She curtsies again. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Her overly sweet voice grates on my nerves, but I smile tightly at her and walk out of the infirmary, joining Callum.
“Got your tincture?” he asks.
“I did.”
Once back at my bedchamber, I head to the balcony and fish the vial out of my pocket. It’s tiny, fitting in the palm of my hand, so I have no clue how Alys claims to have left a letter in it. Smash it, she’d said. So, I do, dropping it onto the floor of my balcony.
The glass breaks, leaving behind a rolled parchment that is too large to have been inside the tiny vial. My eyes must be deceiving me… I crouch and wrap my hands around the parchment. It is real, full-sized. My heart stutters in my chest.
With shaky hands, I open the parchment and smile at Alys’s beautiful, elaborate penmanship.
Dearest Carys,
I cannot apologize enough for telling you all of this through written word. I waited for the right moment but ran out of time faster than anticipated. Your mother thought it was important that you remembered certain details on your own, and I regret not disobeying her requests because there is so much that you need to know.
My dear, magic does exist. Mages are not extinct. They are hiding in plain sight. As history oftenrepeats itself, there are forces at work, attempting to purge our people from this realm.
I pause.Ourpeople?
Your mother’s illness is incurable. I believe if it were not for whatever potion or enchantment is keeping her alive, she would have passed from this realm. I am not sure why they’re keeping her alive, but it may be because they’ve somehow discovered her powers. Luckily, they don’t seem to know about yours.
What?
Someone in the fortress may be able to detect magic. For that reason, you need to be very careful. The amulet around your neck is a power dampener and may be keeping you shielded. As much as your mother wanted you to remove it, don’t. I’ve taught you grounding in hopes that I could eventually help you learn to control your flamewielding, but we never got the chance. I am very sorry for that.
Images flash in my mind. The space around me burning, my mother’s hand on mine, quelling the fire within. My breath catches in my throat, and I swallow thickly. Icy dread snakes down my spine. It can’t be… I hurriedly absorb the last paragraphs of Alys’s letter.
I wish I could explain more, but this is the best I can tell you for now. As for your marriage, choose someone outsideof Erleya. Someone less likely to give in to Iywan and the Council’s ways. If you fall into danger, speak to Angharad, the brig guard. She’ll know how to get you out of there, but it would have to be a last resort.
Dear one, dark times are upon us, but you can be the light.
With unyielding love,
Elviera A.
My blood runs cold, and my hand flies to the amulet around my neck. It warms to my touch as it always does.
Because I have damn flames coursing through my veins.
It should be farfetched, but deep down, I know it’s true. The air becomes too thin, my breathing too quick. I stride back into my chamber and toward the fireplace. Moments later, the paper curls and disintegrates in the fire, burning all evidence of Alys’s words.
Remember what happened to Aneirin. My mother’s voice plays in my head.
My mind reels, and I’m five years old again.
“Toss me a sword!” I yell to Aneirin.
He chuckles, the sound deep in his chest. I wasn’t used to his deep voice just yet, but he was getting older. Occasionally, it still cracked, but I hated that he was growing up and leaving me behind to be treated like a weak little girl. “What?” he asks.
“Toss me a sword, come on!”
He tosses me a wooden play sword.
I jump aside and let it clatter to the floor. Annoyance burns through me as I stare at him. “A real sword.”
“Why on earth would you want a real sword, sweet sister?”
I hold my head up proudly. “Because I’m going to be a warrior.”
