Maray considered running to her parents to verify, but she also didn’t want to offend Corey. So she decided Corey behaved enough like Corey to actually be Corey. She closed the closet behind her and stepped into the corridor.
It was still lit with a dim light, the origin of which she couldn’t tell.
“We are going to a part of the gardens you haven’t seen before.” Corey was waiting at a turn at the top of a staircase.
“Where are we, exactly?”
After a short trip through dim light, Corey led Maray down a set of stairs.
“Walls,” Corey answered curtly, sounding as if she was focused on something other than Maray’s curiosity.
“How much further?”
“Have you always been this impatient?” Corey glanced at Maray through a bush of black curls as they turned a corner. “And keep your voice down,” she whispered. “You never know who’s on the other side of the tapestry.”
Maray swallowed a smart reply about ‘the walls have ears’ having a suddenly completely different meaning.
Did that mean people could overhear the conversations in her bedroom? If someone knew about the secret passageway… Was it even secret?
“And before you ask, it’s just a couple of people, including Jem,” Corey informed her as if she had read Maray’s thoughts. “And the other end of the passage is guarded.” She chuckled. “Heavily guarded.”
Maray felt like it might be better if she didn’t know details, but she was too curious. “Who guards the other end?”
“Surprise.” Corey sped up a little as the corridor straightened.
They had moved down enough to not be on the level where Maray’s bedroom was, but not enough to be on the ground floor, when Corey took a sudden turn.
“Before you ask,” Corey repeated, “We are in the wall of the archway around the yard. Just below the roof.”
As Corey was speaking, she sped up a little until they got to a tiny window at what must have been half-way to the other end. She pointed into the pale ray of light that announced the rising November sun.
Wordlessly, Maray peered through the tiny square and wondered what people saw when they looked up at the wall from the yard.
From her position there, she could see the main entrance to the palace. Two guards in gold and red were situated on each side, holding spear-like weapons that Maray hoped she’d never need to see up close. The palace windows were closed, curtains drawn in most of them and hardly a light visible behind them. On the other side lay the servant quarters. Maray recognized the emerald doors. This was where Jemin and Heck lived.
“Don’t worry,” Corey commented. “You’ll see him soon.”
“I’m not worried,” said Maray with a tone that sounded little to none-convincing.
Corey tugged on her sleeve, indicating it was time to continue, and with a glance on the rising sun behind the pale-yellow buildings, she followed the warlock girl.
Their journey continued past closed wooden doors at which Corey named, “Servant quarters. Weapons room,” and down a set of rugged stairs where Maray slithered step after step until they arrived in an earthy passageway that reminded her of the hidden quarters where Langley had been living. Only the path led them to a narrow door.
Corey stopped and turned, a cautioning look on her face. “Stand back,” she warned and reached for the iron ring that served as a doorknob.
A screeching noise tore the torch-light that came in through the opening door, making Maray cover her ears in reflex.
“What is that?” she asked and watched Corey lift her hand at something behind the door.
At her gesture, the sound ceased and was replaced with a clicking noise that reminded Maray of hooves.
“You can come out now.” Corey waved her over and kicked the door back, freeing Maray’s sight to fall on a creature that looked like a small version of a horse but had a rodent tail and thick, curly fur, like a French donkey. It peered up at Maray with hungry, black eyes.
“What is this?” Maray repeated and didn’t intend to take a step until she was sure the creature wouldn’t rip her throat out the second she did.
“A Gurnyak,” Corey informed her, unimpressed by the eager glare of the creature.
“Is it dangerous?” Maray was still debating whether the little thing was creepy or cute as it blinked at her.
“It’s one of the best guards you could imagine.” Corey took a step further into the room behind the Gurnyak, and it followed her. “This particular one is watching the entrance to the passageway. Aren’t you…?” she cooed at the Gurnyak, which turned its eyes on her instead of observing Maray.
Hesitantly, she tiptoed into the room and stood a step behind Corey.
“Gurnyaks are basically like dragons,” Corey explained, “They guard their treasure. And in this little guy’s case, the treasure is the palace.”
“Does it bite?” Maray asked and felt awkward as the Gurnyak fixated on her gaze with its black eyes, an intelligence gleaming in them that had her expecting it was going to speak.
It didn’t. Instead, it trotted toward her and rubbed its furry nose against her leg like a kitten and made that screeching sound again. Maray stood petrified, ready to feel a set of teeth sink into her calves, until Corey laughed.
“You have a friend.” She gestured at the Gurnyak.
Maray didn’t relax until the creature shuffled away from her and curled up on a colorful rug in a corner of the room.
“You are part of the treasure, by the way.” Corey followed the Gurnyak and knelt down beside it. “You have Cornay blood. It sees you as part of the palace.” She reached out a hand and petted its head.
Maray followed her lead and crouched on the floor beside the creature, hand shaking as she reached out to touch it.
“Gurnyaks are intelligent creatures. They know what—or who—they are guarding. And this one is trained to protect the palace and the royal family.”
Maray’s hand made contact with the fur. It was scrubby to the touch, a little bit like stroking a shoe brush.
