I stared down at the names on the scroll in front of me: Twenty-seven. Almost thirty more of us gone—dead and abducted. Twelve had been found dead at the site, while the other fifteen were unknown—either captured or killed. Without bodies, we had no way of knowing.
I rubbed at my eyes, the weariness of the past few weeks weighing on me heavier with this grim news. Standing up, I pushed the chair back, and my mother's eyes moved to meet mine. She looked as tired as I felt, but there was a determination in her gaze that I admired.
"Your father and I can take care of this. Go and get some rest, Lyra. I'll send word if any more news reaches us."
I nodded mutely, not trusting myself to speak. It had been weeks since I had gotten a good night's sleep, and I knew tonight would be no better. Those names, their faces... they'd haunt me along with my past.
The halls of the Villa were quiet as I trudged down them. I couldn't think of a way out of this. Every time we tried to make a move for our people, the humans always seemed to know, cutting us off at every turn.
I reached my bed chamber and didn't even bother undressing as I slid under the blankets, curling in on myself, trying to will myself into a peaceful sleep.
~~~
There were screams—those Gods-awful screams. I threw open the door to the inn's room, the wood banging loudly against the already damaged wall of the chamber my parents and I had been given for the night.
Smoke filled my lungs, forcing me to cough as Nael Liesand, my father's Right-Hand man, stormed out of his own room. His eyes locked onto mine, flashing with relief at seeing me unharmed, then narrowing with resolve and an all-consuming rage to eradicate any threat to me. I felt the wind pelt my face as he pulled in fresh night air from a window down the hall, attempting to protect us from the smoke of the fire raging below.
I ran to him, and his arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me in close just as his wife, Ada, erupted from their quarters, scrolls and books filling her arms as she unceremoniously shoved what she could into her knapsack.
"We must go," Nael demanded, and Ada fell into step behind us as he ushered me forward. I had to run to keep up with his longer strides. The wind whipped around us like a tornado in the smoky hallway. We reached the top of the stairs and rushed down without pausing, Nael gripping my arm firmly. My feet barely grazed the steps as we ran.
If we could find my parents and escape the burning building, we'd be able to make a plan. Though, I was fairly certain Nael had orders he would follow whether or not we found my parents. They had made it clear that his main objective tonight was to ensure my safety above all else. My eyes darted around, searching for my mother and father among the tables of the dining area, but all I saw was more smoke and—
Were those bodies? My eyes widened in shock at the sight of four men and a barmaid sprawled out on the floor, their insides spilling across the blood-soaked wood. Nael jerked on my shoulders, pulling me to his other side to shield me from the gruesome scene. Not that it did much to protect me from the death and carnage surrounding us. Another corpse lay strung across the bar, a knife jutting out from the man's neck. His dead eyes stared blankly, seemingly peering right into my soul. I let out a strangled sound, realizing it was the kind cook who had made sure I had gotten an extra sweet pastry after dinner just a couple of hours prior.
I didn't even feel my feet moving as I stared into his unseeing eyes, the life snuffed out of him while fire roared around us, devouring the walls, the bar... him.
A crash echoed, and the face that held my attention vanished as the main door of the inn slammed shut behind us. Freed from the gaze that had held me paralyzed, I whirled around, my eyes scanning everywhere. Where were Mother and Father? Why hadn't they come for me? I had just began to fear the worst when—
"Nael!"
A woman's voice pierced through the screams of pain and panic. Not just any woman's voice; it was my mother’s. I flung myself forward, Nael's hands grasping for me, but I was too quick. I ran toward the direction of her voice.
"Mother!" I yelled back, not slowing.
"Lyra?! Stay with Nael and Ada! I'm coming!" Mother yelled in response. She sounded strained, distracted. Was she in trouble? Did she need help?
"Lyra, stop!" Nael shouted from behind. I glanced back to see if he was following me just as I collided with something hard and muscular. I would have fallen if strong arms hadn't immediately wrapped around me, spinning me around to face the two mages sworn to protect me as they approached quickly. Something sharp pressed into my neck, and Nael and Ada slowed, holding their hands up in submission to the man who had me, stopping about ten yards away.
"What have we got here?" The man's gravelly voice echoed from behind as he lifted me off the ground.
"Please, we haven't done anything," Ada began pleading, but he cut her off.
"Shut up, ye freak bitch. Yer kind sap the life from our lands, leavin’ us starvin' and poor. I ain't got two coppers to rub together, and ye have the nerve to claim ye ain't done nothin'? If ye was decent folks, you'd'a killed yerselves already and ridded the lands of your foulness. But ye’re not, are ye? That's why we gotta do it fer ourselves. And I'll be startin' by killin' yer child, just like ye killed mine," he growled, pressing the knife harder against my neck.
I winced, but felt a calm entering my body as I desperately reached for my magic—the scary, all-consuming magic that controlled me more than I controlled it.
"It's ‘rid,’" I heard myself say, as if from a distance. The man growled in response, and the dagger pressed even harder, warm liquid trickled down my neck.
