“Summon your flamewielding.”
I stare down at my hands, still discolored from the dried blood I’ve scrubbed off. “I don’t know how to… do it on purpose.” But if I did, perhaps I can get out of here.
“Reach deep inside yourself and feel for your powers. Then envision yourself physically drawing it out.” She holds her hand up and a small ball of pale blue light forms in the palm of her hand. I try not to appear alarmed or even impressed, but the smile on her face tells me that I’ve failed at that. “Your turn,” she says.
“You aren’t afraid I’ll scorch your pathetic arse?”
“You couldn’t even if you tried.” She’s so sure of herself that it gives me pause. “We don’t have all day, Your Highness.”
I hold my palm up just as she showed me, and I close my eyes. Focusing deep within my being, I find something warm and foreign, yet familiar. As I reach for it, uncontrolled infernos and screams fill my mind, and repulsion drives the warmth away. I clench my fist as cold creeps into my bones again.
“Hmm…” Briony stares down at my fist and then back up at my face, lightly tapping her thin lips. “Try again.”
“No.”
She sighs. “If you’re not successful with this method, we’ll have to move on to less gentle approaches.”
“Try me.”
She raises a fine brow and makes a small sound in the back of her throat. “I’ll give you one more chance. What do you say?”
I glare at her. “Kiss. My. Arse.”
Another tight smile. “Suit yourself.” She pushes her chair back and calls for the guards. “Take her.”
My chest knots as the guards barge into my cell, one grabbing me, the other shackling my hands behind my back. The shackle on my right hand presses over the wristband underneath, and the metal bites into my skin. I draw in a sharp breath.
“Walk,” Briony says, nudging my back before stepping around me to walk ahead. The guards trail us as Briony takes the lead, the small magical light in her palm illuminating our way through the twists and turns of the tunnel. I try to make sense of the directions, to commit them to memory, but by the time we enter another chamber, I’ve forgotten every turn.
Briony flicks her hand toward the walls, and a ball of magelight illuminates a couple of small glass lamps. The space is barely large enough to fit the four of us. It’s even colder than my cell, and the stink of urine and fear makes my throat spasm. An armchair sits in the center, its metal legs nailed to the stone floor. The walls are drab grey, and one side has a metal rack filled with weapons. I quickly turn away from them as I’m shoved into the chair. My manacles are removed long enough only for my forearms to be strapped into a metal contraption on the arms of the chair, my palms facing up. My ankles are next, immobilized by chains around the base of the chair.
On instinct, I tug against the bonds, my heart pounding in my ears, my stomach twisting into knots. The guards step away, standing on either side of the door, while Briony crouches and stares into my eyes. “What did you discover inThe Book of Agryna?”
I don’t so much as blink.
She sighs like I’m a minor annoyance and straightens so she’s towering over me. “You won’t cooperate for training. You won’t answer questions. What will you answer to?”
Ironically, I don’t have an answer to that, so I keep staring at her. I don’t know what they’re going to do to me if I continue to show defiance, but I fear telling them aboutThe Book of Agrynawill put more people than just me in danger.
“Send for Iywan,” Briony says.
My muscles tense and her sandy brown hair sways as she walks toward the door. She takes the place of Cadet Aela, who steps out of thesmall space. Time ticks by for an eternity before footsteps approach. Briony moves aside for Cadet Aela to reclaim her place, and Iywan enters with his hands behind his back. The royal advisor broach is still pinned against the breast pocket of his robe. What an insult.
“You’re not worthy of your title,royal advisor. What would my mother say to you if she knew what you were up to?”
“I’m doing what she didn’t have the courage to do,” he says plainly. “To actually teach you how to access your power. All you have to do is give us some answers.”
“I don’t know anything.”
He pulls a book out from behind his back and the gold symbol in the worn leather cover glints in the magelight.The Book of Agryna. My pulse scurries as Iywan opens the book to a page I’ve earmarked and holds it up in front of my face.
The passage reads:The daughter of Agryna and Ehlach shall stand resolute and restore balance to the realm. It’s quite vague really. But a handwritten note in the margins of a different page implies that the prophecy is incomplete, and the mythos of Enidwen redacted—it redirects the reader to the full text found inThe Song of Moonlight. A book I’ve never seen or even heard of.
“Read.” There’s no room for argument in Iywan’s voice.
“I can’t.”
“Don’t lie to me. You’ve been reading in the Ancient Tongue without even knowing it all this time.”
