Chapter 45
Durvla
By daylight, the whole household gathers in the small kitchen.
I sit with my hands enveloping a mug of hot tea, Kilkenny across the table from me, and Alys and Haruka on either side.
Chiyoko leans back against the counter, her hands busy with a small metal figurine and a paintbrush.
Osheen stands a short distance from her, his focus drifting to the work in her hands every now and then.
It’s bizarre being among so many with varying degrees of sign knowledge, but heartwarming as well.
Haruka and Chiyoko are fairly decent, though they don’t sign consistently.
Kilkenny has become increasingly fluent and makes an effort to always sign for my understanding.
Alys has mentioned having plenty of practice with patients in the safety of their homes.
And there’s Osheen who knows nearly as much as I do.
Haruka waves her hand to get my attention, and I draw my focus to her. “So, what exactly brings you all here?” she asks, signing as she glances around the table. “Or rather, how did the three of you end up in the brig?”
“Garrick was apprehended from her home on suspicion of theft,” Kilkenny answers. “She’d made a dress—”
He stops speaking abruptly and his attention shifts to Chiyoko. “Could you let her speak for herself?” Chiyoko asks irritably.
I’m mildly tickled. “No, it’s fine,” I tell her, but Kilkenny remains speechless.
“Well, alright … It was Quarterly Raid night, and the Forayers found a dress I’d been working on.
” A dress I’ll never see again. Sadness tugs at me, but I push it away.
“They assumed it was stolen, but somehow Princess Carys got her hands on it and recruited me from the brig to be her dressmaker. I made her Feast dress.”
Chiyoko’s jaw drops. “You made her Feast dress?”
I smile and nod.
“You, a Grounder, made a dress for one of the most important events of Mainland. And the princess’s dress, nonetheless! Bloody impressive!”
My smile widens, a tiny bud of pride loosening the tightness in my chest. “Thank you.”
She nods and turns her attention back to her work, dipping the small paintbrush into a little container on the counter and making precise strokes on her metal statuette.
“Alright, so what about Osheen?” asks Haruka.
We bring her up to speed on the events that led up to both our arrests, including Alys’s—for which she was given no reason other than treason, no elaboration. Haruka turns to me, curious. “So Tiernan tells me you’re a Dreamwalker.”
I glance at Kilkenny. “So he says, but I don’t know how it works.”
“You can enter the dreams of others,” says Haruka. “See what they see, feel what they feel. For someone who’s not been able to practice and hone their powers, it’s natural to not be able to control it just yet.”
Carys and Callum pop into my mind, and I immediately force the imagery away and focus on what Haruka is saying.
“A practiced Dreamwalker can also interact with the person dreaming, and sometimes, influence their dreams. It’s called dreamweaving. There are also certain Mages able to distort another person’s dreamscape or even what they see while they’re awake.”
Gods … that’s terrifying. And so wrong.
“Have you had any strange experiences with dreams lately? When you weren’t wearing the dampener?” Haruka asks.
Clearly, Kilkenny or Alys already caught her up on the bizarre magic things.
Again, I push away the vulgar Callum-Carys dream and the menacing Kilkenny dream. I glance at him, and he averts his gaze. My heart sinks.
Haruka is still waiting for a response, so I clear my throat. “Apologies, yes … Well, I often can hear in my dreams, which is already strange. But when I dreamt about Queen Morwenna, the Good, she said something directly to me.”
“What did she say?” Alys asks.
“I’m not sure. Something in a different language. Somewhat familiar, like I’ve heard it before, but I didn’t understand it.”
The three around the table exchange expressions of an unspoken understanding between them. I shift uneasily in my seat. Osheen appears as confused as I feel, while Chiyoko sets her paintbrush and statuette down before leaning in attentively.
I wipe my clammy hands on my trousers before asking, “Should I be concerned?” Disquiet prickles my skin.
Haruka smiles a tad hesitantly. “No. It has just been ages since any of us met a Dreamwalker.”
A tiny huff of nervous laughter slips past my lips. “Until the night of the Feast, I thought magic was just folklore. Everyone in my village believes that magic can only exist through objects. I thought Mages were purged from Erleya centuries ago.”
“That’s what most believe,” says Haruka. “And, on the surface, it does appear that way. But look around.” She smiles and sweeps her hand in a circle.
“I thought powers were inherited. Neither of my parents had powers, as far as I know.”
