Chapter 5 #2
Understanding washed over her. She’d heard about Augurs.
They performed divine magic rituals to gain the ability to know a person, place, or thing for what it was.
They could often identify magical items or even scry upon a person or a place.
Some called them fortune tellers, as they were usually skilled in reading cards or omens.
The Crystalline Academy called them ‘lesser mages’ and refused to allow them to study at the prestigious institution.
Alethea had heard stories of Augurs in large cities selling ingredients to access rituals—spells anyone could use, regardless of their magical ability.
Most importantly, they weren’t cursed for their connection to the Weave like Oracles.
Her mother had never allowed an Augur to come to court after the king’s death.
“I’m Alethea,” she confessed, her grip on the plates tightening.
“Yes, yes, I know. When Nakir came to me for a reading last week, I had no idea he would take my suggestion to seize his destiny so literally. Well, you’re here now.”
Alethea opened her mouth to ask what exactly the woman meant but was silenced with a single warning glance.
“You should know better than to ask questions when you aren’t prepared to hear the truth.”
She shut her mouth. The Augur hobbled closer.
“Now. Kidnapping is bad business. Nakir knows that. I don’t know your history or what you’ve been taught about your own abilities, but I know someone such as yourself should always have options.
Take this.” Bernadea shoved a glass vial into her already full hands.
“It’s a Sending Ritual. Break the glass and say the name of who you want to send your message to. Keep it brief.”
Alethea balanced her plates to study the small bottle full of herbs and...
was that an animal tooth? She glanced back up at Bernadea, struggling to understand why she’d offer her such a gift.
A Sending Ritual could cost as much as thirty gold pieces in Hyelea—an entire month’s wages for a skilled craftsman.
“Isn’t this...” She struggled for the words.
“Treasonous?” Bernadea asked, almost playfully. “If Nakir is truly a man of honor and you’re not a helpless hostage, he shouldn’t be concerned.” She raised a brow. “I trust you’ll do the right thing.”
Alethea gawked at the vial, brows knitting. When she looked up, Bernadea was already hobbling away.
“Wait! Where do I take these?” she called after her, holding the dishes up.
The Augur gestured vaguely in the opposite direction from where she was walking. “Walk that way for ten paces and you’ll find the nearest mess on your right!”
Alethea juggled the plates and the cup in one arm so she could pocket the Sending Ritual and pushed her unruly hair behind her ear before following Bernadea’s instructions.
She understood why Augurs and Oracles were often confused.
Their powers seemed closely aligned on the surface.
Her understanding was the nature of the connection to the Weave: Augurs underwent rituals to understand the nature of the universe; Oracles were directly connected to the Weave, for better or worse, and such a powerful blessing always came with a powerful curse.
For Alethea, it was her inability to lie in any capacity—something her mother hated.
Alethea was cursed to tell the truth, even when it was inconvenient or troublesome, or even dangerous.
She followed Bernadea’s guidance to the nearest mess area, where she noticed the familiar faces of Dawes, Emi, and Balthasar gathered at a large wooden table.
The clearing bustled with the activity of soldiers milling about cooking breakfast, washing their laundry, and making various equipment repairs.
One soldier worked at mending a wagon wheel, while another scrambled eggs in a massive frying pan over an open flame.
Behind him was a large, barred cart filled with hay and a few clucking chickens picking through the straw.
Alethea found the washing station and quickly rinsed the dishes she’d made from her meal, the back of her neck flushing as she felt eyes on her.
She kept her head down as she washed them in buckets of soapy water—she had never cleaned her own dishes at the palace, and there was something quietly wonderful about the smallness of it, her hands in the warm water, doing something so ordinary and so entirely her own.
She tucked her hair back with an elbow for the third time as it threatened to trail into the suds, not wishing to interrupt or cause a stir while she set the dishes on a large drying rack.
Still, she could sense the way everyone was watching her, painfully aware of their suspicion in the way the whispers rose whenever she turned her back.
Once her task was complete, she was confronted with her lack of a plan. Nakir had encouraged her to wander camp and speak to the company before making a decision, but the prospect of interrupting others in their conversation to ask probing questions left her with a stomach full of rocks.
