“It doesn’t,” Sophie agreed.
“So. You are a threat. A risk that the temple—at least under that woman’s rule—is unlikely to tolerate for long, in my estimation. The second person threatened by you is the queen herself. You are strong, even if you are untrained. Stronger than Eloisa herself. And now very close in the line direct. A very attractive tool to those who may have been biding their time under King Stefan’s rule.”
“I am loyal to my queen,” Sophie protested.
“That may not matter. So. A dilemma. If the Domina tried to kill you and you run, then she has all the resources of the temple behind her to search for you. If it was the queen, then she has both the temple and the Red Guard and the rest of the military. Do you truly believe you can remain hidden for long under these circumstances?”
“What other option do we have?” Sophie asked. She couldn’t fault Chloe’s logic, but she didn’t see what else they could do besides run.
Madame de Montesse straightened her shoulders. “The route that brings Illvyan refugees to Anglion also runs in the opposite direction.”
Sophie gaped at her. “You think we should go to Illvya? Illvyans hate Anglions.”
Chloe shook her head, sending her long braid bouncing. “No. We do not. Not in the way that Anglions hate Illvyans.”
“But—”
Chloe held up a hand. “Hear me out. It is true that my country has tried to conquer yours. But it is not out of any desire to kill all Anglions. I know that you are taught differently. Taught to fear us. But Illvya wants Anglion for its resources, mostly. We do not destroy the countries we add to our empire. That makes no sense. You would not be the first Anglions to take this road.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Cameron said.
“Nor I,” Sophie added.
“It is hardly within the interests of those in power to let you find out, though, is it?” Chloe said. “They wish you to be afraid of us. Which is the other part of the reason Illvya would like to control Anglion. Just as you have objections to our beliefs and our practice of the fourth Art, so do my countrymen object to your suppression of it and the way your temple limits your knowledge and access to magic.”
“Why should we believe you?” Sophie said. “After all, you fled Illvya. If it is such a perfect place—”
“It is not perfect,” Chloe said. “And I have told you why I left.”
Beside her, Cameron made a startled noise, and Sophie felt a twinge of guilt. She’d never told Cameron about her visit with Madame.
“Besides,” Chloe said. “What reason do I have to lie? There is no benefit in it for me if you leave. I am merely offering you a choice. One that I think will give you a greater chance of survival than remaining in Anglion. And a far greater chance to explore your magic. To learn what you may truly be capable of with no restrictions. But it is your choice. You may use my portal to merely leave Kingswell, or you can listen to me and I will start you on your way to Illvya. From there you can make your way to another place in the empire if you prefer. Though I think you may be better served if you remain in Illvya itself.”
Sophie turned to Cameron. “What do you want to do?”
His face was grim. “I think she’s right. I think if we stay in Anglion, they’ll find us. I want you to be safe.”
He reached for her hand. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Nor I you,” Sophie said. Her head was pounding, too, now, the throbbing keeping time with her hammering heart. Leave Anglion. Leave her family. All that she had ever known. She’d never imagined such a thing. But then, she’d never imagined that someone would try to kill her.
And she wanted to live. Wanted Cameron to live. She tightened her fingers around Cameron’s, fighting back fear and grief and confusion by holding on to that desire. “All right,” she said. “Illvya, it is. How do we get there?”
“All the way to Illvya? No. If I were found with a portal link to Illvya, I’d be dead in short measure,” Chloe said. “Not to mention if such things were simple to make, use, or maintain, Anglion would have been overrun by Illvya centuries ago. A portal trip of that distance . . . across an ocean. That would take more power than a thousand royal witches could produce.”
Fear rose more strongly within her. She hadn’t thought about that part. She’d just assumed that it would be a portal that would deliver them to where they needed to go.
“How, then?” she asked.
“This will be faster if you just listen and let me do the talking.” Chloe went to a row of cupboards standing against one of the walls and pulled the middle one open, taking out paper and ink.
She carried it back to the table, and then she began to tell them what they needed to do. Use the portals to get to a tiny village that Sophie had never heard of somewhere on the west coast. Find a particular beach near that village. Then summon a ship using a lamp that would be hidden on the beach itself.
“Who will be in the ship?” Sophie asked, unable to help herself.
“Smugglers,” Chloe said shortly. “Whoever sees the lamp first. The best of them is a man called Jensen. Did you bring money? Or jewels?”
Sophie nodded. “I have this.” She pulled the queen’s pearls out of the pouch at her waist, handed them to Chloe.
Chloe whistled softly. “Yes. Those will do.” She went back to the cupboard, then returned with a silver knife. Several swift strokes slashed the pearl string into pieces. Of all the things that had happened that night, that was the first thing that was even vaguely pleasing. Chloe separated some of the pearls from the string, so they rolled free on the table. She gathered them in her hand. “Offer whoever comes six of these. Go up to eight if you must. If he asks for more, then he’s trying to rob you. It might be better to wait and try again the next night if that happens, but that comes with its own risks.”