Chapter 32
My answer came early the next morning, in the form of my cousin entering my guest room, a breakfast tray in her hands. The frown on her face, and the lack of books tucked under her arm gave me my answer before I could even ask.
“You’re not going to allow everyone to learn magic,” I said with a frown, skipping right to the answer I wanted as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes—I wasn’t going to bother with pleasantries anymore.
“I’m sorry, Runa, but the council has unfortunately voted against it.” My empathy gift revealed otherwise—my cousin wasn’t sorry at all.
I’d already dressed, preparing to head to the dining room for breakfast, but this saved me a step. I accepted the tray from my cousin’s hands, digging in.
“But, Runa, they would love for you to sit on the council, as the coven matron.” The smile on her lips was forced, and I knew they hadn’t wanted me to sit on the council, not really.
It was still so odd to hear my name in connection to a word that was typically reserved for women who had spent a long time in the coven, when I barely knew anything. I didn’t pause my eating. “Unfortunately, that will not be possible,” I replied in my most diplomatic voice.
“Just think about it, Runa,” Collum pleaded.
I swept the breakfast biscuits off the plate and into the bag I’d already packed.
I stood from my bed, waiting to speak my last piece until I was by the door.
“I’ve already thought about it, Collum. And I have come to the conclusion that we are no longer on the same side of this conflict.
Therefore, I will not be sitting on your council. ”
Collum’s mouth dropped open. “How can you say that—”
I cut her off. “I told you long ago, inaction is the same as saying you are permitting something—even though your mouth doesn’t move.
If I sat on your council, allowing you to repress knowledge belonging to the people knowingly, it is the same as if I announced it to a crowd.
” I swallowed, for as much as I practiced this speech, it was difficult to say it out loud to someone I’d always thought would be on my side.
“Thus, I will not sit on your council and allow you to convince people that I don’t believe access to magic should be universal and that those above them should hoard power. ”
“That’s not how you felt before,” she snapped, her hands vibrating with restrained anger.
“I’m allowed to change my mind.” I brushed a hand down the front of my clothing.
“You are too, Collum. We make decisions to the best of our ability with the information we have. When we gain more information, we are allowed to change our mind, allowed to amend our decision to something better . . . for everyone.”
Collum’s breaths were coming out as pants. “But, Runa—”
“That’s Ms. Wormald to you now, Collum, as we are no longer allies.”
I turned to take the last few steps over the doorframe, but Collum called out, “But . . . Runa, it—it sounds like . . . like you are—”
“Declaring war?” I asked over my shoulder, a smirk on my lips.
“It’s because I am. I am glad you are well, Collum.
I am happy you are trying to make Malheim a better place .
. . for some people. Would be better if it were for all people but alas .
. . I will take my leave now, but the next time you see me, it will not be as friends, but as two opposing forces standing on opposite sides of a line I refuse to cross. ”
My feet moved forward, as I activated the next part of my plan. It was a challenge, with Collum calling after me, begging me to wait.
But I would not.
I was done being told what to do. I was done being told what was right for some people.
The gods gave the Seid magic books to make magic accessible to everyone, not just the few.
And I knew that allowing those in charge to continue holding the key to magic would only continue the abuse I, myself, had been subject to over and over again.
Everyone deserved to have access to magic.
Though it meant that power may occasionally fall into the wrong hands, it also meant that everyone would have the opportunity to defend themselves, should trouble arise.
And it was time to give people the option that had been denied to them for too long.
Rounding the corner, I paused, pushing my back against the cold stone. I didn’t know what Collum would do—how she would try to stop me. But I knew I needed to be fast.
Closing my eyes, I tried to quiet my mind, like the times when I’d meditated in the past. I had a hunch, one that had started when I’d seen those books in Otho’s hands in Shianp.
It was the reason I’d forgone my potion the day before after the attack. And why I hadn’t taken any in Malheim.
I allowed myself to drift to the spot inside of me, where my magic resided in glowing threads. There was still a wall around the one which was filled with whispers, but I would dismantle that soon.
I turned away, staring instead into the darkness, searching.
There it was. A faint purple glow.
Inhaling deeply, I stepped toward it, my eyes still closed as my hand rested on the stone wall as a guide. It was a challenge to walk like this, around a keep, with my eyes closed and only magic guiding me, but I managed.
Servants passed me in the hall, but they said nothing, which told me how little they thought of me—if they even knew who I was. The glow grew brighter as I drew closer, the shapeless glow fading into a coil of purple thread.
I opened my eyes, finding myself in front of a closed door.
Without waiting, I pushed it open to find an unoccupied bedroom.
Remembering the direction of the coil, I walked to the bedside table, yanking open the drawer with ease.
There was a purple book there, one I didn’t recognize, and I shoved it in the bag before heading back to the door.
Walking a few steps away from the bedroom, I closed my eyes again, repeating the process. This time, the magic led me to a stack of three books, one of them I recognized from my days in Adis’ palace. I shoved them in the bag too, knowing my time was running out.
Collum definitely would have alerted the council to my changing sides by now, but I was relying on the fact that she wouldn’t know that I knew how to seek, and that she would trust me when I promised to leave peacefully.
