My whole body shook with the exertion of trying to keep my own powers from swallowing me. Tears leaked from my eyes with the effort, and with the knowledge that I had hurt and even killed people. It didn’t matter which side of the fight those people had been on—that wasn’t who I wanted to be. The magic had torn away my sense of self as it raced through me, making me do things too dreadful to comprehend. But the magic was as much a part of me as my beating heart, and that meant I had to shoulder the blame for the deaths. I tried to stop the flood pouring through me, tried to pull the magic back.
It wouldn’t return.
My throat tightened with terror as the wind kicked up further, fanning the flames of my fire until it spread to the outer wall of the keep. The screams faded away until I couldn’t hear anything but the frantic gallop of my pulse in my ears.
I tried to think of the earth, of something that could make me feel rooted to the ground. But instead I felt the stone of the wall inside my mind, like I had become part of the flames, like I was crawling over them and heating them with my own body. I saw nothing but fire.
The sound of rocks shattering split the air as the keep wall burst in an enormous explosion.
Then my world went dark.
THREE
Amaranthine
I FLEW TO DENNA’S SIDE THE MOMENT SHE COLLAPSED and the firestorm stopped. Outside, the clash of weapons turned into moans of pain and calls for help. I touched Denna’s forehead with trembling hands. Her skin felt cold and clammy to my touch, but her chest still rose and fell with even breaths. She was the most precious person to me in all the Northern Kingdoms, and I was closer to her than I’d been to anyone, but when she’d stood in that window commanding a wave of fire large enough to destroy a small army, I’d felt like I barely knew her at all. I shivered in the cold and held back the tears that threatened.
“Denna?” I gently shook her shoulder. I didn’t know whether to be more afraid of what she’d done to the Sonnenbornes or of what she might do to me by accident if she were startled awake. I tried not to think about how many people she might have injured or killed. Surely she hadn’t done it on purpose—that wasn’t like her. The magic had to be taking over her mind as well as her body.
“Who’s there?” someone shouted in Zumordan from the barn aisle.
I peered over the edge of the hayloft to see four soldiers, all of them dirty and battered with the marks of battle. The moment they caught sight of me, they started shouting in Zumordan spoken too rapidly for me to follow.
“I need help.” I spoke in Tradespeech, my voice nearly breaking. There was no way I could get Denna down from the loft myself. I had no choice but to trust them, and to hope they could heal her. Maybe they would even know how to keep her magic contained.
“Surrender your weapons!” the leader shouted, now speaking Tradespeech as well.
“We don’t want to hurt you.” I held up my hands. “I only have a bow.”
“Who are you?” the soldier demanded.
For once I was grateful for my rank. “I’m Princess Amaranthine of Mynaria, sent as an ambassador by King Thandilimon. And this is my maid, Lia, who seeks asylum and training for her magical gift.” The lie about Denna’s identity had become familiar on our journey, though never comfortable.
I couldn’t see the soldier’s expression in the shadows, but his stance shifted from aggressive to cautious.
“Princess, you said?” the soldier asked, his voice dubious.
“Yes, and I need help. Lia fell unconscious after the explosion.” I was proud of myself for sounding authoritative even though fear had my hands shaking.
“That explosion almost killed half our fighters!” the soldier said.
“It also drove back the Sonnenbornes and saved your life,” I snapped back. “We were trying to help. Now, can someone please get her a medic?”
The soldiers murmured among themselves for a moment.
“We’ll see if we can spare a medic,” the leader finally said to me. “There were a lot of injuries in the battle.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’d hoped I would make it here in time to prevent anything like this from happening. King Thandilimon sent me to warn you of a threat from Sonnenborne.”
The soldier seemed to relax a little bit at this overt display of allyship. “Let’s get you both down from there and take a look at her,” he said.
Denna’s small frame made it easy for them to carry her down the ladder and settle her atop some clean horse blankets in the barn aisle.
