A Burning in the Bones (Waxways #3)

Chapter 41 Nevelyn Tin’vori

41 NEVELYN TIN’VORI

Gods, what a terrible name.

Meredream. She’d never heard of it. Judging by the looks around the room, neither had anyone else. Able Ockley took his seat while Avid Shiverian stood to address them. Nevelyn couldn’t help wondering where they all learned to look so comfortable speaking in front of big groups. Was there a class for pompous young rulers at Balmerick? Or were they just born looking slightly perturbed by the existence of other people in the universe?

“Meredream is our house’s great secret. The only people who were aware of its existence were my mother—Ethel Shiverian—and her sister, Seminar, as well as the builders who received the commission for the work. The contractual agreement was that those builders had to live out the rest of their lives in Meredream. In return, our house would monetarily support their families in perpetuity. We have honored those contracts. We still honor those contracts.

“Over the years, most of the original builders passed away. Right now, just two live there. The rest of the town is empty. Waiting for us. No one has visited except my mother and her sister. This was a secret that they kept even from me—their heir.”

Nevelyn wanted to laugh. Dead dragons and secret cities. At least the day did not lack in drama. Theo Brood raised his hand like a child in a classroom. It felt that way, she supposed. As if Avid Shiverian simply knew more about how the world worked than the rest of them.

“How could you build an entire town without anyone noticing? Looking at the map… this location is less than a day’s journey from the Brood estate. How could my father not have noticed?”

“He almost did,” Avid replied. “Several times. My mother and sister are very good at what they do. Or they were… before…”

It was the first time Nevelyn had witnessed raw emotion in the girl. Her face briefly contorted with pain, and then she smoothed out her features.

“All this to say: the city was never discovered. It waits for us. There is enough housing for nearly ten times the number of people we have here today. Plenty of room to keep growing. There are farms built inside the city’s outer gates for sustenance. The town is already stocked. Supplies. Food. My grandmother chose the location because it’s atop a magical vein that runs through that section of the mountains. We will have enough magic to last for generations. Archive rooms, too, to keep training the next generation. Meredream was meant to be a failsafe for our house. If true disaster ever struck Kathor—the Shiverians would fall back to Meredream and survive. Now, we extend that offer to all of you. Our house would not let magic die out. We must survive.”

Hope and sadness tangled in the air. This was a real plan. A proper solution that would see them all safe and sound. But there was also the looming truth: they would be exiles. Kathor would no longer be their home. Gemma Graylantian unexpectedly brought one hand slamming down onto the table. She was wearing so many rings that the impact echoed in a jarring way.

“To hell with that. I cannot believe my ears. House Shiverian—the greatest spellmakers in the known world—are giving in to the demands of the mob?! Your ancestors would be rolling in their graves if they heard this. Why should we retreat from the city we built? Kathor is ours. ”

There was a mixed response. Nevelyn saw a few fervent nods. Mostly from people who had direct ties to the great houses. People who still thought of themselves, even after all that had unraveled around the city, as rulers. But far more people around the room exchanged distasteful glances. At best, her words lacked tact. At worst, they represented something that was already dead.

Nevelyn was surprised to find herself firmly in the second group. Less than a month ago, her primary concern had been to restore House Tin’Vori. Rise from the proverbial ashes. Claim their place amongst the city’s elite. How could any of that matter now? She wanted peace. A safe place for Josey to grow and bloom. A normal life for Ava. A world where Dahvid didn’t need to keep summoning his sword and staring down the next opponent, and the next. This was their chance.

Even Avid Shiverian saw that the world had shifted. “It was ours,” she said. “Once. Not anymore. The viceroy’s message has changed everything. A seed of distrust has been planted in the minds of the people. We are no longer wanted. I think the current plan is sound. I have great hope that it will sway the populace—but look to the future, Gemma, and tell me what Kathor will look like twenty years from now.”

The older woman was shaking with rage, but she said nothing.

