by Cora Carmack
Calibah.
Finn.
She saw the pieces, knew how they would fit together if life were fiction, but how, how could this be?
“Are you saying…” She trailed off, staring at her mother.
The queen pushed herself up a little higher in the bed, and wiped her tears. “Aurora, may I present to you Lord Finneus Wolfram of Calibah. Lord Wolfram, I believe you know my daughter.”
Finneus Wolfram, nephew to the king, left Calibah that day with a small contingent of soldiers and sailors, intent on finding safe passage to another land. Neither his ship, nor he was ever seen again, and the city of Calibah fell to catastrophic storms two weeks later.
—The Fall of Calibah and the Mystery of Lord Wolfram
16
Kiran’s head was pounding as the voices in the room swelled to a deafening noise. They were damned lucky it was morning, and there were no customers to overhear them in the tavern below.
He was having a hard enough time grasping the fact that his mentor, the man who had practically raised him from the time he had joined the crew at eleven, was some long-lost, believed-to-be-dead lord. The fact that he had apparently once had an affair with Aurora’s mother before the queen was married was a thought he had set aside to examine another day—hopefully one that never came.
Aurora had been shocked by the revelation of the affair. She barely took a breath while berating her mother for never telling her she had known the Finneus Wolfram, really known him. But that was far from the most dire news of the evening. Once Kiran had finally gotten Aurora to calm down, he managed to get her to explain why she had abandoned the tavern and run upstairs in the first place.
The Lockes knew she was in the city. And they had tasked one of her old guards to lead the search for her.
Kiran had sent notes to the relevant parties, asking for a meeting the next morn, and here they were in Zephyr’s office—Duke and the still-healing Pavan queen sitting off to one side, Zephyr pacing behind her desk, Taven standing in the corner with a stern expression, and the rest of his crew looking on, as dumbfounded as he no doubt looked. Aurora stood across the room, her face grim, and her arms wrapped tightly around her middle.
“I do not understand how word got out,” Zephyr fumed. “We have been so careful. Taven, have you heard anything?”
“Nothing. I can try to talk to Merrin.”
“No,” Zephyr snapped. “He is in too deep. It is more dangerous to risk alerting them of your involvement.”
“Merrin?” Aurora asked. “Merrin is in too deep? What does that mean?”
Taven sighed. “He was one of the first volunteers to go out on a mission to search for you. He went south to Odilar with a contingent of Locke soldiers. All but three died. He has been different since he came back. I was never sure enough of his loyalties after that to approach him about the resistance. I do not know where he stands.”
Aurora’s eyes widened, and she clutched her own elbows tightly. She looked as if she was trying to force herself to take up less space. “So, if he found me, you think he might turn me over to Cassius, regardless of my wishes?”
Taven shrugged. “I do not know, Your Highness.”
Aurora scowled. “I told you to stop with that nonsense.”
“The point is…” Zephyr cut in. “Somehow they know you are in the city, and they are going to be looking for you, which means no more floor time on the tavern. No leaving this building at all. We have to keep you hidden until the time is right.”
“And when will that be?” Aurora asked.
“When I say it is,” Zephyr growled, bracing her hands on her desk.
Unable to stand any more of the back-and-forth, Kiran cut in, “Would it not be better to get her out of the city entirely? We do not know how far the Lockes will go to find her. They could start raiding neighborhoods indiscriminately.”
“You think they have time to do that on a hunch?” Zephyr asked. “When storms threaten daily? Surely not.”
“It depends on how sure they are she is here.”
Kiran’s eyes turned to Aurora, whose face had gone remarkably pale, even for her. Based on her wary expression, he guessed everyone else’s gaze had fixed on her too. “Do you know where you might have been seen?” he asked. “Could someone have caught sight of you in the palace?” Aurora hesitated and an awful thought occurred to him. “Or they could have gotten the information another way.” His eyes flicked to Ransom, then Duke. “From Jinx, or your friend. Jinx is the most loyal person I know, but we don’t know what they are doing to them in there. One of them could have even revealed something by accident.”
All of a sudden, Aurora dropped her arms from where they were wound tightly around her waist. “It was not them. It was me.”
This time, Kiran’s voice joined the cacophony, and Aurora closed her eyes and let the noise spill over her. He wanted to rush over and shake her, then take her far, far away from here.
“What do you mean it was you?” he asked.
Aurora swallowed and lifted her chin. “I was worried for Jinx and Nova’s safety, so I made a choice. Before we left, I wrote Cassius a note.”
It was like a hurricane swept through his head. Kiran needed to sit down. There were no chairs left, so he ended up leaning against Zephyr’s desk, his mind reeling.
“That’s what you went back for,” Sly popped in, speaking up for the first time from the corner she leaned back in.
“It was the best way I could think of to guarantee they stayed unharmed.”
Ransom’s gruff voice joined the fray as he said, “You probably did the exact opposite. All you did was tell the prince that they have information on you. They are likely being tortured for that information as we speak.”
Aurora’s face went ghostly white, and her fingertips found the wall at her back, steadying herself.