“Her breathing is strong,” one of the soldiers noted. “She probably overspent her gift.” He shook his head. “Someone of her age and strength should know better.”
I bristled. “She’s untrained.”
“What?” The soldier turned to me with a shocked expression.
“Magic users aren’t welcome in Mynaria. She’s had to hide her gift her whole life,” I said. The facts somehow felt bigger than they had before, maybe because I now knew just how powerful her gifts were. My stomach turned, and I swallowed hard. She would never hurt anyone on purpose unless she had to. She wasn’t that kind of person—at least not when her magic was under control.
“Tavi, please go see if the medics can make arrangements for this girl,” the head soldier said. “We’ll meet you at the main gate.”
One of the soldiers gave him a sharp nod, then stepped back from the group. Her limbs curled in on themselves as she dropped to her hands and knees. A slender red fox stood where she’d been just a few heartbeats before. A chill crept down my spine as she turned to trot out of the stables. Magic that would get someone condemned in my homeland was performed so casually here.
“Let’s get your maid to the keep,” the lead soldier said. At his instruction, a muscular soldier picked up Denna, and the group of us trudged out of the stables. The body of the Sonnenborne woman Denna had tripped through the hayloft window lay splayed on the stone path just outside the front door. Her left leg jutted out from underneath her at an impossible angle that made my stomach heave. Denna had saved my life at the cost of another, and that death hadn’t even been caused by magic. I didn’t know how to feel about that but couldn’t stop the wave of discomfort that crested within me at the thought. We stepped around the corpse, and I took deep breaths of the smoky night air to keep from gagging.
Closer to the keep, people carried injured soldiers past on litters while others directed foot traffic. Tavi, the fox woman, reappeared in human form a few moments later.
“We can’t spare a medic,” she said. “But they’ve sent for the herb witch, and a private room is being arranged.”
“Why not put her in the medical ward with the others?” I asked. I wanted Denna where she could get the best care, not in a private room because the Zumordans were trying to respect me or honor what Denna had done for them.
“The herb witch will better be able to treat her,” the lead soldier said, but a shifty look in his eyes betrayed him.
I looked around, noticing that our conversation had suddenly cleared out the area. What had been a hub of activity a few minutes before was quickly dissipating. Then I understood. They didn’t want her in the medical ward with the other soldiers because they didn’t trust her not to hurt anyone again. Besides, people she’d injured by mistake would likely be there under the care of the medics. Getting a room of her own was a defensive move, not an honor for the girl who’d saved their hides.
“Of course,” I said. What choice did I have but to agree?
Inside the keep, the soldiers escorted us to a small room with rugged stone walls and a fire already blazing in the hearth. They laid Denna down on a cot with her head pillowed on a folded blanket.
“We’ll leave you for now,” the lead soldier said. “A guard will be posted outside your door. For safety.”
I doubted Denna’s safety or mine was what truly concerned them, but I couldn’t blame them for not putting much faith in us. Our mistrust was mutual.
After
the door closed behind them, I sat on the floor next to Denna’s cot and took her hand in mine. Fears rushed in to consume me. What had she done to herself? What if she never woke up? She’d lost consciousness when she’d saved me from Kriantz, too. Surely this couldn’t always be the cost of using her magic. Not for the first time, I wished she could somehow give her magic away and be free of it. That would make our lives so much less complicated. Guilt weighed on me for even thinking it. I knew her Affinity was part of her and that she’d be hurt if she knew I’d ever wished it away, but I didn’t know how else to keep her—or us—safe.
A loud knock sounded at the door, startling me back to my feet. I hadn’t expected the herb witch to arrive so quickly. But the person waiting for me on the other side was no herbalist—he was a tall, bearded soldier still covered in the filth of battle.
“Lord Wymund, guardian of Duvey Keep, at your service,” he said, extending a hand in greeting. His Tradespeech was barely accented, no doubt thanks to living in a border town.
“Thank you for your hospitality, my lord,” I said, inviting him in.
