Chapter Thirty #2
“Everyone practices magic at Shadow’s Keep.
” It’s as close to the truth as I can get.
Everyone that actually belongs at Shadow’s Keep does practice magic.
I’m not about to admit that I’ve only just begun wielding mine.
Julian told her I lost my memories, so she no doubt suspects I don’t know how to use my magic…
and is trying to figure out how terrible a mistake they made bringing me here.
Well, she couldn’t have thought after running from her for nearly a decade that I’d show up like a good little soldier and defend House Harkyn with my life and my honor. And now these strange men from some far-off land are here? What exactly is everyone playing at?
My grandfather turns to our guests. “Embyr will make your long voyage worth it.” He hooks me in a cold look from across the table. “And there are many other fine women here of marrying age.”
Horror washes through me as the obvious answer falls right in my lap. They couldn’t possibly…
“She would make a fine fourth wife,” Kildari says, shooting me a wicked grin. “Beautiful and deadly. Just how I like them.”
“I don’t even have a third wife yet,” Quelan adds. “I may have to fight you for this one, brother.”
My grandmother laughs as I shoot Cillian a mortified look across the table.
“Like I said, plenty to go around,” my grandfather says with a chuckle.
“I am not marrying anyone,” I growl, my shock wearing off and fury pulsing through my veins. My gaze sweeps back and forth between my grandparents. “Is this why you brought me here? To sell me off to some cutthroats from across the sea?”
My grandmother straightens in her chair. “How dare you speak that way, you ungrateful child…”
I stand, spilling over my tea as I do. “I am not a child. And I do not follow orders from you.”
“Oh, this one has fire!” Kildari laughs.
Spinning, I stalk toward the front of the tent, but two of the guards block my way. Heat pulses behind my eyes, and it feels like my blood is literally boiling. I’m not sure what they see there, but their mouths fall open and they stagger out of the way, letting me pass.
I know I can’t go back to my tent because they’ll just send more guards after me.
Or worse, Kildari or Quelan will come for me themselves, seeing as how they find my disobedience enticing.
And I can’t go find Daemon because he can’t be seen with me.
This whole valley is filled with people who want me dead. Except…
I stride down the main path between the tents, gaze panning left and right until I see the banner for Shadow’s Keep, two swords crossing inside a crown.
It’s a black tent, large but not as big as some of the others.
No one is guarding the entrance. I stop at the flaps that lead inside, pausing awkwardly. It’s not as if one can knock on a tent.
I clear my throat. “Um, Professor Julian? Are you there?”
I hear a sound inside, something clinking, perhaps a wineglass or a potion bottle. A few moments later, one flap of the tent is opened, and Julian stands there, blinking into the sun like an owl.
“Embyr! Come inside, come inside.”
I duck in through the entrance, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting after standing in the bright morning sun outside.
It is a tent that looks precisely Julian, just as I would have imagined it, though it’s filled with so many things it seems he plans to be here for months, not weeks.
There are two wooden bookshelves erected along one side of the tent, and along the opposite side a huge map is hung from the ceiling, a map of Aureon and the lands beyond.
It’s covered in dozens of notations, scrawlings and scribblings in a delicate, spidery handwriting, and in places, lines of yarn connect different locations.
There’s also a large dining table, which at the moment is covered with more books, along with crystals and herbs and vials of liquid in an array of colors.
Some of the books open on the table are as large as a horse’s head, with worn golden pages and faded ink and cracked leather binding.
“How are you, my dear?” Julian asks. He pushes his glasses up on his nose, his hands shaking ever so slightly. He seems quite frazzled.
“Did I come at a bad time?”
“No, no, all is well. How about some tea?” His words attempt to assure me, but there’s a ring of falseness to them.
“Sure. Thank you.”
He gestures for me to take a seat in a leather-backed chair closer to the entrance, and he hurries off to the back of the tent to retrieve a tea kettle, herbs, and two mugs.
I am wondering how he’s going to heat it up, and if perhaps he forgot about that important step, but then he sets the kettle down on the table in front of the chairs and points his finger at it, and a moment later steam begins to rise.
I forget sometimes his mastery over magic of all kinds.
Julian hands me a steaming mug of tea, then sits down next to me in the second winged-back chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? I would have assumed you’d be preparing for your challenge with Toryn tomorrow night.”