“So, what does it do if it feels threatened?”
The Gurnyak eyed her innocently as she ran her fingers through the carpet of curls on its neck—it was the size of a goat despite the pony-like body—and coughed a puff of smoke.
Surprised, Maray shrank back.
“There’s your answer.” Corey waved her hand at the smoke until the clouds dissolved. “Occasionally, Gurnyaks breathe toxic smoke.”
“Occasionally?” Maray fought the impulse to retreat to the other side of the small wooden room.
“When they feel threatened.” Corey reassured her there was no danger. “This little one can take down a room of people if it wants to.”
“How does it know you’re not an enemy?” Maray locked her hands in her lap and studied the creature.
“He and I have been friends since I was little.” Corey smiled, going back to memories that remained unseen to Maray.
Maray looked around. The room had wooden walls and a wooden ceiling. It reminded her of a log cabin, just less elaborate. There were antlers hung on the wall above the door. “Basically, this is where Jem, Heck, and I used to come when we were hiding from the palace.” She got to her feet, curls bouncing on her head, and led the way to the door. “Let’s go.”
The door led to a clearing, just big enough to accommodate the one-room cabin. Bare bushes were framing the dead grass, and Maray’s breath froze before her face as she exhaled in a shiver.
“We’re going to practice here,” Corey announced and took a stance at the bottom of the stairs that led from the cabin. “First rule of magic: never use it to hurt anyone.”
“I would never—” Maray stopped mid-sentence. She had hurt Jemin when she had laid her hands on his cheeks to pull his face closer to kiss him. Heat rose in her face, and she wasn’t surprised to see Corey smirk. “Understood. Never hurt anyone.” She lifted her hands and glanced at her palms. “How exactly do I do that?”
Maray remembered how Corey had hugged Jemin when he’d been injured and had basically healed him with a touch of her hand. “You can do more than what a warlock is supposed to do,” she said and knew from the look on Corey’s face that she was both proud and embarrassed about her magic.
“I am a ‘devil-child’.” Corey sat down on the cold stairs and glanced up with eyes darker than Maray remembered.
“Whatever that is, it doesn’t sound good.” Maray wasn’t certain if she should be scared or impressed.
“It’s not good at all.” Corey sighed. “My parents dropped me off on Feris’ doorstep when I showed early signs of magic when I was still an infant.”
“That’s horrible.” Maray cringed from the thought, knowing herself what it meant to be left by a parent. But Corey only shook her head.
“You know how I told you that warlocks develop their magic around the time they come of age?”
Maray nodded at her expectant gaze.
“That’s the norm. I was different—I am.” She lifted a hand and flicked a finger.
It took Maray a moment to realize that there were tiny flames dancing in Corey’s hand; pale as the morning light and almost transparent. But they were enough to make her heart accelerate with excitement. Corey closed her palm, and when she reopened it, the flames were gone.
“How did you just do that?” Maray sat down beside her, ignoring the cold. “Are you even supposed to be able to do that?”
“That’s the thing.” Corey raised a thin eyebrow. “Warlocks aren’t supposed to do this unless it’s an illusion.”
She kept peering at Maray until Maray understood.
“This wasn’t an illusion.”
Corey shook her head, intrigued by Maray’s enthusiasm.
“How did you learn to do this?”
“I almost burned down Feris’ lab.” She shrugged, but there was a mixture of detestation and pain creasing her dark-skinned forehead, triggering a surge of sympathy in Maray.
“How have you been since—?”
“Since Feris gave the demon-loving monster eternal life and betrayed everything he’s ever pretended to stand for?” Corey finished for Maray, bitterness cutting the freezing air. “Great, thanks.” She forced a smile.
“Yeah,” Maray had to bite back a chuckle of irony. “I never thought meeting my grandmother would be like looking into an evil mirror.”
Corey shrugged again, but it looked more like a shiver.
“I am sorry, Corey.” Maray placed her hand on Corey’s arm, unable to express in words how sorry she truly was. All the years of believing in someone, admiring someone, trusting someone… and then…
Corey’s face changed. The bitterness was still there, but there was something more than that; a flicker of determination. “The moment Feris taught me the basics, I knew I was way more powerful than anyone he ever taught. He has done everything he could to keep me from using the full extent of my powers… even if it’s just to help people.” She glanced into the trees, looking forlorn rather than like a powerful warlock.
“The flames are not to help people,” Maray noted and thought back of Jemin’s burning-red cheeks.
“No, they’re not.”
“So, how do I prevent my palms from lighting up, Corey?” Maray got back onto her feet and decided to channel the energy of the moment into something constructive rather than dwelling on the difficulties of family issues.
“I can tell you what it was like for me.” Corey stood up and took a couple of steps into the center of the tiny clearing. “First time my hands caught fire, I burned Feris’ door.” Maray remembered the forced brown door in the warlock quarters. “I couldn’t stop myself; it was just too strong. And when Feris saw what was happening, he told me to breathe.”
“Breathe?” Maray repeated incredulously. “Just ‘breathe’?”
Corey took a deep breath as if to demonstrate the effect of deliberately filling your lungs with air.