“It isn’t often we have a princess in our midst.” He looked over my shoulder at Denna, who lay very still on the cot. “And we’re grateful for your help turning back the attackers.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Please just call me Mare.”
“Like a horse?” He seemed amused.
“It’s odd, I know—”
“Soldiers go by all kinds of names.” He shrugged. “One fellow who used to fight for me went by Carmella Meatball. He was awfully handy with an ax.”
I blinked.
“Anyway, we’ve been expecting you—we received a message for you from King Thandilimon yesterday. Glad you made it in one piece.”
“What message?” I asked, startled. I hadn’t expected to hear from my brother. It was almost impossible to get messages from Mynaria to Zumorda or vice versa, given how little fondness there was between our two kingdoms. It had been my expectation that I wouldn’t be able to reach him from Zumorda at all—at least not until I’d managed to curry some favor with the queen and things were looking promising for an alliance. The only other option to reach him was to somehow communicate using magic. Even if I’d known who to ask about that, I had a lot of misgivings.
“A bird delivered this yesterday, along with a note asking me to hold it for you.” Wymund handed me a small envelope. The message showed no signs of tampering—my brother’s blue seal was still stamped in place.
“Thank you, my lord,” I said, itching to open the note, but also worried about what I’d find inside. It couldn’t be anything good.
“I must attend to my soldiers now,” Wymund said. “Funeral rites will be held in the morning. After the dead have been properly honored, we’ll have a victory feast in the evening. I hope you’ll consider joining us.”
“Thank you for the invitation. It would be an honor.” It was the diplomatic thing to do, although the thought of leaving Denna for even a few sunlengths made fear prickle down my spine. Hopefully she’d be awake and well enough to attend with me.
I sat down at Denna’s bedside, checking to make sure she was still breathing. Her stillness frightened me so much. I couldn’t decide whether that or watching her use her powers was more terrifying. Both made me feel like I could lose her at any moment, and that was the scariest thought of all. As soon as I was assured her status hadn’t changed, I turned my attention to Thandi’s letter. I slipped my finger underneath the seal and opened the flap of the envelope. The date on the letter was only a few days past, making me wonder again how he’d gotten it to me so quickly. A bird wouldn’t have been able to fly from Lyrra all the way over the Zumordan border in such a short time. Seeing my brother’s swooping script on the page brought an unexpected swell of emotion. Given how contentious our relationship had always been, it surprised me to find that I missed him—at least until I began to read.
Dear Amaranthine,
Hopefully this letter will find you safe in Zumorda. Unfortunately, I have bad news. The riots between the fundamentalists and the Recusants on the Trindor Canal paved the way for an attack. The canal city of Zephyr Landing was overtaken by Sonnenbornes a few days ago. Many of our people were killed.
We’ve sent cavalry, but in the meantime, the Sonnenbornes have completely cut off inland trade and taken over canal trade from Port Jirae. The handoff was so smooth, they must have been planning it long before the riots began. As you can guess, this changes everything. I need you to do more than open a dialogue with the Zumordans—I need you to ask for their help reclaiming Zephyr Landing. I’m prepared to send another regiment of cavalry to Zumorda to help defend their cities in exchange—I’ll station them just across the border for easy summons. Havemont has continued to be a supportive ally—Princess Alisendi has been a great help as my liaison while we attempt to renegotiate our alliance in light of Dennaleia’s death.
This message was delivered with the help of the Recusants; surely you understand how dire things are for me to be working with them. I know your taking on a full ambassadorial role wasn’t the plan, but from this point forward, you are my eyes, my ears, and my voice in Zumorda. Please consider yourself an official ambassador of the Mynarian crown, with all the power bestowed by the office.
Your kingdom and your brother are counting on you.
Yours,
King Thandilimon of Mynaria
I muttered a string of profanity colorful enough to get my title stripped. How could Thandi do this to me? An unfamiliar wash of guilt followed the typical rage. How couldn’t he do this to me? People had died, and more battles were yet to come if what we’d found here in Duvey was any indication. He’d already been desperate enough to work with the Recusants, a group of magic users he hated and mistrusted.
