Ethlet and Eli exchange glances. ‘Ethlet here is my cousin. Do you remember her saying that in the graveyard? She was also my father’s apprentice. This,’he indicates the small, cosy lounge, and the roof over their heads, ‘is –was– his home. His and Ethlet’s.’
‘So you’re a … what kind of apprentice are you?’ Lowri asks Ethlet.
‘I’m not actually very much of anything yet. It was Eli’s father who was good at shadow and light magic.’ She swallows. ‘I hadn’t really thought about what I am now that he’s gone. Untrained, I suppose.’
There’s a stretch of silence before Eli speaks. ‘Is that why you told us we shouldn’t have come? Because there are no answers here?’
Ethlet shakes her head, swiftly gathering up the used mugs and plates and placing them back on the tray. ‘No, it’s not that. The fog? It’s an overuse of magic. It drips over everything, like ink, and no one can rid the city of it. The fog is everywhere; there are few patches of sky left that haven’t been consumed. Your father, my uncle, was trying to find a way to remove the fog. He discovered a way to create a portal and crossed into your world, back before I was born. But when he returned with his research, ready to show to the society, he found that he couldn’t return to your world. He couldn’t find a doorway to you.’ She bites her lip. ‘I’m afraid that you may not be able to get to your world either now. You might be stuck here in Fallow.’
Eli and Lowri exchange a hurried glance before Eli clears his throat. ‘Forever?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
Lowri’s heart misses a beat.
Forever.
For a moment, there is only the sound of Gracious as he yowls softly, curling up by the fireplace.
‘But can anyone else do what Eli can do? What his father did?’ Lowri asks desperately. ‘Create a portal, step through it?’
‘Only the brothers,’ Ethlet says quietly. ‘The Rexilium brothers. They are the ones who are responsible for the fog. They created it with the overuse of shadow magic and it grew and grew, consuming light magic. They started and then lost the war and made their escape into your world. Now we are left with the fog, and they have never returned.’
the guards bring me foodand fresh clothes, escort me to a bathroom and ignore every one of my questions. It’s only when the day wanes to evening that Kell knocks on my door, accompanied by a witch. A hunter. I jump to my feet and back away, but she doesn’t cross the threshold.
‘She’s assigned to us for the Trials,’ Kell says, jerking a thumb at the hunter. ‘To train us so we win. To ensure we survive and don’t do anything reckless.’
‘Sheis called Hira,’ the hunter says, scowling at us both as she folds her arms. I purse my lips, regarding her. She has hair so black it has a sheen of deepest navy, eyes like piercing pools and deep brown skin. ‘And though this is better than the assignment I was previously given, to fish out fire sprites in the mines of Valstra, it’s not better by much. If Brielle hadn’t defected, I wouldn’t be here at all. I’m not on their side, I’m not on yours and I’d appreciate it if you’d just let me carry out my assignment.’
I frown. ‘You know Brielle?’
Hira nods. ‘We were both at Coven Septern, before—’
‘Have you heard from her? Is she well?’ I blurt. ‘Could you get a message to her?’
‘And disobey my Malefant?’ Hira shakes her head. ‘I think not, creature. Brielle may have betrayed us, but I remain loyal to my coven. My task is to ensure you two don’t mess up. We will begin training tomorrow morning, and I will find out what I have to work with. Then, in the evening, it’s the grand ball for the competitors and the visiting courts, and you will both attend. Ensure they can all get a good look at you, keep to yourselves and return to your rooms without incident. Yes?’
Kell and I both stare at her stonily.
‘I take that as acquiescence. A guard will collect each of you after breakfast tomorrow, and we will begin.’
‘What kind of training?’ I ask, narrowing my eyes. The horror of the lightning I unleashed on that farm building is haunting me. If the ruling council want me to do that again, to be that kind of weapon … how will I get through this?
Hira smiles. ‘Apparently you both have some command of magic, enough that the ruling council believes you will be victorious. And I must ensure you can use whatever gifts are at your disposal, and that you avoid dying in the first Trial. I told my Malefant it was an impossible task, and yet here we are. Don’t ask me any questions like, but why Hira, but what do the ruling councilwant, Hira … because I don’t know and, frankly, I don’t care.’
‘Because you’re just carrying out your assignment,’ I say through gritted teeth, beginning to understand why Brielle and Lowri walked away from their coven. If all the witches and hunters are like this … well.
‘Exactly. Glad we understand each other.’ She nods to a guard behind her, who nudges Kell to move along. ‘Now, both of you, stay in your rooms and don’t cause any trouble. The faster we get through this, the faster I can return to my coven and leave this soulless palace.’
Hira’s training seems to consist of snarling at us in a disused hall as we work through a series of jabs and kicks, then she’s summoned elsewhere before we can move on to a demonstration of ourgifts, as she calls them.
A few hours later, as the sky turns to dusk, Kell and I are escorted to another part of the vast court, along silent corridors and wide staircases, to the only room that seems to hold any life.
The music and merriment spilling out are like the scrape of foul claws in my mind. I enter the grand ballroom in an outfit that was chosen for me: a fancy gown woven in gold and cream, symbolising Arnhem. It reminds me too much of the one Renshaw put me in on board her ship and anger coils within me. The first thing I do is scan the crowd for Agnes’s red hair, hoping against hope that she’s somehow in here too, that I can speak to her, make sure she’s all right … but after discarding every glint of red I find my heart deflates. She’s not at this party.
‘At least the guards aren’t going to tail us in here,’ Kell mutters, tugging at the hem of a tunic they’ve chosen for him, also woven in threads of gold and cream. ‘They’re barring every exit.’
I couldn’t escape now, even if I had the chance. Not without Agnes, and I’ve yet to think of a way to save us both. There’s still too little information. I have no knowledge of the court, its layout or where they’re holding her. For now, I have to learn more about the Trials, and what I need to do to survive. This ball, to welcome the competitors and members of their courts from across the continent, seems like a fine way to glean vital details.
