Red as Flame

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Don’t lose focus,” Mistress Ainya said to me while her power pushed at my shield.

I squeezed my hands into fists, trying to repel the jabs of her magic while summoning my own sorcery. It was like balancing on one foot while pouring a heavy jug of water into a tiny glass, without spilling a drop.

Inevitably, I failed. The mirror shield broke, my wavering power fled, and the cailleach’s spell pricked me like a dozen needles to the chest.

I winced and rubbed my palm over my heart. “I’m sorry.”

The scent of drying herbs and mint tea filled Mistress Ainya’s cozy kitchen, and the sound of bees in the garden drifted through the open window. I inhaled deeply, trying to regain my sense of control.

“It was better than the first time,” the herbwife said.

“Not much.” I frowned. “What if the red priests try to probe my magic?”

“Oh, they will, of a certainty.” She smiled at me, the lines around her bright blue eyes crinkling in her wizened face. “But your shield is strong enough that they will not see all of your power.”

If she was right, that was a relief. I didn’t know what the priests might do with me. In Parnese, anyone with fire sorcery was either forced to join the sect of the Twin Gods or was put to the stake and burned alive.

I couldn’t imagine Lord Raine allowing either of those fates for me. Still, the less the priests knew of my abilities, the better.

“Will they be able to tell that I can siphon power?” I asked, wrapping my hands around the earthenware mug of tea on the table before me.

Mistress Ainya shook her head. “They can’t possibly suspect such a thing, unless they witness you doing it. Which you must never, ever do. They would either try to incinerate you on the spot, or twist your powers to their own uses.”

“I’ll be careful.” I took a swallow of tea, trying to ease the fear tightening my throat.

Despite my lack of control, I couldn’t imagine any circumstance in which I’d use my magic around the red priests. Unless, of course, that was the reason they were coming to Raine.

“Will they test me for sorcery?”

She gave me a steady look. “We both know the priests are coming to Raine in answer to your power, Rose. Why else do you think Lord Raine is bringing you to Portknowe to meet them?”

“But…” I forced myself to breathe, so the rest of my words wouldn’t come out tight with panic. “Once they confirm I have the power, then what? Will they force me to go to Parnese with them?”

“The king won’t allow them to steal you away.” She gave me a considering look. “They might use you as an excuse to leave a priest in Raine, however. Someone to tutor you—and spy upon the kingdom.”

I caught my lower lip between my teeth. Despite the sunshine spilling over the flagstone floor, a chill moved up my spine.

“They can’t,” I said. “What if they discover the doorway to Elfhame?”

The gateway to the magical realm of the Dark Elves was the kingdom’s most closely guarded secret. If the red priests discovered it, they’d certainly try to invade, battle their way to the center of the Darkwood, and attempt to open the doorway by force. The priests were hungry for magic and power—and Elfhame held both in abundance.

The warrior mages of the Dark Elves would be able to fight the fire sorcery of the red priests, but not, I suspected, without great cost.

“The king will do what is necessary to protect the kingdom,” she said calmly. “And you.”

I wasn’t certain I believed her, though I supposed I had little choice.

“I’m ready again,” I said, pushing my mug away. “Let’s keep working on the mirror shield.”

The cailleach nodded, then stabbed at me with her power so quickly I was barely able to raise the mirrored bubble around myself.

Reflect, I thought fiercely. There’s nothing much here. Only traces of magic.

Mistress Ainya continued to prod and poke, but I thought of Thorne, and my sister trapped in Elfhame, and steadfastly kept the shield in place.

“Excellent,” she said after several minutes. “I doubt the priests will give you a sustained examination—and even if they do, you’ve just proven yourself able to withstand it.”

I blew out a breath, suddenly aware of the weariness settling over me. A broken night’s sleep and a grueling magic tutorial were taking their toll.

“Give yourself a rest,” Mistress Ainya said. “But keep practicing.”

“At least I won’t have to worry about trying to hold the shield and using my sorcery at the same time,” I said. It would be foolish indeed to try practicing magic in the presence of the Twin Gods’ priests—and especially in front of the warder.

“When you return, we’ll work on teaching your sorcery how to draw from within.” Her expression grew serious. “It’s very strange that your magic would try to use outside sources instead of the power inside you.”

“Why do you think it’s doing that?” I asked.

“I can only guess it’s because of your late onset. Such a strong ability should have manifested years ago.” She tilted her head at me. “And perhaps it was attempting to emerge, when we consider the strange happenings in your past. Most unusual, at any rate.”

