Chapter 12
Larkspur
“Very good!” Aunt Asterie clapped her hands.
My determination to make progress had never been stronger than since my parents revealed my fate to me after my birthday festivities a week prior.
Shadows spilled from my hands and vined around books, pulling them from the dark shelves of the estate’s library. The array of tomes smelled of leather and dust. The domed ceiling above featured gold-foil flowers over a rich emerald paint.
We’d practiced spells, charms, and curses for countless hours, until my mind fatigued. I’d never admit it to Aunt Asterie, but summer lessons were actually enjoyable.
Aunt Cass came to the estate each day to practice our swordsmanship. Aunt Wyeth pulled me into the kitchen to practice our potions at least twice a week. I loved tinkering with the combinations of ingredients and watching their reactions.
The most powerful enchantresses in all the realms were my teachers. Now, I knew why they insisted on my focus…
Isolde’s book of prophecies claimed I would end Caym’s final reign. I’d read it cover to cover three times. Each time, my panic mounted.
Thousands of years ago, the Sources and Reverists had walked the lands and warred with one another until the demise of both—a manipulative end brought by Caym’s wicked games.
The Sources had embodied the elements and gifted their immortality to mortals. The Reverists were mortal and possessed powers of the mind—foreseeing the future, mind reading and compulsion.
Only Isolde and her eldest daughter, Isleen, held the power of compulsion and telepathy together. Mama and I were descended from her; we were the last of our kind.
The Death Origin’s imprisonment would end; he would find a way out. When he did, my family expected me to be ready.
“I’ve been practicing,” I answered as the Shadows bent to my whims, though it took all of my focus and I bit my lip raw. I haphazardly placed my selection of books down on the long desk.
When I was small, Papa used to sit with me by the fire and we’d make Shadow animals together on the wall. The rabbit always escaped the wolf, the mouse always evaded the Lynx.
With each passing year, Source power grew stronger within me and weaker within Papa. My parents had poured all their dreams into me. The realms’ last hope, they’d said.
And I hadn’t even had my first kiss.
“We are done for today,” Aunt Asterie concluded.
“The Shadows seem easier to control lately,” I said. Her lips turned up at the sides—as close to a smile as she ever offered.
Flopping onto a deep sofa, I opened a thick green leather-bound spell book. The spark for consuming more knowledge had been ignited, and I longed to learn one last charm today.
“It took me until I was a few years older than you before I learned anything of use that was possible with my Source power alone. Your progress is impressive.”
An image of a blonde woman behind a gilded desk flashed through my mind—a memory Aunt Asterie failed to conceal. The light-haired woman smiled, but it seemed pensive and calculating.
The enchantress who’d trained Aunt Asterie no longer lived. No one spoke of her, but her name had been Firose.
I’d grown better at breaking past the wards in my aunts’ minds. Their thoughts of the wicked enchantress were mixed. Aunt Asterie held no respect for Firose’s actions, but she also didn’t hold the same anger toward her that my parents and Uncle Fen did.
“Maybe Firose was simply not as great of a teacher as you are.”
My aunt stilled for a moment before she crossed the room to sit in the chair across from me.
She didn’t seem angry, and for once, emotion cracked her usually stoic facade.
“I try not to be as hard on you as she was on me,” she admitted.
“You carry a heavy burden. I will not lie to you about what is ahead. My job is to prepare you with every ounce of knowledge I can. To put every offensive advantage at your fingertips.” Aunt Asterie snapped to solidify her point, and a blue shining orb appeared in her palm.
I nodded, looking over my book, meeting her gaze. “I know that.”
“Firose prepared me for death. I prepare you for life,” she said as she squeezed her palm shut and extinguished the starlight.
A lump grew in my throat. I’d always wanted my most sullen aunt to speak to me this way—less stern, more honest and open. But it felt like crossing the threshold out of childhood.
“Are you ever afraid that maybe I’ll fail?”
She smiled—truly smiled. “No, never.”
My shoulders slackened; if she was confident, then that fared well for me. Aunt Asterie never sugarcoated the truth.
The open text in my lap shimmered in the sunlight cast from the large picture window. I held the page but flipped back to the cover. Binding Curses and Entrapments.
I wondered…
“King Mattock—is he bound to Caym? Like a Jinn to a bottle in the legends, or like Uncle Fenris was bound to the woods?”
My aunt’s posture stiffened. A flash of her former mentor crossed her mind—as though the question felt familiar.
She tapped her chin, trying to appear unaffected. Her thoughts warred with how much to tell me.
“We are unsure,” she said. “Prior to the Sethe curse, Emmerick was one of Caym’s envoys.
The curse trapped Caym inside King Mattock, leaving Death powerless since King Mattock cannot wake to do his bidding.
I suppose that is much like a binding curse—he sleeps because the person he was last bound to sleeps. ”
“Do you think Caym could exist without a body? If he were to be unbound from King Mattock? Hypothetically.”
Aunt El’s face would light up to see the sleeping King detached from Caym and ready to be woken.
“What makes you ask such a question?” Her tone turned skeptical.
I swallowed hard. Her pointed stare unnerved me. “If Caym is bound to King Mattock, couldn’t you unbind him?”
My aunt’s eyes shot wide open. “In theory, it may be possible. But that is a monumental risk. There is no evidence that the Sethe curse would keep hold of Caym should he not be bound to Emmerick’s mind, and he could look to take a new unknown envoy if not contained.”
“What if he were to be unbound and then bound to something else? Not a person.” My knee bounced at the idea.
My aunt stood. “That would be unwise,” she said sternly. “I despise the alternative of allowing Emmerick to remain cursed, but we cannot take foolhardy actions.”
“But what if—”
“Enough, Lark,” she snapped. “I need you to promise me you understand—that you won’t explore this further.”
My cheeks burned. “I understand,” I said. But I didn’t promise. So much for not being treated as a child; my idea could work.
It seemed so simple.
“I’m sorry—it was only a thought,” I sighed out.
Glancing down at the books in my lap, I said, “I’m going to take these back to my room to study.”
Aunt Asterie gave me a nod with a still-furrowed brow. “You did well today. Let Elsie know that I’ve returned to Luz.” She looked out the window as I collected my books.
“Yes, Aunty. I will see you tomorrow.”
While her attention fixated on the blooms in the orchard, I slipped the book of binding curses into my stack of texts before leaving the library.