“I still think I need to have a little talk with Gil though,” Regnald said, his eyes searching the room as he shovelled a mouthful of stew in his mouth. As if summoned, Gil walked through the dining hall doors, his gaze immediately landing on me. But as soon as he noticed who my companions were, his face drained of color, he spun around and walked right back out the doors. “Speak of the devil…” My father hummed, making my mother’s head shoot up just in time to catch Gil’s quick retreat. I sighed, burying my face in my hands. No matter how badly I wished to postpone our departure, time wasn’t going to allow for that. Suddenly, I felt my mother's delicate touch on my shoulder, “I'm sorry, Lyra. I know in another time—if things were different—Gil could've been your Consort.” My head shot up in mortification, she must have read it as surprise because she continued on as if she needed to explain the dynamics to me. “Once he becomes your official Right Hand, you'll be together all
The smell of food was intoxicating as we walked through the doors into the dining hall. Mages from all over the island came here to eat, so it was rarely a quiet occasion. My stomach twisted painfully as I inhaled the aroma of fresh bread and seasoned meats. This was the only good outcome of yesterday’s tragedy; those who managed to return safely hadn’t abandoned the spoils of their hunting ventures. My people would eat well for a few weeks before another hunting party would need to be dispatched. The mages who offered up their services to cook and prepare meals always laid out the choices buffet-style on a long table. Everyone understood the importance of being mindful of their portions. We had little food to share between a large group of mages. I helped myself to a slice of venison, some fresh vegetables from the royal gardens, and one of Godfrey’s fresh rolls. He had absolutely perfected them. They had a beautifully crisp exterior, and once you took a bite, you would discover a
Sylvren's voice cut through the air like ice, her tone sharp as if crackles of electricity surrounded the Queen Mage. I watched Gil very slowly wiping his fingers on his pants, his face as red as my hair, which I was hurriedly trying to fix. As if regaining control of my wind-blown hair could erase what my mother had just witnessed. "A little inappropriate, don't you think, now that you're engaged?" Sylvren's words lingered in the air, tinged with disapproval. "Technically," I breathed out, more of a pant than a response, attempting to mask my embarrassment with false bravado. "I'm not engaged yet." I added, my hand grasping for the contract. When my fingers only felt the hard stone of the bench, I looked over and saw the contract lazily making its way back towards me on a soft breeze—our passion tornado had rehomed it several feet away. Snatching it from the air, I whispered, "Thank you," to Gil under my breath. I extended the paperwork to my mother, who ripped it from my grasp. "
Gil covered my hand with his. "That's the future. Don't worry about it right now. Live in the present. Right here. With me. In the garden you love so much," he said softly, and I looked up, meeting his golden-brown eyes—the ones that looked so much like Ignatius's. "No, don't go there. Don't dwell in that dark place in your mind. Stay here, with me. In this garden, with this beautiful Morning Glory vine that Enid absolutely hates because it's a waste of space and kills everything it touches," he crooned. He always seemed to know what I needed, even before I did. My thoughts, which had been a jumbled mess just moments ago, began to dissipate, pushed back enough to give me time to breathe and relax. He understood my struggle to prioritize my thoughts sometimes and always did what he could to give me a break from the constant noise of ideas and emotions in my head. "Don't think about earlier. Don't think about tomorrow. Just think about right now. Just this," he whispered right before
"Malorie," I called softly once I was outside the Council Chamber doors, knowing the Potioneer had stayed nearby in case she was needed. The other mage rushed out from around the corner and gave me a quick bow. “Princess,” she acknowledged. "Malorie, could you please show the esteemed Captain to the guest chambers where he can stay for the night? And if he would like to get out and stretch his legs at all throughout the day, make sure someone is there to escort him," I said, fully aware that Tross was listening through the open door, though I didn't turn to look at him. "It will be done, Princess," the Potioneer replied with another bow. I sighed and shook my head slightly. "Seriously, stop with the bowing, Mal," I whispered, and she nodded in compliance. I turned to walk away but paused and looked back over my shoulder at her. "If you run into my mother, and she seems in a foul mood, tell her I'll be in the gardens, would you?" With that, I headed out the side door that led into
"No..." He said, pausing to give me another look up and down, as if verifying something in his head. "In the event that she is still too young to marry and fulfill wifely responsibilities, she'd be promised to the Prince until she is old enough to carry out those duties. Obviously, we'd still take her with us and let her finish her childhood in the Kingdom, as per the letter we sent. But the sooner we can present this unity to our people, the better." He offered, looking like he'd rather be discussing anything but my daughter’s "wifely responsibilities" with me. Frustration bubbled up within me; apparently, there had been more in that letter than my mother let on. "Hmmm," I said, leaning back. "So, how old is she? If you don't mind my saying, Queen Mage, you look awfully young to have an heir old enough to be married off," he noted. "The Princess is plenty old enough to be married. She goes into this willingly. Fiery, a little temperamental maybe, but willingly nonetheless." I repli