“What are you doing here?” she asks Raef, as if she only just noticed his presence.
“Exploring,” he answers with an impish grin.
She stares at him for a moment, and I see the distrust swimming in her eyes. “…Okay.” She snaps her head and focuses her gaze back on me. “I was looking for you because I wanted to see if you would accompany me to the shops tomorrow. I need a few new dresses. And I’m out of soaps.”
“No you’re not.”
“Okay, I’m not. But I’m out of the good ones.”
“Okay, fine. I will go with you.”
“Can I come?” Raef asks rather boldly. We’re supposed to be enemies, yet here he is, so comfortable at the table with us like we’re old friends, and now he wants to go shopping with us. Meela whips her head his direction, doing a dreadful job of hiding her surprise and disapproval.
“Yes,” I say.
And now her head whips to me. “What?”
“Why not? We’re supposed to be exercising diplomacy, getting to know our neighbors from the south. Why not show him around?”
“Excellent,” he says.
“Don’t get any ideas about either one of us,” Meela tells him. “We’re not interested.”
“Neither am I,” he shoots back.
She squints her eyes at him, less hostile this time, like he’s a puzzle she can’t figure out.
“Okay, well… tomorrow after the breakfast bell. Don’t be late.” She rises to leave, and at that moment Yara returns looking slightly calmer than before. Meela gives her one eyebrow raising glance before leaving without a word, which Yara ignores, gesturing for Raef to follow.
He stands and nods at me before vanishing, and I’m left to the powerful silence of the library once again.
Chapter 8
I know the items that were used to cast the curse. And I know where one of them has to be. I think. I just don’t yet know how to actually break it. I have an inkling that I need to find and reunite those same items, but I have yet to find anything written that confirms that. It’s just a guess.
When I was fourteen years of age, I stumbled upon an old journal in the stacks. It was dusty, the pages were browning, but for some reason, it called to me. So I grabbed it, and I began to read. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I had stumbled upon something arcane.
When the curse was first cast, scholars used to study it endlessly. They feared what it would do to the land, to the people, to all life. But eventually, when the elves realized it favored them greatly over everyone else, they stopped trying to make sense of it. Stopped trying to stop it. And that’s when we started to get arrogant and comfortable. Now, no documents are supposed to exist regarding the curse. All research was destroyed or lost to time. It’s not a set law, but an unspoken one. One has never been seen.
The curse was created specifically to work in the elves’ favor so they could rule over the kingdom forever. No one would ever be strong enough to challenge them again.
What I still need to do is find all of the items and hope that reuniting them with a blazing fire will clear our skies for the first time in a thousand years. Easy.
The text said that the items, along with Ethmarel, the witch who cast the curse, disappeared. I don’t believe they were destroyed in Torrynth on that forsaken day, though. I think the witch fled, taking the items with her and hiding them across the world.
But again, this is all careful speculation and six years of contemplating and nearly spiraling many times. I could be completely wrong.
I really hope I’m not.
After skimming several more ancient texts—hours after the dinner bell rang through the halls—I decide to call it a night.
I place a few old books in my brown satchel, then lock up the library behind me. Sadia had an extra key made just for me years ago.
Just as I’m turning the corner of the first long hall, I hear a scream. And then a maid with hair almost as white as frost runs past me, crying and squeezing her arms around herself.
I halt, looking back at her, then back at the direction she came from. A grunting sound echoes from the room she ran out of.
My mind swims with confusion. I have no choice but to follow the noise.