Chiyoko steps closer, leaning her forearms against the back of the chair where her mother sits.
“Sometimes it skips a generation … or a person,” she says.
“Like me. Both of our parents are Mages of different powers and Tiernan is an Amalgam; he got powers from each of our parents. It’s like he took both powers for himself and left me Ordinary.
Selfish bastard since birth, obviously.” She smirks bitterly.
Pain flashes across Kilkenny’s face for a heartbeat, but he presses his lips together and doesn’t face his sister.
“Wait, powers from each parent?” I regard Kilkenny as if I’m seeing him for the first time. I can still remember the sound of his voice in my head.
“It’s rare,” he says with a pained smile.
“My da is a Mimic, so he can wield the power of another Wielder in the vicinity—like flamewielding and galemaking—but not mind magics like sorcery, skinchanging or … well, dreamwalking.” He shrugs.
“Healing, I can to some degree. I haven’t had a lot of chances to practice and test the extent of my powers, but I can heal decently, thanks to Alys. ”
She smiles warmly at him.
“And from Mam’s blood, I’m a Mind Whisperer.”
I gnaw on my lip. “What about Dark Mages? Are they myth or also real?”
Haruka, Kilkenny, and Alys say three different things, and I rub my temples, overwhelmed. They all look at each other, then Alys says, “They are real, but magic isn’t black and white. I suppose the most famous Dark Mages in Erleyan history were the Basduunai.”
That word sounds familiar. Chiyoko returns to her previous spot and picks up her work again, even as she seems to be listening to her mother’s words.
“Basduunai were Mages of ancient and dark magic,” Haruka says.
“The name is literally translated from the old language as ‘death bringer.’ In the past, before magic was endangered, Basduunai were feared and usually executed if found. The Basduunai who chose to stay in hiding and suppress their dark abilities often went mad because of it. So that particular set of magical abilities has been extinct for at least a thousand years. Probably for the best, because the most well-known Basduun became corrupted by her own powers and sought illicit magic—opening portals and dabbling in the things of worlds beyond ours. She nearly destroyed our realm as we know it before she was banished.”
My head buzzes with theories. “She sounds like the Enchantress Queen Enidwen from my fairytale book.” The statement slips out.
Alys and Haruka nod. “The very one,” says Haruka.
I don’t remember the terms Basduun or Basduunai mentioned at any point in the book of fairytales. But who could forget Enidwen? The enchantress was mad enough to release a prince of the Underworld.
Haruka tells us that Enidwen was a Grounder and the catalyst for the Purge and continued banishments.
That the royals used Enidwen’s actions as an excuse to oppress Grounders, to instill the fear of magic in all generations.
Even at the expense of targeting Undesirables—we’re just scapegoats in the grand scheme of things.
“They think they can keep us down. If only they knew just how organized the rebellion is.” She grins.
The tale of the Enchantress Queen is real. Gods above and below … To have lived in a time when such dark magic existed sounds horrifying. No wonder the crown goes to such extremes to keep magic away. Have they any idea that it still exists?
Haruka drums her slender fingers on the table. “One more question about your dreamwalking: aside from the queen addressing you, what else happened?”
The details are beginning to grow fuzzy by now, but I pull what I can remember to the forefront of my mind. “The queen was younger in the beginning of the dream, and she was with a young Carys. She told Carys that she’d burn the castle down.”
Haruka’s eyes widen, and Alys says, “Carys is a Flamewielder.”
My jaw practically hits the table, as does Haruka’s. I glance at Osheen whose face has gone as white as a wraith.
“She wasn’t aware,” Alys continues. “But she should be by now. I left her a note.”
“A note?” Haruka blinks rapidly at Alys. “You left her a note?! Elviera!”
Her shoulders hunch. “I know.”
“When did you discover that she had powers?” Haruka asks. “How has it been kept a secret?”
I would like to know the same.
“Morwenna told me about a year ago. It’s complicated.”
Complicated … I press my hand over my mouth to keep nervous laughter from escaping. The heir to the throne has magical wielding abilities. And terrifying ones at that.
“When Carys was a child, she lost control of her powers, and the results were catastrophic.
So, Morwenna manipulated her memories and runed an amulet to make a dampener.
I tried to convince Morwenna to talk to Carys about it several times, but she insisted it was important that Carys figure it out on her own, and that if it was forced upon her unnaturally, it would cause her to lose control again.
