembered even if my mind didn’t.
And those moments when I could almost see. When exceptional music would paint pictures in my mind. Colors I shouldn’t know. Images of things I’d never witnessed.
I wasn’t imagining it.
Icouldsee those things because I had seen them before. They were memories, trying to break through the spell that held them captive.
My thoughts shift to the woman, to the performer with the beautiful voice.
There was a moment when we were connected – for just a second – I felt her pain, mixed with shame. Why does she feel shame? I also felt hope, together with fear, and such loneliness that it makes me grit my teeth just recalling it. I felt her emotions for a few beats of my heart through the haze of the blinding pain.
I know I did.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I can still hear her singing in my mind. That pure, powerful voice that made something inside me crack open.
Her big, fearful eyes. The way she looked at me when the guards dragged us both away.
Itwasmagic.
A surge of power that came from her, washing over me like a wave. Her voice and her magic combined, breaking through the spell that held me captive.
How?
She seemed just as shocked as I was. More shocked, even. Like she had no idea what was happening.
I thought she was human. She looked human. But humans don’t have magic. Shedoes, that much I know for certain.
Perhaps she’s a witch.
That would explain it. Witches can disguise themselves.
