I think back to the visions, the delusions perhaps—have I, indeed, gone mad? It would make sense in the grand scheme of things. But I respond as casually as I can. “I used small amounts of my powers daily. Gardening, fixing small cracks in walls, chopping wood simply by controlling the axe with magic,repairing jewelry, etcetera. Whenever I could, I moved rocks and boulders in the forest on the outskirts of the city.”
“Clever,” the sovereign says.
“Thank you, Excellency.”
He’s silent for a while, and there’s only the sound of scraping forks and sawing knives. After a while, he says, “You don’t seem to be fond of your powers.”
Something between a cough and a gasp catches in my throat, and I clear it forcefully. “I … Sometimes I wish I were Ordinary, admittedly.”
Neris gives me an odd look.
“And you, Miss Reneris?”
Her eyes dart to the sovereign’s.
“Have you ever desired having powers?”
“Perhaps …” She smiles with a natural casualness that I envy.
“What if I told both of you that I’ve been working with a Mage on a ritual of power transference? It doesn’t work with mind magic or sorcery, but using Skinchanger blood lends to the possibility of transferring powers from a Wielder to an Ordinary.”
My pulse skitters, my blood running cold as I shudder. I open my mouth to say something, but my voice refuses to come out. Most people don’t know this, but powers are more than just an accessory that a person has; powers are a part of the person’ssoul. Unfortunately, I’m living proof of that; trying to carve my terraforging from me nearly killed me.
“That …” My voice comes out squeaky, so I take a hefty sip of wine from my goblet before speaking again. “That sounds dangerous, Excellency.”
He smiles, unbothered. “Every novelty is dangerous at first, Lady Gwyneth. It is a work in progress.”
What does that mean? I refuse to look away from him, not wanting to raise any suspicions. He smiles, and I swearsomething changes in his gaze. I cannot quite wrap my mind around it, but this man makes my flesh creep.
“The Shadow Wielder continues to defy me. If he does not agree to join the cause, I will relieve him of his powers and give them to someone else who does care to make this kingdom a better place for all.”
I’m barely over his last comment, but this one makes me feel even more uncomfortable in my own skin. I fidget in my seat.
“As much as I loathe the Purists and their mad attempt to rid Erleya of Magekind, they have had success in removing a person’s powers. I seek to simply … redirect it. Why waste a gift, right?”
Neris places her hand over mine as it begins to tremble in my lap. If my heart beats any faster, it’ll burst out of my chest.
“Have the pair of you noticed the blight worsening?” The abrupt change of subject makes my head spin.
In silence, Neris and I nod.
A strange darkness seems to shift into Rheon’s eyes, but when I blink, it’s gone. I need to get a grip on my emotions.
“The land is dying,” Rheon says. “I’ve heard the Purists are gathering sympathizers to overthrow Paramount so they can open the Veil at Fiada Purlieu. Ironically, we once thought that was the right course of action. That we could unleash Enidwen and use her power for the betterment of Erleya. What we didn’t know at the time was that not only has Enidwen’s spirit been in this realm for ages, but the Veil has never been fully closed. Like a crack in a foundation, it’s beenslowlyreopening, draining our land, causing the blight. It will get worse if left open—completely destroying all our crops and livestock.”
My brows furrow. Enidwen as in the enchantress of the Basduunai? Why would anyone want to summonher? And if the Veil is cracked, wouldn’tmonstersand Otherworlders be uponus? Not just our plants dying? “Apologies, Excellency. I am not following.”
“Ah.” He smiles and dives into a story about a mortal Grounder named Enidwen, who was taken to the Otherworld by an immortal. She forged a weapon in the Otherworld and used it to slaughter her lover, throwing off the balance of the realm before escaping back to ours. She went on to claim more powers for herself before summoning the Underling Prince. He was supposed to grant her unlimited power, but his spirit corrupted hers and she lost control. A group of Wielders and Mages called the Heirs of Dusk and Embers ended up defeating her. They banished her to the realm where the Underling Prince came from. She was thought to be gone, trapped forever along with the Underling Prince, but it turns out she’s been trapped in our realm somehow.
We’ve heard the tale before, but somehow, the way Rheon says it …
“If she summoned the Underling Prince,” Neris says quietly, “then that couldn’t have been the Veil to the Otherworld. Wouldn’t that be… theUnderworld? As in Lugda’s realm?”
“Oh, another clever woman,” says the sovereign. “But that is a detail we have been trying to figure out. If indeed it is the Underworld, we’re not quite sure what difference that makes. What we do know is that the Veil needs to be closed to stop the other realm from draining ours. And the Purists?—”
“—they want it open,” Neris interrupts. “Wouldn’t that let more magic in?”
“Not necessarily. But it may restore the full power of all the gods—good and evil.”
