Twelve - Isabel
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I picked upmy fork again, but I was no longer hungry. “She died when I was eight. It’s been just me, Sofia, and our father since then.”
Soon it would be just me and Father. If he didn’t get himself thrown in jail before Sofia married, which probably wouldn’t be long now; she spent more time with Leo than us these days. I put up with my father to spare Sofia from dealing with him on her own. Even if I walked away, she would never give up on him. She was too much like our mother.
It was true that I couldn’t remember seeing Mama happy, but I knew she had been at one point. Everyone who had known my mother, Penelope, when she was younger always said Sofia reminded them of her. The Penelope from before her optimism had resulted in constant disappointments. The woman from a time when she still had dreams.
She had loved Sofia and me. I knew that much. Even when she barely had the energy to smile at us, I had known she loved us. But she had also loved Edwin. That love had destroyed her in the end. The worst of it was, if it hadn’t been for Sofia and me, she might not have lost her sunny disposition. Her love for her husband might not have broken her.
But we had come along, two little girls with limited control of our truth-magics, and destroyed Penelope Cardh’s illusions. The lies she had told herself that Edwin would change for her—that he had changed for her—fell apart under the onslaught of our powers. Between Sofia accidentally making him speak the truth and my inability to hide my discomfort when his lies became a clamor, Mama lost the comfort of self-deception.
Despite knowing that his lies were falling apart, Father made no effort to change. He didn’t know how to change. Even a deathbed promise to Penelope hadn’t been enough to make him give up his criminal ways.
Pushing the last few bites of chicken and beans around on my plate, I cleared my throat. “Enough about me.” I didn’t want to answer any more questions. I recognized the hypocrisy, but my mother was the only subject that dried up my words. I needed a change of topic, and I had the perfect one in mind. “Are there other things you can do with node power that your father couldn’t?”
Felix cocked his head to the side, the sudden shift catching him off guard. “I once used the node to truth-tell my father, but he couldn’t use it to force me to speak the truth.”
Unexpected questions always got the best answers. Felix hadn’t wanted to discuss the possibility that he might be a mage before, but here he was, confirming my hunch. “That makes sense if you are a truth-teller yourself. Your father would only have the power of the node to draw on. You have the node plus your innate magic. That would make you more powerful than him and immune to his truth-telling.”
Felix rose up on all four legs, the bit of white fur at his throat catching my attention. Wide and flat under his chin, it tapered to a point, reminding me of a tucked in jabot. I’d have to ask him what he was wearing at the time of the transformation. That could be my surprise question some other day.
His ears flattened against his head. “I would know if I were a truth-teller.” He looked at me and sank back on his haunches. “Wouldn’t I?”
I shrugged. “You live in a castle under a truth-telling enchantment, with access to a node tied to that power. I can see how it would be easy to overlook the power.”
“Before I inherited the title, I spent months at a time in Haiwella. The node’s power doesn’t reach all the way to the capital city. And I’ve never used truth-telling away from the node’s sphere of influence.”
“Because you assumed you didn’t have the ability. Most children discover their magic by accident, slowly learning to control it. You could have used it as a child without realizing it was your own power and not the node’s you were pulling on. You would have learned how to control your power and never tried to use it when you weren’t at Rose Castle. If you had a passive power, there would have been no mistaking it, but I can see how you might have missed your talent for truth-telling under the circumstances.”
“How can I tell for sure?”
“I’d suggest trying to truth-tell without using the node, but given that the entire castle is under a truth-telling enchantment, you wouldn’t be able to tell if you had done anything unless you actually forced me to speak. And there is no guarantee your innate magic is strong enough for that.”
“I’m glad to hear that isn’t your suggestion, as I have no idea how to use magic without pulling on the node. The node is tied to me. Using it is automatic.”
I rolled my eyes. “It is still a separate source of power. Even if it is easy for you to pull on it, there is a difference between your power and the node’s. Feeling the difference should be instinctive, but you’ve lived your whole life confusing your own power with the node’s, so I’m not sure how to teach you the difference.”
The thought of being a mage had left Felix uncertain, but at this he seemed to pull himself together. His voice dipped back into that lazy drawl he used so often. “Your advice is so helpful, Isa.”
“That’s me. Everyone always calls me Isa the—” My words cut off, the truth-telling enchantment not letting me finish the sentence.