Well, it wasn’t a lie, I was walking to the stable to collect my horse without hurting anyone, but I wasn’t exactly leaving empty-handed.
Entering the stable, I was met by Derek, and an already saddled Nala led by his hand. My gaze zeroed in on the military-issue saddle she wore.
“It will be safer,” he stated, his dark eyes searching mine.
I narrowed my gaze, tilting my head to the side.
Had he been coached to say that or . . .
“If you ever want to learn anything, come find me. Signa’s palace, on the outskirts of Ralheim.
” I hoped that was covert enough to keep me safe.
I hadn’t gotten to know Derek well during my time at Malheim, but something told me he was on my side.
Especially considering how highly Ena thought of him.
“I will. Safe travels.” He dipped his chin as I hoisted myself on Nala with ease.
Then I was out of the stable, pushing Nala into a trot as we exited the keep. I kept her pace steady as we passed through to town, only pushing her into a full gallop on the open plains.
We were almost back to Signa’s cottage (I still didn’t think of it as mine), when I realized that I would need to do the same thing I’d done in Malheim, in Ralheim.
At least there I knew I would have an ally.
Regardless, Nala was too tired to make the journey tonight, especially after I’d pushed her through the route that was usually broken into two days.
After I dismounted, I brushed her down, ensuring she had plenty of food and water to help her recover.
It was nearly dawn, and I paused outside of the house to admire how the garden looked in the first rays of sun.
I inhaled deeply, knowing that although so much had happened, somehow, I had ended up exactly where I meant to be.
Satisfied, I opened the door, dropping my bag the moment I spotted the male form lounging on the couch. My hand darted for my dagger, which was at my waist this time.
“You really should lock the door, you know,” Askel said with a grin, stretching and rising. “Anyone could just walk in.”
Recovering from my shock with a chuckle, I rolled my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart. “I thought someone would think twice before surprising the coven matron.”
“Unless, of course, they know all the magic said matron has and know it’s mostly harmless.” He stood then, crossing the room to pull me into a hug. I could feel his worry mingled with his relief as we embraced. “I was worried . . . when you left that cabin without a word.”
I scrunched my nose. “You’ve been here since yesterday?”
He nodded. “Otho said I wasn’t welcome back in Ralheim until I ensured you were okay.”
My mood deflated in an instant. “I see.” I moved to the kitchen, searching for the jar of seeds I’d prepared before I left. I was hungry but didn’t have the energy to cook, especially not for an unexpected house guest. “I thought he would be happier, knowing where I was.”
“He loves you, Runa, and he worries.” Askel amended.
I waved him off, locating the jar and reaching for it. “I’m tired of hearing about it.” I knew some of my anger at Askel was as a result of not eating, so I made quick work of the jar lid, tossing back a handful of seeds before passing it to Askel. He copied my motions.
“You and me both,” he said with a sigh.
“How’s Ena?” I asked suggestively, but Askel shook his head.
“I haven’t seen her since Shianp.”
That was news to me and I fought to swallow. “She didn’t come back with the group?”
“She didn’t come back from your meeting with the king,” he amended, but he must’ve noticed the questions in my gaze because he added, “I asked Otho and he said to leave it be—she was fine, and not to ask about her anymore.” I could feel his emotional turmoil at not knowing where she was, but I could also feel his resolve.
I frowned, not liking the sound of anything he’d just said.
It sounded like mistakes were being repeated.
But I knew Ena could take care of herself, and that if Otho said she was fine, it was the truth.
Or at least, that’s what I convinced myself as I poured more seeds into my palm and searched for a way to change the subject.
My eye caught on the bag I’d dropped on the floor as I chewed. Now that Askel was here, maybe . . .
I swallowed, reaching for a jar of dried apples. “Askel, can I ask you something?”
He shrugged, still chewing. “You kind of already did.”
That drew a laugh out of me as I pulled an apple ring from the jar. “Well, with the Seid magic, would you rather everyone have access, or no one?”
I’d assumed he’d answer quickly, but to my surprise, he seemed to contemplate it, pouring more seeds in his cupped palm. “That’s a hard one, Runa, but I would say since some people already have magic . . . I would have to go with all, since no one is no longer an option, as I told you before.”
A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned my weight against the wooden countertop. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” I didn’t need his reassurance, but it did give me a warm feeling inside—a confirmation of what I was about to do.
He nodded in understanding. “The way I see it, while I trust you to sever your connection with magic to ensure no one has it, I can’t trust everyone that has magic to do the same. Therefore, I default to the first option.”
“You’re right,” I agreed, my mind flashing to Collum, who I was certain would never give up the magic she already had. “Then, my next question is, are you willing to do whatever it takes to ensure everyone has access to magic?”
He frowned, and I could feel his worry at what I was going to ask him to do. “I guess.”
“Excellent.” I smiled. “You no longer work for Otho; you work for me.”
His gaze darted around the cabin, and I could tell he was searching for an excuse. “But—”
“You said you would do anything. The way I see it, demanding you to quit your job isn’t that big of an ask.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
He lifted his hands before dropping them again. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am,” I snapped before crossing the room to open my bag. “I’ve already got a plan, but I can’t do it alone.”
“Alright,” Askel said with a sigh, moving to the couch. “Tell me about it.”