Chapter 11 #2
Archer’s voice redirected my attention to over my shoulder. He strolled into the arena, Venay close by his side, her mossy-velvet robe drifting along the freshly waxed floor.
“That’s the smallest amount of starlight I’ve summoned yet.” I got off the ground and back to my feet. I would have called it progress, had I actually intended to summon the power in the first place.
“What are you doing here?” my father approached me.
“Practicing.”
Venay batted her silver eyelashes, her attention grazing over my inanimate adversary. “Practicing what?”
Pushing the bottom of my boot against the base, I retrieved my dagger from the mannequin with a sharp yank. “For when I kill Beaumont.”
“Ah,” Archer sighed, “that’s a discussion for another evening, I think.”
“Yeah,” I scoffed, securing my blade in its sheath. “You and everyone else certainly seem to think so.”
Archer approached me, his eyes softening and his expression sinking into mine. “Beaumont is using Sebastian to get to you. He knows you’ll be desperate to save him, and attempting to do so would be walking right into his plan.”
“So what? We're just going to leave him there?” I shot back in disbelief.
“Of course not. We just need to execute this right.”
“I know how to do this right,” I fumed, locking my narrowed slits of eyes onto him. “I go back, I get Seb out, then I blow the whole fucking place up with starlight.”
“And take yourself and innocent lives down with it in the process?” Archer added the painful reminder of my lack of control.
With a grind of my teeth and a tilt of my head, I swerved around him, making for the exit.
“Wait,” Archer called after me. “Venay is ready to heal your arm. That’s why we're here.”
I paused in my tracks. Perfect. In a day or so I’d be completely healed and ready to make the journey back to Draemor. Surely I could talk the others into going by then.
While Archer returned to his office, I followed Venay out of the arena and into the infirmary ward, where she had me lie back on a bed to make quick work of my arm.
She poked and prodded at my flesh, drawing a wince of pain from me.
“It’s started to heal already, but not enough to where I have to rebreak it though. You got lucky,” she determined.
I laughed in utter disbelief. “Well, that's a first. I’ve never been lucky in my entire life.”
“Surely that can’t be true,” she disputed.
“Oh, it’s true alright. It seems that whatever I want to happen, the opposite happens instead.”
She retrieved a glass vial from the cabinet above, twisting the cap off and pipetting a few droplets onto my skin. “Such as?”
“For starters, I absolutely did not want to be gifted. So guess what happened? I got gifted by the rarest goddess of them all. I didn’t want to be a soldier, but have found myself in the midst of battle.
I wanted to be able to trust my former boyfriend, but instead he hid very important information from me.
” I cringed as she rubbed the liquid into my flesh.
“And that’s just the tip of the very large, very deep iceberg. ”
She chuckled subtly as she caressed my broken bone. “Archer told me a bit about your argument with Sebastian. Over a journal, nonetheless?”
“Yeah. Apparently his mother was a seer? I thought it was a bunch of crap when he first told me, but then I read the damned thing. And guess what? Turns out there might be another one.”
My mouth snapped shut, unsure why I found myself disclosing all of this information to her. Clearly I needed someone to vent to, but she wasn’t that person.
Venay returned the vial to its shelf and replaced it with a creamy substance, repeating the same patterns of motion on my skin. “Well, Maeve, I have a feeling your luck will begin to turn around.”
“Why do you say that?”
Her chalky lips curved upwards. “Remember how I told you that I am an enchanter?”
I tried to voice my answer, but instead nodded, biting into my lip to hold back a scream as she angled my arm in an unnatural manner.
“I knew Cicily Hawthorne. For years before she passed, in fact.”
Wincing, I pushed up on my good elbow with my forehead cinched. “You did?”
Venay pressed me back down with her palm. “I worked very closely with her for years. We were good friends growing up. She was one of the most talented seers I had ever met.”
“Small world.”
“In fact, I can tell you for a fact that there is another journal of her work.”
“Really?” My eyes widened only to squeeze shut as she maneuvered my bone back into the correct position. “How do you know?” I gritted out.
She reached around to the back of my arm, coating the underside in an additional thick layer of paste.
“Because I enchanted the book for her. I protected it from all harm. It can’t be destroyed, and I also charmed it so the words could only be read by Cicily’s immediate bloodline. Herself, Aldous, and Sebastian.”
“You warded her journals? Are you sure? I was able to read the one Sebastian has with no trouble at all.”
“You were able to read it because he gave it to you. If you had found it on your own, it would have been of no use.” She finished my arm off with another bandage, wrapping it tightly around the soreness.
“This should be back to normal in a few days. But no more practice until it is completely healed.”
“Thanks.” I tested the limb, using it to help me sit upright. A slight ache lingered, but nothing like it had been.
Venay tucked the ointments and herbs back into their respective homes.
I swung my legs to the side of the bed, dangling them over the edge. “Do you know where the other journal could be?”
Venay’s silver hair swayed as she shook her head and peered over her bony shoulder at me. “No. But I do know that what is written inside is vital information.”
“Such as?”
“I do not know too many of the details, nor are the details I know mine to share.”
Respectable. But annoying.
Jumping down, I steadied myself on my feet.
“Do you think there is anything in it about Beaumont? Or a way to help Sebastian?” I wondered, too—seeing as Cicily seemed to enjoy writing about me—if there would be a clearer answer on what Blythe meant when she instructed me to correct the world’s chaos, or information about what the markings meant.
“Maybe, I am not sure. She wrote the first journal before she had even met Aldous, and the second one she wrote before Sebastian was even born.”
“She could see things that far in advance?”
Venay turned towards me, pressing the back of her head against the cabinet. “Oh yes. She predicted her own death years before it happened. Not too many details regarding it, but she knew her demise was coming.”
“If I were able to find the second journal, would you be able to undo the enchantment since you were the one to put it in place?” Her fulfillment of the request was improbable, but I asked anyway.
If there was writing in there that could help Seb and solve our Beaumont problem, I would search the entire continent for it.
Venay appeared apprehensive as she gnawed at what was visible of her slim, bottom lip.
Her hesitation suggested that her answer was as I suspected—no. But she surprised me for the second time tonight.
“I think if it is possible that the answer to saving her son is in there, Cicily would approve of me using such means.”
My smile couldn't be disguised. “So…is that a yes?”
She nodded near imperceptibly. “If you find the journal before you save Sebastian, I will undo the enchantment in the hopes that it has information that can help him.”