Felix chuckled. “If they don’t call you Isa the Helpful, what do they call you?”
“Stubborn.” I stood up. “Come on, we are going to visit the node so you can learn to differentiate its power from your own.”
Felix followed me, keeping pace on top of the table as I made my way to the door. “Didn’t you just say you don’t know how to teach me the difference?”
“We won’t figure anything out doing nothing.”
Felix leapt off the table and slipped out of the room in front of me. He led the way to the front of the castle. We walked past the blue salon and library, through the foyer, and entered the great hall.
The power from dozens of ley lines all flowing toward the node pressed on me. “Can you feel that?”
Before coming to Rose Castle, I had never felt magic without concentrating. But there was so much here that it was impossible to miss. I couldn’t actually hear the power without focusing, but the deluge still whispered over my skin, making the hairs on my arms rise.
“Feel what?”
“The magic.”
Felix stopped short, causing me to almost step on him. He looked back over his shoulder, his golden-green eyes glowing in the shadowy room. “There is magic covering every inch of the hillside. We didn’t have to come into the great hall to see it.”
“You wanted proof that your abilities are those of a mage, not just a node-tie holder. Seeing the wisps of power shaped by the node because of the Truth spells isn’t enough. This is the perfect place to spot the difference between shaped power and raw magic. The ley lines feeding the node should be beyond your ability to sense if your magic is all due to your blood-tie.”
Felix’s eyes took in the room, a slow survey of the entire space. “I see the normal wisps I call on to use the Truths, nothing else. Mystery solved. I’m not a mage.”
He pivoted toward the foyer, and I stepped into his path. “Why are you so set against being a mage?”
“Because I’m not a mage,” he snapped.
The sudden heat in his voice made me pause. Whatever the real reason for his stubbornness, it mattered more to him than he was willing to admit. I moved toward the node, the flickering flames giving me something to watch besides the agitated duke. “It is more than feeling silly that you never noticed, I take it?”
“Silly?” He stepped between me and the marble plinth, rising up on his hind legs and pressing his front paws against my legs. “You think I feel silly? Do you understand what is at risk, Isa?”
“Lady Cecily bypassed the blood-lock on your node. I understand the implications. But whether or not you are a mage has no bearing on that.”
“I had hoped that the issue was that Cecily found a way to get past the lock. That would be bad enough, but not as bad as the lock disappearing completely. But you used the node without any trouble. So, I thought maybe the lock had weakened. I still had a tie to the node, after all, it couldn’t be gone. But if I’m a mage, then I’m not relying on the blood-tie. I’m using the power on my own.”
I exhaled, Felix’s fears settling into my gut. “Oh.”
“So, no. I don’t feel silly.” He pushed off my legs, falling back on all fours. “I’d say my emotions are somewhere on the spectrum from despair to resignation at this point.”
“Maybe you aren’t a mage, after all?”
He snorted. “You already made a rather compelling case supporting the opposite conclusion. Do you really think there is a chance I’m not a mage?”
“A chance, sure.”
“But it isn’t likely.”
I bit my lip. “We should make certain, anyway. I could be completely wrong. I’m not a magical theorist.”
Felix’s tail drooped. “What am I supposed to see if I’m a mage?”
“I’m not certain. Like I said, I sense magic as sounds. I can feel the ley lines in this room even when I don’t concentrate. The amount of raw magic is extreme, but it is a subtle sensation. Not even something I really hear. More of an instinctive awareness.” I closed my eyes and focused on the power around me.
The node magic hummed through my blood, drowning out everything else. I walked backward, my eyes still closed, increasing the distance between myself and that knot of power. Finally, a different whisper caught my attention. Raw magic, not weak, but in its unshaped state it was like hearing a whistle pitched so low, it was almost beyond my range. I moved closer to the source, until I stood directly in the nearest ley line.
“What do you see directly around me?” I asked Felix, opening my eyes. “It will probably be misty or hazy, something you would squint at and still barely make out.”
Felix stared. He blinked and came closer. Then he stared some more. His gaze went unfocused, and he shook his head. “It is like rain drops in the distance, except they are falling sideways.”
“Toward the node?”
He nodded.
“You are seeing the ley line that feeds your node.”
“Not my node. Not anymore.”