My stomach churns. ‘Why would she do that?’
I brace for the answer.
Dinah meets my eyes at last. ‘Because some truths attract attention.’ She moves closer, her lips almost touching my earlobe as she whispers, ‘And some powers are not forgiven when noticed.’
Silence stretches between us.
The only powers in Wrohelm that are not forgiven …
‘My ice,’ I say slowly. ‘It didn’t come from the spirits of Follen Lake, did it?’
A cold nausea coils low in my stomach, as if my body has understood something my mind is still resisting.
Dinah does not answer immediately. When she does, she chooses her words with care. ‘What surfaced in you was nevergiven, Rose. It wasuncovered. And once such things wake, they do not respond well to being pushed back down.’
A prickle skates along my arms, as though my magic agrees with her assessment.
‘Then what am I meant to do?’ I ask in rising panic. If the ice powers cannot be put back in the box whence they came, then what options do I have?
In my mind’s eye, I see Jonas, bleeding from cuts caused by my shards of ice. I see him clutching his throat, choking.
‘Dinah, I nearly killed someone,’ I confess in a panic. ‘I can’t control it. I have to learn. You have to help me.’
Dinah’s expression tightens with regret. ‘The temple cannot teach you control of this.Icannot teach you control of this.’
My stomach drops, hope draining out of me. I was so sure Dinah would have the answers, but if she can’t help me, then what am I to do?
I cannot let these powers run rife, or my life will be forfeit. And not only mine.
‘Who?’ I ask desperately. ‘Who can helpme?’
She hesitates. ‘There are those who understand forces borne of cold,’ she says finally. ‘Not the lake’s spirits,’ she says pointedly, ‘but the people who wield such power.’
My pulse stutters. The Issen. I do not say their name aloud, but I mouth the word at her.
She nods once. ‘If anyone can help you learn restraint – control, rather than mere suppression – it will be them.’
‘I’d take suppression,’ I admit.
The priestess shakes her head. ‘I do not believe that is an option for you any longer,’ she says grimly. ‘If it is as strong as you say, then it will not be fettered now. You must learn to control it. They are the only ones who can show you how.’
Fear floods me. She’s serious. She truly believes that seeking out the Issen is my only chance of survival. My voice is a near sob when I speak. ‘Dinah, they will surely kill me before I can even ask for help.’
‘Perhaps,’ she says with brutal honesty I would prefer not to hear right now. ‘Or perhaps they will recognise something of their own within you.’
I let out a shaky breath. ‘Perhapsis not much comfort.’
‘No,’ she agrees. ‘But it is the truth. And that is what you are asking of me.’
I swallow hard. ‘Why tell me this now?’
Dinah’s gaze drops to my side – to the dagger.
‘This should always have been yours. Your inheritance. It was your mother’s once.’ She reaches out a hand and touches it carefully before instantly whipping her fingers back. A small smile of satisfaction appears on her lips. ‘No other may wield this blade now. That is good.’ A single inhale and exhale completes her pause before she continues. ‘This blade was not singular, but one of three. I believe you have seen one of the others. Mila now wields its power.’
I wonder if the omission of the High Priestess’s title speaks of familiarity … or disdain.
‘And the third?’ I question.