“I’m no prophet,” Avid admitted. “But I see two options for us. First, we rescue the city. When the fog of that manipulation spell finally lifts, we tell them the truth. We play the part of humble servants. There are hundreds of passive magic spells operating around the city. Magic that makes life easier for everyone. If we’re really clever, we could convince them to let us provide a valuable service to the city. Posture ourselves as civil servants. That role would earn us a few decades of peace. But even then, imagine how they will see us. We will be living reminders of what they will never taste again. Worse, they might actually believe the viceroy: we took magic from them .

“It won’t matter that it’s a lie. Not if enough of them believe it. Every time we perform a healing spell, the person we helped will know there’s another spell that could kill them. Every time we fix the foundations of a building, they’ll quietly wonder if we also have spells that could bring the walls of their neighborhood crumbling down on their heads. All it would take is one mistake. Just one wizard casting the wrong spell at the wrong time. One accident… and they’ll turn on us. In that future, we survive for a while. Eventually, they’ll decide the world is safer without us. We die—and magic dies with us.”

The entire room had fallen under the spell of her words. Nevelyn saw that even Gemma Graylantian had paled as she listened. The future she painted was a bleak one.

“The second option is that we rule them. I’m sure that’s what you have in mind, Gemma. We use Balmerick as a base of operations and we begin a war with the city below. It would require all of our resources. Looking around this room, I’d bet we have enough firepower to actually win—but only if everyone in this room is willing to slaughter and kill for it. Thousands of Kathorians would die. Including some of the people in this room. Our numbers would be reduced. Enough that magic would die out before the next generation. And if we did somehow survive—anyone who still possessed magic would be feared. Despised as tyrants. That’s what we’d have to be to keep our grip on the city, though. Tyrants who ruled with an iron fist. Until one day, someone would come along who was strong enough to kill magic for good.”

Avid looked around the room. Meeting each person’s eye.

“Or we go to Meredream. We make a new society there. We thrive in exile—until the city is ready for magic again. What’s the old saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? It would work. We would be safe. And then one day, our children’s children could return to the city we all love.”

Avid slid back into her seat. The girl’s chest was heaving. Gemma remained silent. The woman was looking down at her own hands—bejeweled and ringed—like someone who’d been cursed to watch all the gold they’d gathered over the centuries crumble to dust. Nevelyn almost felt sorry for her, but then she glanced over at Josey. Her ward looked terrified by the futures that had just been presented. She could not bear the idea of him being hunted. She could also not bear the idea of him becoming a hunter. Nevelyn cleared her throat.

“Will the city only be for wizards? Or will nonmagical kin be allowed to come?”

All eyes swung to her. Nevelyn fought the temptation to turn her heart necklace over and cast the spell so they’d all forget she’d just asked a question. Avid looked hopefully in her direction.

“Family would be welcome—regardless of magical status.”

Deep down, she knew it would be painful to leave their estate behind, especially after working so hard to take possession of it again. She also knew that Ava hated when Nevelyn made decisions on her behalf—but she truly believed this was what Ava would want. So long as they were all together, what did it really matter? They could make a new life in Meredream. Together.

Nevelyn nodded. “House Tin’Vori will come with you.”

If the safest place for their family was Meredream, then they would go to Meredream. Murmurs stirred around the room. People had been rising to leave, but now they paused, falling into whispered discussions. A group of students announced their intentions next. All of them requested permission to come and Avid nodded her thanks. The effect spread across the room like wildfire. A chorus of requests and agreements, requests and agreements. Until it seemed as if every remaining wizard had agreed that this was the answer. They would go to Meredream and make a new world.

Everyone but Gemma Graylantian.

She tapped her finger on the table, causing the overhead lights to dance across all that gold and silver. After a long moment, she rose. They all watched her straighten the gorgeous dress she was wearing. Her eyes glittered like sharpened knives.

“If they want me to leave, they’ll have to drag my corpse through the streets.”

And with that, she marched from the room.