Chapter 51. Grayson #2
Sage shakes her head. “Anything can be dangerous. Picking up an object, for instance, if a child uses that skill to wield a knife. We guide and we instruct and we’ve never had a problem.”
“But then why don’t we do that?” I ask, this time looking at Grayson.
“I learned complicated spells when I was small, too,” he admits.
“What?” I reply like the word itself is pointed.
Grayson meets my gaze. “That’s not the worst of it,” he says.
“Which is what my brother suspected that led him to go looking for the Lawless and meet Sage. It’s what changed his opinion about our uncle forever.
” He pauses. “Eloise, magical ability solidifies in the teen years. We reach our full potential then, just like height.”
His words wash over me, the meaning of them threatening to drown me.
Grayson leans his elbows on his knees. “Kids who start learning early have an advantage. It’s the reason I’m proficient in all four magics and you have to work so hard at your one.
We’re told magical ability is genetic and that’s why Laborers remain Laborers and Mage families produce children with more talent, but it’s all lies.
There’s nothing separating Laborers from Mages except early training. ”
My chest suddenly constricts. On a gut level, I know he’s telling the truth.
I always felt the draw to magic from an early age that I couldn’t seem to satiate.
I’ve worked so incredibly hard, fought for every inch of my magical ability, and it all could have been different.
If I’d been given instruction as a kid, if I’d grown up in a house where people knew spells other than cleaning and woodworking, I might have been Gifted.
I stand up before I can think not to, pushing my flyaways back from my face.
Grayson collects my empty bowl, cleans all of our plates with a spell, and returns them to the stack by the fire.
“There’s something else you both need to see,” Sage says.
She leads the way to another tent, one that looks like hers.
“My mother’s out, placing spells for a hideout in case we have to run,” she says, and I realize that’s whose tent we must be in. “And while I know she’ll be pissed I’m showing you this without her, I don’t think we can afford to wait. Plus”—she turns to me—“you’re Charles’s granddaughter.”
“And who am I?” Grayson says, and Sage raises an eyebrow.
“You’re a pain in my ass,” she says, stopping in front of a simple wooden box and casting a complicated unlocking spell.
“I think you mispronounced ruggedly handsome,” he says.
Sage gives him a warning look as the lid pops open, and she lifts out a thin piece of leather with calligraphy on it.
I gasp. “That can’t be … Is that the rest of Brachan’s poem? How did you know?”
Sage’s eyes flick to Grayson. “Grayson told me you needed it.”
“A message you conveniently ignored,” Grayson says.
I pull the folded-up piece of paper I wrote the poem on from my pocket and Sage and I combine the two halves.
The Key
The Key, they say, is sentient wood,
For centuries, the hidden arch has stood,
It only appears when it so desires.
Through connection and the heart’s true fires.
Part I: The Heart of Courage
This wielder’s might resides within,
A noble spirit, pure and keen.
Their heart, the wellspring of their power,
In love and truth, they build their tower.
Part II—The Master of Magic
Elemental forces at their command,
Illusions woven by their hand.
Botany’s secrets they also know,
Alchemy’s wonders they do sew.
Balance
Through balance of these souls combined,
The key to magic they shall find.
For strength of heart must tame the force,
That magic brings with fierce discourse.
When these two join, the Key is found,
Uniting power on common ground.
“The Master of Magic,” I say. “Is someone who’s good at all four magics?” I glance at Grayson.
“It’s more than being good at them,” Sage says. “At least it was for me and Liam. I had to summon all four magics at the same time for my part in calling the Key.”
Grayson shakes his head. “And you didn’t think to mention this when we talked?”
“I did think to say it, I just chose not to,” Sage says, matching him beat for beat.
“You didn’t want to let me anywhere near Eloise.
And I knew I needed to talk to her myself, because you were gonna cock it up.
” She gestures at him like case in point.
“I certainly couldn’t risk the Chancellor getting that Key. ”
Grayson gives her a hard look and she gives it right back.
If I didn’t know better, I’d guess they were siblings.
“I never saw the first half of this poem,” Sage says, breaking the staring contest. “The Heart of Courage describes Liam perfectly.”
“What did Liam do for his part in calling the Key?” I ask quickly.
Sage sighs and I think she even blushes a little. “He used to hold my hand while he called his magic. He said there was a feeling he’d get when we were together. Something … special. He couldn’t really put it into words.”
I know exactly what she’s talking about. It’s the pull when Grayson first kissed me, or the rush I felt when Grayson led me away from the edge of that tower. Something ephemeral and magnetic, like eye contact or a gut instinct.
Grayson frowns. “Then how did Liam call it when he wasn’t with you? How did he call the Key the night he died?”
“We had only just learned how to call the Key,” she says, and I swear I can hear her regret.
“But I’m guessing he called it that night because you’re a Master of Magic, too—the other half of the equation.
And, well”—she pauses—“he loved you more than anyone in the world. You two had an unbreakable connection. His heart was always open with you.”
The reality of what she’s saying hits Grayson with enough force to make him step backward.
“I believe it was an accident,” Sage says softly. “Just two brothers practicing magic, not knowing what they could do.”
His face falls and his breath hitches.
“I need a minute,” Grayson says in a tight voice and pushes through the tent door.