“And then he told me to never use that type of magic again.”
Maray watched Corey’s forehead crease into thin dark lines.
“And that’s it?” She couldn’t believe that was how she was supposed to learn to control her magic, and to her relief, Corey shook her head.
“Feris trained me in the basics. Basics meaning how to activate your magic at will, how to transfer it into objects, spells, herbs, and potions.”
“Sounds like a lot to learn.” Maray wondered if she would ever stop being surprised by all the things that were possible in Allinan.
“It is,” Corey agreed. “But more importantly, your magic is way beyond the basics. You have the same powers I have: your magic can pass through skin.”
Maray’s stomach tightened at Corey’s words.
“No need to be afraid,” Corey said and winked. “I learned to handle that part all by myself. And you have me to help you.”
It was good to know she wasn’t alone. Even with both her parents back in her life and no more lies between them, she felt oddly out of place—and that wasn’t just because she didn’t know the first thing about Allinan. It was because she was different from her parents. She had magic. There was a ticking time bomb slumbering inside her hands, and she would do everything she could so she wouldn’t accidentally hurt anyone.
“Now, relax.” Corey closed her eyes as if she was following her own instructions.
Maray followed her lead. The second her eyelids blocked out the cold November day, sequences of memories filled her head. The red eyes of the Yutu in the palace yard, the lifeless shape of Yutu-Langley in the secret quarters of the palace, her mother with tubes in her arms, Jemin—
“Try to clear your mind of negative thoughts. You are safe here.” Corey broke the carousel of images. “Then focus.”
“How?” Maray’s eyelids fluttered open.
Corey was there, watching her intensely and frowning. “Think of something pleasant for a change.”
Her suggestion sounded easy. But what was really truly pleasant in her life at the moment? She had given up her life in the other world—more or less—to be here, in this new enchanted and scary place. Her mother was back, but she had to fall in line with her at court. She could already see how difficult it was going to become. Her mother hadn’t been around, and no matter how much she loved her, the hardest years she had spent were with her father as the only support, and not with Laura, Princess of Allinan.
And then there was Jemin… A hot wave rushed over Maray at the thought of him; not necessarily because of the feeling she had for him, but because of the way he had left the night before. At first, it was less than a tiny licking flame inside her chest. Then, it evolved into full blown disappointment; like all the emotions she had been successfully suppressing were rushing to that one point, collecting, and exploding.
“Maray!” Corey’s voice tore through the haze in her head.
A hand shook her shoulder, and when she opened her eyes, she looked into an orange wall of flames.
“What happened?” At first, the fire seemed to rise from the ground, but when she looked more closely, she noticed that the flames were licking out of her palms and knitting together between her outstretched hands like an orange curtain.
She dropped to the ground, palms down, hoping to cease the fire by suffocating it against the frozen soil. As she looked up through a cloud of smoke, a laughing Corey asked, “Do I even want to know who you were thinking about?”
“Not funny.” Maray scrambled to her feet and eyed her hands. Like last time, there was no visible trace of her magic, but two hand-shaped scorched spots before her boots were proof that she had just created fire. “I thought you were here to help me.”
Corey graciously ignored her comment and took both Maray’s hands into hers. “First, I am going to show you that t
his type of magic is nothing to be afraid of. Even if Gan Krai says in his works that magic like that is impossible, and Feris forbids it—” She gave Maray a look that spoke volumes about what she thought about either of them, “—this magic is who we are. And we are strong. Stronger than any warlock in history, maybe.”
Corey’s words didn’t exactly help Maray to lose the fear over her abilities.
“This might even be what Gan Krai meant when he talked about ‘battle magic’.”
“Battle magic?”
“Magic like that isn’t just for healing or protecting or boring stuff like switching on the local water supply—”
“Hey, I find those basins highly fascinating,” Maray interrupted, earning a smile from the warlock girl.
“It’s the type of magic that could change the outcome of wars.” Corey’s eyes were somber as she let go of Maray’s hands. “You need to learn to draw upon it deliberately, or it’s only a matter of time until you hurt someone.”
“Again,” Maray added and awkwardly thought of Jemin’s crimson cheeks.
“First, relax; empty your mind,” Corey instructed and held Maray’s gaze. “Lift your hands and focus on one single thought: fire.”
Maray did as Corey told her. At first, her mind wandered to Jemin, but then, she managed a clear thought—more a visualizing—of the wall of flames she had produced a minute ago. She nodded.
“Focus on your hands,” Corey instructed. “There is nothing but you and your hands.”
Maray directed her attention into her palms, and there it was: a surge of heat that rushed from her arms, her legs, her head, into her palms. She stared at her hands, waiting to see the manifestation of the sensation in at least a tiny spark, but nothing happened.
“Give it time,” Corey commented, her voice like a purple layer of satin on the icy landscape.
Maray didn’t want to give it time. Even though she hadn’t hurt anyone since that night with Jemin, she realized just how lucky she had been nothing worse had happened. She forced herself to ignore all thoughts of him and tuned out Corey’s voice.
Two Worlds of Oblivion Page 7