“Carys can be unpredictable, impulsive, but she’s learning to deal with it. I’ve tried to teach her grounding and give her some tips on meditation to help her calm down in times of turmoil, and she has done well, but I’m afraid the pressure of taking the throne is causing a flare-up.”
Poor Carys …
Alys lowers her head a moment, rubbing the spot above her brows before glancing up again with a sigh.
“Iywan is up to something. Morwenna has been ailing for some time, but most recently, when I tried to feel for what ails her, it was … tainted. Whatever Iywan and the new healer’s apprentice are doing involves something that feels like dark healing magic.
Unhealing. They’re keeping her in a sort of limbo; keeping her alive, albeit asleep.
For what purpose, I’m unsure. But I believe that if Carys’s power manifests, they’ll let the queen perish, but they’ll also keep Carys’s powers hidden from everyone else. ”
“What makes you say that?” Kilkenny asks.
Alys shrugs. “Iywan once cared very much for the queen and, by extension, for Carys. But he’s since begun caring more about impressions—about the royal titles, rather than the people who hold them.
He wants Erleya to be seen as perfect. The last thing he would want is for word to get out that the heir apparent is a Wielder.
Especially a Flamewielder. It would shatter the facade of the Purge and all that the kingdom has continued to do to ensure that magic does not become a reality again. ”
My mind buzzes with more and more questions, all itching to spill free from my lips. I take a shaky sip of my tea and then set my cup down again. No one speaks for quite some time, everyone deep in thought.
Then, thankfully, Haruka speaks up. “Durvla needs to be trained. Her powers would be a great asset to the rebellion.”
My back goes rigid. That’s a change in subject. Me, an asset to the rebellion? Before Paramount, I had never even heard of the rebellion.
“Tiernan, would you be able to train her to weaponize her abilities?”
“It’s up to Durvla,” says Kilkenny.
Osheen tenses; it isn’t feasible with his whole running away fantasy.
Then everyone’s attention is on me. I swallow hard. “I—”
“You don’t have to decide now,” Kilkenny says.
“The rebellion is complex. It’s not what people expect it to be.
Rather than rising up against the crown directly, the rebellion aims to make the kingdom as safe for everyone as possible.
Alys has been a covert rebel for years, my parents as well—my mother provides weapons, not just to the Royal Brigade, but to the Verge fighters and rebels outside of the Verge as well.
My father travels, assisting with rescues, setting up contact points and safe houses throughout Erleya.
I’ve never been to the Verge, but Alys has. ”
Alys smiles.
“I’ve also never actively been part of the rebellion myself, and I was raised by rebels.
” Kilkenny turns to his mother. “We can’t expect Durvla to make such a huge decision on a whim.
She could also live peacefully in the Verge.
After all, the Verge offers sanctuary to those that seek it. ” He glances at Alys. “Right?”
I lean in expectant, and Alys nods.
Releasing a breath, I sit back in my seat, but I find myself unable to remain still.
I have no desire to fight in a rebellion I barely know a thing about, but being able to remain in the Verge, living a quiet, boring life with Taig?
That sounds … unbelievable. I sip my tea wordlessly to keep from saying any of that aloud.
Haruka heaves a sigh. “Fair enough.” She’s silent for a while, then she says, “You all should stay for the festival today. You can leave again under the cover of dark while the festivities are still ongoing.”
Behind her, Osheen shifts on his feet, his lips pursed.
Each stop may mean that there’s a stronger chance of the Forayers catching up to us, so I understand his anxiety.
I turn my gaze back to Haruka, my brows furrowed.
It has been a month since the beginning of spring, so there shouldn’t be one of the big festivals.
“It’s the festival of Damarlach, our patron goddess,” Haruka says with a smile.
The goddess of war and blacksmithing. That makes sense for Dubh Carrig.
“It’s lots of fun,” says Chiyoko. “There are fighting and blacksmithing competitions, art contests, and a lot of people dress up as warriors. One big pissing contest for who has the best metalworking skills, honestly, but it’s my favorite.
” She’s animated as she speaks, face lighting up.
“Basically, you have no choice but to say yes to the invitation,” she adds.
I glance at Alys and Kilkenny. Alys smiles and shrugs while Kilkenny huffs a sigh and scrubs his hand down his face. “I guess we’re going to the festival,” he says.