The only contact he had in Zumorda with any power to help was me.
FOUR
Dennaleia
THE SOUND OF SCREAMING STABBED THROUGH MY skull like a knife. I opened my eyes, but shadows lingered in my vision, slowly giving way to blinding light. Once they dissipated, the source of the brightness became clear: flames surged on all sides of me. I was on fire—and the screams were coming from my own throat.
Fear gripped me like a vise. Neither my magic nor my body was under my control.
Icy water cascaded over my head as an unfamiliar woman upended a bucket over me, cutting off my screams. She immediately followed the water with a wool blanket that snuffed the remaining flames. My teeth chattered from the sudden change in temperature as the room slowly came together—beamed ceiling overhead, stone walls to either side, wet cot beneath. Near the hearth, the unfamiliar brown-eyed woman stared at me curiously, waiting for me to respond. Her wild gray hair was barely contained in a knot at her neck, and a colorful cloak made of scrap cloth hung from her shoulders, the stitches tidy as a surgeon’s.
“Mare?” My voice came out as barely more than a croak. Where was she?
“Mare is at supper with Lord Wymund.” The woman spoke Tradespeech quite fluently. “I’m Sarika. Now tell me, how do you feel?”
“Head hurts,” I mumbled. I sat up and my vision swam. Physically, I felt almost as terrible as I had after saving Mare from Kriantz. “What happened?”
“Apparently, you don’t react kindly to smelling salts,” Sarika said wryly. “Do you remember the battle?”
I nodded. Of course I did. Everything had been fine until I lost control. After that attacker had rushed at Mare, I’d let everything get out of hand. My stomach heaved as I remembered the look of surprise in the woman’s eyes when she’d pitched out the open loft window and fallen to her death. I hadn’t really meant to kill her, but there hadn’t been time to think. After that, my memories were blurry. Still, I knew I’d hurt people—and it hadn’t just been our enemies.
“That wave of flame was hard to miss,” Sarika added, tucking an unruly spiral of gray hair behind her ear.
I cast my eyes to the floor, ashamed tha
t I’d made such a dramatic scene and frightened to think that people were injured or dead because of me—again.
“How many on our side were burned?” I needed to know, even though fear rose in me at the thought.
“Five were injured,” Sarika said. “I was supplying the medics with herbs to make burn compresses when they came to tell me about you.”
She sounded so calm, but I couldn’t even begin to conjure the same stoicism. My throat tightened and I blinked back tears. I set out to help people with my magic but always seemed to end up harming them instead. I didn’t want this to keep happening. I’d come here to get training, to educate myself, and the first thing I’d done was hurt people. Even the Sonnenbornes hadn’t deserved what I’d unleashed on them.
“Try not to fret. The fighters will heal in time,” Sarika told me. “I may not be a master healer, but I have enough of the gift to help them start to mend. Besides, if you hadn’t nearly blown this place to bits, they might have found themselves on the wrong end of a Sonnenborne spear. Because of you, they’ll live to see the next battle.”
“It doesn’t make what I did right,” I said. She couldn’t possibly mean for me to think they might be grateful for what I’d done. If I hadn’t felt so weak and unsteady, I would have gathered my things, found Mare, and fled as fast as my feet could carry me. The thought of facing people whose friends I’d hurt or killed was too much to bear. I already didn’t know how I was going to live with myself.
“At least you kept them from taking any more prisoners.” Sarika shook her head. “The parents who lost children are harder to help than the burn victims.”
“The Sonnenbornes took children?” I asked, my heart dropping as I remembered the blond boy we’d failed to save.
“Not the smallest of them, but yes. Most of those who are missing seem to be between ten and twenty winters of age.”
“But why?” I felt sick. How could that figure into the Sonnenbornes’ master plan? Hostages meant more mouths to feed, so there would have to be a compelling reason to take them.
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