I let out a quiet sigh and rubbed at the pinky stub on my left hand. It had started aching, probably because I’d been clenching my hands so hard in concentration. Once again, I’d proven myself flawed.

Would things ever be easy for me? I was so weary of struggling for every scrap.

You have Thorne, I reminded myself, and the knowledge flooded me with warmth. We belonged to each other now, though we’d spoken no formal vows. But despite the uncertainty in our future, I knew we’d face it together.

A knock came at the cottage door, followed by the voice of the guard who’d accompanied me to Mistress Ainya’s.

“Lady Rose, it’s time to leave.”

“Give me a moment,” I called, then looked across the table at the herbwife. “Well. I suppose I’m ready.”

She reached over and took my hand. “You are, child. Trust yourself and the choices you make.”

I blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

The words were an eerie echo of what the Oracles had said to me in Elfhame. Choices and consequences. I’d thought the price they’d referred to had already been paid when I faced the Nightshade Lord in his throne room.

But maybe I’d been wrong.

“Fate isn’t done with you yet,” Mistress Ainya said. “I sense it still hovering at your shoulder.”

Wonderful.

“What can I do?” I tried to keep my voice firm, though the question trembled through me.

“Walk the path before your feet.” She squeezed my hand, then let go. “I have faith in you.”

“Lady Rose,” the guard called again.

“Coming!” I scraped back my chair and stood. “Thank you, Mistress Ainya. For everything.”

She shook her head at me, her gaze bright beneath the white thistledown of her hair. “Don’t thank me yet. Travel safely.”

Well—that was slightly ominous. At least the herbwife wasn’t as opaque as the Oracles, though she still spoke in half riddles.

“I will. I’ll be back soon.”

Her expression as I stepped out the door made me uneasy. It wasn’t the look of someone who expected to see me the next week.

The guard helped me mount Sterling, the gray mare I was accustomed to riding, then swung up on his own mount. As we turned down the grassy lane leading away from the cailleach’s cottage, I turned in the saddle to give the clearing one final look.

It was peaceful: the profusion of herbs and flowers growing about the whitewashed walls, the curl of smoke ascending from the chimney above the faded gold of the thatched roof. Still, I couldn’t shake the premonition that I wouldn’t see it again for some time.

Foolishness, surely. I straightened and followed my escort down the lane.

We wound through the village of Little Hazel, a cheerful place, despite the fact it abutted a fearsome enchanted forest. The few people we passed raised their hands in greeting, but most of the villagers were working, either at the castle or in the fields, or tending to their homes.

Lively chatter and the sound of glasses clinking came from Geary’s Alehouse as we rode past. I glanced at the angle of the sun, realizing with mild surprise that the afternoon was nearly gone.

Another day closer to facing the red priests. Despite the warmth of the summer sun, I shivered.

As soon as we returned to the castle, I went to my rooms, unsurprised to find Sorche packing my travel trunk.

“Surely I won’t need that many gowns,” I said, glancing at the stack of a half-dozen carefully folded garments upon my bed. “Three are enough.”

“I can’t send you off unprepared,” she said, pulling yet another dress from my wardrobe. “What if you’re delayed, or spill something on your sleeve? It’s better to have too many than too few, I’m thinking. And there’s certainly room.”

“Maybe we can find a smaller trunk,” I said, half in jest, glancing at the wooden container. If she really wanted to, Sorche could probably cram my entire wardrobe into the voluminous space.

The maid gave me a reproachful look. “You’re a princess. If anything, you should be traveling with more luggage.”

“We’ll only be gone a few days.”

I pressed my lips together, calculating. One day to travel to Portknowe; one to wait for Galtus Celcio’s ship to arrive. A day, perhaps two, for the king to meet with the red priests and then send them on their way. One more to travel back to the castle. Less than a week.

But Sorche had made it clear that arguing with her was futile. I left her to sort out my attire and retreated to my small sitting room. The empty hearth smelled faintly of old ashes, and I couldn’t help remembering all the times Neeve, Kian, and I had sat there, talking and arguing and drinking spiced tea.

I’d write to my sister again, after we returned from Portknowe, and tell her all about the red priests. I should write to Kian, too, though a letter would take longer to reach Fiorland by boat than by simply handing it to Thorne to carry between the realms.

Once more, yearning for Thorne twisted through me, a bittersweet wrench of emotions that made me want to smile and cry at the same time.

But he’d be returning to the mortal world soon after I was back at the castle. I could wait that long, especially with the fearful trip looming ahead to distract me. It was the only good thing about the arrival of the red priests, though I’d far prefer a boring stretch of days at Castle Raine to the stomach-churning prospect of coming face to face with Galtus Celcio.