It seems everyone has heard the news by this point. No doubt Toryn himself had spread it widely. I blush. “Hiding, to be honest.”
Julian’s eyes widen.
“My grandparents apparently want to marry me off to barbarians from across the sea… as if I’m their property!” Even the thought of it makes that same blaze of heat run through me again.
“Barbarians? From where?” Julian asks. “Oh, and that’s dreadful, of course,” he stammers.
“They wouldn’t say. But they looked different from anyone I’ve ever met in my travels.” I keep hearing Kildari’s words, seeing the way his eyes moved over me like I was already his. A shiver runs over me.
“Different? How so?” Julian leans forward in his chair, eyes bright.
“Very tall. Runic tattoos. Black hair. Wearing all leather.”
Julian’s gaze goes distant a moment and then he turns and walks to the massive map a dozen feet away. “That sounds like the islanders of Vinorjia. It’s an island nation to the south, formed of hundreds of small islands.”
“That’s… interesting,” I say. “I have no idea how my grandparents got to know them, or why they invited them here.”
“Interesting indeed…they do not typically come to Aureon, claiming to mistrust all mainlanders. That’s likely why you’ve never noticed men like them before.” Julian frowns, his eyes moving back and forth over his map.
“I hate to impose, but can I stay here a while? I need to be getting ready for my challenge, and I can’t do that if my grandparents are trying to show me off like a prize pony to their guests.”
“Of course…” He says it absentmindedly though, his gaze now back on the table with all the books.
“Are you researching anything interesting?”
He pulls his gaze back to mine. “Just looking into some of the family trees of Aureon.” His tone is off again, as if he’s distracted.
“I—I find it fascinating, all the different types of magic that tend to run within a lineage. Why it is that those within the same family often possess the same type of magic as their forebears… while others develop a completely different type of magic from the rest of their kin.”
“I have a feeling my magic isn’t anything like my parents’ magic,” I say, the thought coming out of my mouth as I’m thinking it, a forlorn feeling sweeping through me. “If they even had magic.”
Julian cocks his head to the side. “And what makes you think that?”
I take a sip of my tea, now that it’s finally cooled down. “I’m not sure… something in my gut. Surely there aren’t a bunch of humans running around who can wield fire.”
“There are plenty of human mages who wield fire,” Julian responds. “But I agree, there seems to be something different about your specific magic.” He looks at me in that way he’s prone to do, as if I am a fascinating puzzle box he’s dying to unlock.
“It would be nice if I could ask my family.” I chew on my lower lip for a moment. “But my grandparents seem to want nothing to do with me unless I’m a bargaining chip for whatever plans they have.”
There are footsteps right outside the tent, and my head whips around, worried they’d sent someone after me. But when a voice calls out, I let out a sigh of relief.
“Cillian, you scared me,” I say, opening the tent flap to let him inside.
“Greetings, Professor, pardon the intrusion,” my cousin says, bowing to Julian.
“No trouble at all,” Professor Julian says, only half his attention on the new guest, the other in the book he’s standing over, flipping pages.
“I knew you’d be here,” Cillian says to me.
“Because I have nowhere else safe to go,” I respond gloomily.
“Why don’t we take a walk?” He sees the look on my face and quickly adds, “Nowhere near our grandparents’ tent. I promise we won’t run into the delightfully couth and well-mannered brothers you met earlier.”
I roll my eyes at Cillian’s sarcasm. “Do you mind if I come back later?” I call to Julian.
“Of course not, dear,” he says, looking up for a half moment to give me a smile and then continuing whatever has him so distracted in his book.
Cillian and I step outside, only after I make Cillian check both ways first to make sure we’re clear.
Then we head through the sea of tents, not returning to the main path but weaving through toward the far end of the valley away from the ocean.
I hope Daemon isn’t panicked trying to find me, and wish I could somehow send him a message.
But there’s nothing I can do about it right now.
I just need to stay out of the path of…nearly everyone. Until night falls, at least.
When we’ve cleared the tents, I angle us closer to the peaks on one side so we’re not completely out in the open. Then I finally feel safe to strike up a conversation.
“I am not marrying either of those men. Or probably any man, ever, for that matter. I cannot believe our grandparents think they can sell me off.”