ISIAH
“S
o what we thought was true? Niethal intends to use Grace to bring down the borders and open Anaeris?”Thom says from his seat at the foot of my bed.
“It would seem so. He also brought up the relics, so it’s safe to say those are involved. He did not, however, elaborate on the ritual she would need to perform to lift the blood magic. But if what we read is correct, we’ll have to get her out of here soon,” I say as I pace the small length of my room, unable to sit still after the meeting.
“We won’t let her be a sacrifice to his cause, Isiah,” Corren says from where he leans against the wall.
I told them everything that happened in the meeting, including how Grace and I spoke silently, mind to mind.
Though we aren’t actively speaking now, I can sense her. But I don’t want to intrude, so the next time we are together, we can figure out how it works.
“Grace learning to control her magic isn’t the worst thing. It gives us time to plan to get her out.” Mikal pushes back the curtains, and as he looks out the window to the courtyard below, a wide grin spreads across his face. “Do you think I’ll find myself someone to mind-speak with too? It was this window, right?”
I walk over and shove him, and he chuckles as he crosses the room to sit on the foot of my bed next to Thom.
“Would your father know what’s between you two?” Liam questions from his chair. “Are you going to ask him?”
If only I could count on my father to be more paternal, but he is who he is. “I’m not sure I want him knowing this—not yet, at least. I want to understand it before I give him any leverage over me. He would use it to his advantage; of that, I am sure.”
When I was a child, he caught me trying to clean up one of my mother’s antique necklaces I’d broken. He only looked at me and walked away. I was terrified he would tell my mother for days, but he never did. Weeks passed, and he never spoke a word. Then one day, he asked me to do something for him, and when I refused, he reminded me how disappointed my mother would be to hear about her necklace. He blackmailed me at the ripe age of eight. That was the first of many times I learned I could not trust my father with my secrets.
“I’ll find someone else to ask,” I say as I smooth a hand through my hair. “Well, we aren’t due at dinner until six, and it’s only three now. Anyone up for a little exploring? Niethal said we were free to roam the grounds, and since we are supposed to be spying, we can search his lands, see if he’s been hiding anything treacherous out in the woods.”
Their faces perk up.
“Yes,please. I’m sick of these castle walls,” Mikal says as he jumps to his feet.
I grab my riding leathers. “All right, Liam, Corren, go ready the horses. Mikal, Thom, and I will make a quick stop at the library to see if we can find anything about Grace’s and my connection and maps of Selen’s lands.”
I head to the washroom to change out of my court clothes and into my leathers. They’re worn, molding to me like a second skin, and as soon as they are on, I’m instantly at ease.
“Don’t want to muddy your fancy clothes, prince?” Corren jests when I return.
A swift punch to his arm quiets him as I stride towards the door, and I grin as he grabs it in feigned distress. “We’ll meet you and Liam at the stables in twenty.”
Mikal, Thom, and I make our way to the library on the main floor. I’m not getting my hopes up that there will be any books about Grace and my connection here, but it won’t hurt to check. At least finding a map of Selen lands should be easy.
We pass several servants who eye us suspiciously. I’m sure they’re marking our movements and reporting back to Niethal. Nothing we do here will go unreported.
The library is near the end of the main hallway, past the ballroom and dining hall, and just before a smaller set of stairs that descend deeper into the castle. But before turning into it, a faint warmth pulses where Grace lies in my mind. “That’s new,” I murmur, sensing her nearby.
Thom and Mikal give me a puzzled look, but I shake my head. I don’t trust the walls here not to have ears.
As we step inside the library, the familiar scent of books washes over me, woody with a hint of vanilla. Row after row of books line the walls. Some bookcases are so tall you need a ladder to reach the top shelves.
A male sits at a desk in the center of the room, reading an ancient leather-bound book. His face still has a youthful cast, but a handful of wrinkles surround his eyes. We don’t age as humans do. We never become frail, but time wears lightly on us. That he has wrinkles is proof of how ancient he is.
“How may I help you, Prince Isiah?” he says without looking up from his book.
My feet stop mid-stride as I stare at him. “You know me?”
“No, I do not know you, but I know your father. You resemble him more than your mother.” He finally looks at me and frowns. “A shame he did not come. I would have liked to speak with Rikard one last time.” The male pushes a strand of long platinum hair behind an ear, giving a better view of his eyes—so light blue they’re nearly white.
I shift on my feet. “Yes, my father regrets he could not come himself. There were other matters that required his presence.” The half-truth slides off my tongue—the other matters being drinking his whiskey and moving his pawns—but the way the ancient male squints makes me believe he may know my father better than I thought. “Since you already know my name, what shall I call you? I’ll let my father know you asked after him.”
The ancient male continues squinting at me, deep in thought. “You may call me Atarric. Wise words from an old wise male?”