“No.” Aurora shook her head vehemently. “No, it was not like that. I told Cassius to treat them well.”
Zephyr snorted. “And you think that despot will do as you ask? You think he has a heart?”
Aurora gritted her teeth and shook her head. “Of course not. I left him for a reason. But I do think that he … he wants me. He could have just taken the kingdom when I left. I gave him the perfect opportunity to have everything he wanted. Instead, he searched for me relentlessly. Obsessively. He sent soldiers to die in the wildlands who could have helped fight the Stormlord here. I do not know why, but if he would go to those lengths for me before, I thought I could save Jinx and Nova by tying them to me. To buy us time.”
For once, the room fell into quiet. But though the world might have been silent, Kiran was screaming on the inside. To think that that monster wanted Aurora made him ill. The fact that she’d had to run away to keep from marrying him made it hard not to resent the vulnerable old woman sitting silently only a few steps away. It made him want to break things, starting with the prince’s face against his knuckles.
“Well, that settles it then,” he said. “He will not rest until he finds her, not if he knows for certain she is here. We need to either get her into hiding or get her out of the city.”
“And we need to get Jinx out of that damn palace,” Ransom barked.
“I have connections in a small outpost north of the city,” Zephyr said. “We could hide her there for the time being until things die down.”
“No,” Aurora cried. “I am done hiding. We need supplies to rescue Jinx, right? Did you not mention the possibility of sending me into the wilds to stock up on magic? We could do that. Then I am out of the city, and we are preparing for the next steps. We will come back with everything we need to rescue Jinx and take down the Lockes once and for all.”
Zephyr stopped where she was and turned to meet the gaze of her lieutenant, Raquim, who stood silent and still in the corner of the room. Kiran had forgotten he was there entirely. “That could work,” she said. “Though you will be in danger in the wilds as well. And I am not sure how long you will have to stay.
I can smuggle you out of the city, along with supplies in and out when needed.”
“How will you do that?” Aurora asked.
Zephyr gave her a hard look and jerked her chin toward the queen. “I think I have given away enough of my secrets in present company.”
Aphra Pavan held up her hands, and the movement was graceful despite her illness. “Please, we have the same intentions. I would see my daughter safe, and the kingdom restored to her guidance.”
Zephyr raised an eyebrow. “Not your own?”
“I am an old woman. And if age gives one nothing else, it should be the ability to learn from one’s past. It was my decisions that brought the Lockes to this place, that allowed them to enact their schemes. My daughter clearly saw what I could not. I will provide any help or information you would like, but…” She trailed off for a moment and glanced at Duke. “The crown is not everything.”
“Then it is settled. Tonight at midnight, we smuggle you out.”
“And me,” Kiran added. “She will need another hunter to collect the magic, while she focuses on controlling the storm. I have the most experience, other than Duke. And he is retired. And occupied. I can keep her safe should anything happen while we are in the wilds.”
“Any other reasons?” Duke asked, those blue eyes challenging him like they had so many times through the years, so many times when he thought Duke was just another misfit like him, not some lord.
“Does there need to be another reason?” he asked.
Taven asked, “Is that acceptable to you, Your High—” He trailed off at the glare Aurora gave him and added, “If you require more guards, I will gladly come.”
“We need your eyes and ears in the palace,” Zephyr declared. “I want you to try to find out whatever you can about Jinx and Nova—where they are being held, how many guards, when they change shifts. If the princess wants more guards for her sojourn in the wilds, she will have to choose someone else.”
“I do not need more guards. I do not need any guards,” Aurora pushed.
“But you do need another hunter,” Kiran said, meeting her eyes.
“I suppose that is true.”
“Then are we settled?” Zephyr asked. “Midnight?”
Aurora met Kiran’s gaze, and though she looked wary, she did not refuse. She nodded. “Midnight.”
* * *
“You should sleep.”
Jinx’s voice drifted across the dark room to Nova’s wide-awake ears. She had been trying. But it was one of those nights where she heard every little sound, and her mind magnified it like ripples in a pond. And her thoughts kept following those ripples to anywhere but here—to Aurora out in the city somewhere. Was she safe? What was the rebellion doing now? Would they be coming back for her and Jinx? Her mind drifted to her parents. She had heard nothing of them since her incarceration. Were they worried for her? Had they been spared punishment or had she somehow dragged them down too? Perhaps she had been gone long enough that they had decided to move on, live a life free from the danger she presented. She would not resent them for it. Though she would miss them. Frankly, she would worry less if they were gone, when there was only herself to hurt.
And then there was Jinx. Nova thought about her more than she cared to admit. The obvious things—where she came from, what her life had been like, how she had learned so much about magic. But Nova also thought about less practical things that she had less explanation for. She thought about what Jinx’s hair felt like where it was cut short on the side of her head. Would it be soft like the long tresses on the other side, or rough and spiky? Nova had grown used to the feel of Jinx—the warmth of her magic in the air, the gentle nudge of energy that felt peaceful and bright. And she wondered how her magic felt to Jinx—did it make her stomach both toss and settle all at the same time?
“You are thinking too much,” Jinx said.
“How do you know that?”
“Am I wrong?”
