“What kind of tinctures do you think will be helpful in the battle?” Hal asked.
“I’ll show you,” I said, tugging him to a stop. A little rush went through me. I could give him the ability to see the world through my eyes. I could give him another little piece of myself. I’d never really shown him the smaller things of which I was capable. I’d spent so much time hiding, so much time fearful, that my power had been only a dark, blurry thing hanging over us. Not something useful or real.
“Show me what?” he asked, puzzled.
“Everything. Close your eyes.” I pulled out the little knife Eywin had lent me, dredging up memories of how I’d done this for Miriel. It was the spell we’d used most often—the one that gave her the ability to use my Sight.
I nicked my finger, then traced the symbol of the spirit god on Hal’s forehead, freeing a few tender threads of my magic. I opened myself to the Sight, letting my blood form a pathway from him to me.
“Look around,” I told him.
He opened his eyes and gasped.
The magic twisted like vines through every living object, rising through trees to meet the sky in cascades of light. It lived in the souls of the people of the castle, whom I could barely sense as more than moving pinpoints in the distance.
“This is incredible,” Hal murmured. “My Sight is nothing like this. Is this how you see the world all the time?”
“When I choose to.” I shrugged, but a little thrill ran through me just the same. I liked sharing this with him.
“Can’t you use this to help find the Fatestone?” he asked. “It’s like you can see anything.”
“Probably, if I knew what I was looking for.” I sighed. We were barely any closer to having clues about Atheon than when we’d arrived.
“So you think asking the king to speak to the shadow god is the only way to get more information?” Hal asked.
“It’s all I can think of. Nismae had access to the palace archives for years. If there had been any evidence pointing to the Fatestone’s location, she would have found it,” I said. Nismae was many things, but she wasn’t stupid.
“True. Nis was always very thorough in her research. It was more of an obsession for her than a job,” he said.
That was what I was afraid of. What other things had she figured out how to do with my blood since we’d last seen her?
We walked through the forest, Hal using his temporary Sight to more quickly find herbs, marveling at everything around us.
When dusk began to fall and Hal’s Sight began to fade, we turned back toward Corovja with full packs. I let my own Sight wander over the hills, hoping against reason that I might glimpse a clue that would lead me to Atheon. But the woods were quiet around us, and ahead, the city lay in a mess of magical life that I couldn’t even begin to untangle.
“That’s odd.” Hal stopped me as the trail we followed skirted the edge of a meadow.
“What?” I scanned the trees for signs of trouble, my hand already on the hilt of my knife.
“There’s something in the meadow,” Hal said.
He was right. A figure stood facing us from some distance. Even though she had somehow made herself invisible to my Sight, I would have recognized her broad shoulders, long braids, and heavy wrist cuffs anywhere. Nismae.
I gathered some magic from the forest, ready to put up a shield. Hal drew his knife. I followed suit with the small blade Eywin had given me to harvest herbs.
Beside Nismae, Ina gracefully rose from the swaying grass in dragon form. My chest tightened. She still stole my breath, but the reasons were different now.
Now I was afraid.
Now I was angry.
“Should we run?” Hal asked.
I shook my head. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t want something.
Hal and I stood our ground as the two of them approached. Nismae held up her hands to show she carried no weapons. Ina remained a dragon, fierce and radiant. I kept my knife raised, every muscle in my body prepared to fight.
“You’d better have an explanation for what you did,” Nismae said to Hal by way of greeting. “Asra.” She nodded at me, and I narrowed my eyes.
“First, promise me you won’t hurt Asra,” Hal shot back. “Then maybe I’ll explain.”
“I’m not promising you anything. Not when you broke your promise to me by taking her from me in the first place. Not when you gave Eywin the very thing I left Corovja to protect,” she said.
I stepped back, shocked. How did she know all this?
“First, you never told me what Eywin wanted. You never even told me he was part of the reason we left. I never wanted to turn my back on you, Nis. You know I never would have, but then you hurt Asra. You acted before taking the time to explain what you needed. You could have had us both on your side. You hurt me as much as you hurt her when you did that,” Hal said.
“She refused to join us,” Nismae stated.
Ina arched her neck in agreement. I met her serpentine eyes with a steely expression of my own.
“Just because I didn’t want to become a killer didn’t mean I wouldn’t have heard you out about what you wanted to do,” I said to both of them.
“We’re not here to fight.” Nismae sighed.
“Then what do you want?” I tightened my grip on my silver blade. I trusted her less than I would a poisonous snake. At least snakes were happy to leave people alone if you gave them a wide enough berth.
“I was informed that you’ve pledged your services to the king. We’re here to tell you what a mistake you’re making. Join us instead,” Nismae said.
The reach of her spies was truly staggering. The news was barely a day old and she already had it in hand. My skin crawled as I realized that meant she’d been right behind us on our journey to Corovja all along.
“What in the Sixth Hell makes you think I’d do that?” I asked. Nismae had never given me reason to trust her, and knowing what I did now, I had even less interest in joining their side of the fight.
“We’ll give you any position you want. You can help us rebuild the cities ravaged by bandits. You could open a school to train herbalists for villages that need them.” She’d clearly been coached by Ina, but her words had no effect on me.
Nismae ran a hand fondly along the dragon’s neck, but Ina’s expression remained unreadable, the moon reflecting eerily in her sapphire eyes.
A bubble of anger burst in me. “Or you could consider giving up this mad crusade against the king. He’s been nothing but kind since our arrival.”
Nismae snorted. “Because you gave him exactly what he wanted. You’ve only seen one side of him—the side he wants you to see. He only cares about himself and what benefits him. Try asking him for something you want and see how well that goes.”
I scowled. I wasn’t going to let her bully me into doubting my choices. I’d done what I had to. “No matter what you say, I’m on the side of this fight that will protect Zumorda. Have you even thought about what Ina taking the crown will do to the kingdom? The land? The gods? The demigods, including your brother?” The pitch of my voice increased until I was nearly shouting at her. “This battle could destroy all of Zumorda if Ina wins.”
Ina tilted her head at me and Nismae frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“If a challenger for the crown wins without the backing of a god, the geas between the monarch and the gods will be broken. All six of them will forsake us, tearing apart the magic that holds our kingdom together. It will destroy manifests. It will drain the life from our kingdom. Ina will have nothing left to rule.” I kept my shoulders squared even as fear rose. What would it feel like to have my magic ripped out of my body? Would those like Hal and me even survive it? Perhaps we’d become mortals without manifests, the lowest of the low.
Nismae’s face betrayed no reaction, leaving me unsure if we were telling her something she already knew. “I’m surprised you’re in favor of letting him continue to reign, given what he’s so intent on doing to those like you,” she said.