Just as she resolved to turn around and leave, a massive presence came into view, standing directly in front of her and blocking the way forward.
“Balthasar,” she said, squinting into the morning sun to look up high enough to see his face.
“Your Highness,” he greeted with an inclination of his head. “Why don’t you join us?”
Alethea searched for malice in his tone and found none. She glanced over at their table. Dawes was scratching away at some papers with intense focus, while Emi was sipping tea and staring absently into the distance.
She followed the massive man, surprised by the unsettling silence with which he moved despite his size. Alethea sat down next to him, trying not to feel like a mouse seated next to a bull. Bal offered her a half-smile
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he told her, as if reading her thoughts. “Care for some tea?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Balthasar busied himself with the task of boiling the water and steeping the leaves while she sat there, hands folded in her lap. Dawes finished his work with a flourish.
“Finally.” He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, quickly stuffing the papers into a large envelope and tucking them into a leather satchel at his side.
He seemed to notice Alethea for the first time and greeted her with a curt nod.
“Welcome. I’m surprised Nakir hasn’t taken you back to the capital yet. ” His tone held a trace of annoyance.
Alethea cleared her throat, picking at her nails under the table. “Well, that was the plan.” She wasn’t sure what else to say, but Emi turned her attention from whatever had been occupying her thoughts.
“Let me guess. He’s charmed you into staying?”
Emi offered her an understanding smile, but it seemed too knowing for Alethea’s comfort. She wanted to protest, but her curse would not allow her to defend herself with a lie.
“Terrible idea, if you ask me,” Kerrigan Arranil interrupted with her sudden approach, dropping a mug of ale and a bowl of porridge on the table as she took a seat next to Emi and wrapped an arm around her neck in greeting.
Alethea noticed she was covered in soot and sweat, though that didn’t seem to bother Emi at all.
The bond between the four was as clear as the beautiful morning sky.
Alethea cleared her throat, leaning forward and crossing her arms on the table. “How did you... How did you all come to be here?”
Kerrigan snorted, rolling her eyes as she dove into her breakfast, talking even as she chewed.
“My father was close to the former king and queen, Evanthia and Lazaros Hasan.” The fire mage said their names with purpose and pride.
“After the coup, they spent half their time in Rai’Sharr, and the other half with us in Sardes.
We were thick as thieves growing up. My father always had great plans for Nakir.
He wanted to see the Hasan family restored to the throne of Lenorea more than anything. ”
Alethea wondered what it was like for her to speak so freely of a father so recently killed. The thought of her own loss rose unbidden, sharp and unwelcome. She may understand that kind of grief, but who was she to offer Kerrigan any comfort at all?
Emi sipped from her tea with both hands, her smile polite.
She seemed muted this morning, dark circles under her eyes as if she’d been up all night.
“I’m from Sardes as well. My parents both worked at the keep, and the Great Lord Arranil treated us like family.
Ker and Nakir were around my age, so we spent some time together when we were younger.
Goran recruited me into the rebellion when I returned home from the Academy. ”
“You attended the Crystalline Academy?” Alethea asked carefully. She knew many mages who’d graduated from the Academy went on to do incredible things, while others were left traumatized by the institution’s brutal methods.
The tone of the conversation seemed to shift, and Alethea feared she’d made an error.
Emi swallowed, something in her expression telling Alethea she was far, far removed. “I did.” A beat passed as she stared at her cup of tea. “My sister Elena and I were ten when we discovered we had magic. We were both granted scholarships to the Academy.”
Balthasar stiffened next to her, a movement so small Alethea wondered if she’d imagined it.
“I graduated when I was twenty-one.”
Alethea knew mages could spend several decades studying at the prestigious, rigorous school.
Emi’s talents must be considerable for her to have finished so soon.
Her own parents had expressly forbidden Alethea from attending.
Besides, they’d reasoned, the Crown Prince Aureo Macierre hadn’t attended the Academy, so why should they send their royal daughter away?
“And your sister?” Alethea asked, though a sinking feeling in her gut suggested she shouldn’t.
“She died when we were sixteen.”