Nova flopped over onto her side to face Jinx in the dark. “No.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“What am I not thinking about?”
“Need a distraction?” Jinx asked.
“Please.”
Nova heard the quiet fall of feet in the dark and then the end of her bed sunk as Jinx climbed on with her. Nova’s heart clenched hard, then set off at a speed that had her feeling dizzy.
“Up,” Jinx ordered.
Nova froze, suddenly nervous in a different way than she normally experienced. She was hyperaware of her body and the space around it, but for once it had nothing to do with her fire.
“Come on. Up,” Jinx insisted, grabbing Nova by the forearms and hauling her inelegantly upward. Nova flopped forward, and Jinx laughed. Nova laughed too, glad the other girl could not see the heat rising on her cheeks.
“Let’s practice. Hands out.”
“Umm…” Nova hesitated. “I am not sure.”
“Then tell me your most embarrassing secrets.”
Nova’s jaw dropped, and she sucked in air.
“Now magic does not seem so bad, eh?”
“Sleep does not seem so bad.”
“Too bad. You have me awake now. We might as well take advantage of the quiet hours.”
There tended to be less guards on the overnight, and while Nova knew the guards were out there, they rarely spoke or moved in the nighttime hours, which gave her at least the illusion of more safety.
“What would we practice exactly?” Nova asked.
“Well, you seem to be doing much better with your balance. I’m curious to know how that will impact your control over the actual manifestation of your magic. How often do you actually use it?”
“Only when I must. In the days before you arrived, I used to rip pieces from the hem of my skirt to burn when I began to feel too full and worried I might slip accidentally.”
“That must have been stressful.” Jinx’s voice was warm and soft in the dark.
Nova shrugged, even though she was not sure Jinx could see the motion.
“I have never known a fire witch myself,” Jinx said, “but the crew I travel with had one before me. They said she had precise aim, that she would sometimes use the campfire to tell stories, shaping the flame into a tiny stage with people and places and storms and battles. She helped them build a massive carriage, the likes of which you have never seen. It is all carefully shaped metal that can withstand even the fiercest storms of the wildlands. I did not know the witch, but they speak of her fondly, and of her powers with awe. So it is possible for you to find that kind of control, for you to live without fear of lapses.”
“I would like that,” Nova said. She had hesitated to let the words out, afraid of even admitting that she wanted such a thing, because then it would hurt so much more if she never got it. But she was having difficulty holding back. Maybe because she had let her magic go, because it flowed through her freely, and instead of the world falling apart, she felt more alive than ever. The temptation to continue loosening the reins was near impossible to resist.
“Then let’s try it. Cup your hands together, and attempt to make a small flame, only the size of a candle’s wick.”
Nova sat more upright, and pulled her legs up, situating herself more comfortably. That left more room for Jinx, which she filled, scooting until she was face-to-face with Nova as they had been a few nights before.
“Start very small. Think of it as expanding the circulation of the magic you already have going in your body, instead of pushing it out with nowhere to go, which might result in some, ah, unexpected trajectories. Imagine the loop expanding outside your hands just enough for a small flame, but then returning to join the rotation again. No magic will actually leave your body, you are just expanding your control of it into the world beyond your flesh and bones.”
Nova cupped her hands together as suggested and closed her eyes, letting herself fall back into the rush of the magic inside her, following it through the circulation of her body sev
eral times as she had been practicing.
“You are doing well,” Jinx told her. “Really, you have taken to this much faster than I expected. It took me years to come to terms with my magic and establish the balance you have found in a few days.”
Nova kept her breathing steady, and let her shoulders settle back, finding a straighter posture. “I have a lot of practice with mental focus. This felt like a natural extension of that.”
“Mental focus? You mean from trying to control the fire?”
“No. Well, yes, that too, but my mother always said I was a nervous child. She said I would make myself sick with worry.” Nova gave a small laugh. “The fire did not help. But it was merely one consequence of many I feared.”
“What kind of things did you fear?”
“Oh, anything and everything. Some of which were reasonable—being caught, not having enough money, disappointing my parents, not being able to control my magic. For those, I would catch myself playing out elaborate worst scenarios, torturing myself again and again under the guise of being prepared. Some fears were harder to explain. Sometimes I would convince myself that things were my fault. That a storm had come because I had stitched a button wrong, or been too slow with my work duties, or talked with too many people that day. Some days I would wake up convinced that something awful was going to happen—and I would wait with this gnawing ache all day, feeling too ill to eat, certain that something dire was sure to occur. I constantly wavered between feeling to the point of exhaustion and shutting myself away with the goal of avoidance—neither of which helped.”
“What did help?” Jinx asked.
“Honestly?” Nova asked. “This helps. This balance. Before, I used to go to a quiet place in my head and breathe, try to let the thoughts pass without engaging. Sometimes I would count. I would try to distract myself from falling down those endless sinkholes of agony and paranoia and never being enough.”
“Wow,” Jinx breathed. “That’s beautiful.”
Confused on how any of what she said could be beautiful, Nova opened her eyes and found that she had produced a tall, thin flame from the valley of her hands.