The girl rose. “But you’ll stay, won’t you? We’ve been planning a ceremony of welcome for our new Tsarina. We’ve had it ready to go at a moment’s notice, for whenever you returned to us.”
Shujaa’s face appeared in my mind. If I lingered here, he’d might attack again. I needed to travel to Nyumbani and team up with Rowan. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll have to enjoy that another time.”
Petra’s eyes narrowed a fraction. That was her scheming look. “The Tsarina and I have much to discuss. As you can see, she is here and we are making plans. All is well. You must excuse us now.”
The Necromancers sped from the room. They couldn’t have moved faster if I’d placed a velocity spell on them. Within seconds, the mages were gone, the door was closed, and I was alone with Petra.
I’d just left one mob because they were trying to kill me. Now, I’d almost been caught by another one trying to make me into their leader. It was turning into quite a day.
Petra gestured toward the high-backed chair before her desk. “What brings you here?”
I sat down on the cold wooden seat. It felt familiar and somehow comforting. Memories sped through my mind—images of all the hours I’d spent in this chair before Petra’s desk, trying to figure out how to end my curse from Viktor. Those worries seemed centuries ago now. “Why did you call me their Tsarina?”
“It’s easiest until I find a suitable replacement.”
“But don’t you think—”
“If you question my judgment so much, you can come here and rule.”
She wasn’t wrong. “I’m being hunted by a Creation Caster and Changed One named Shujaa. He says he wants to kill me in order to become the Tsar.”
“So why not become the Tsarina? Surely, you’d be safe with thousands of loyal Necromancers around you.”
“Shujaa wields hybrid magick from Viktor. If I stayed here, I’d only put all of you at risk. The only way I can really take this warrior down is by working with Rowan.”
“How do you know for certain? Perhaps if you came here, this Shujaa would lose interest and never show his face again.”
I frowned. “You seem to know a lot about it.”
“Not at all.” Petra arched her right brow. “But I believe there is more to this situation than merely the threat of Shujaa.”
Leave it to Petra to suss out all my secrets in five minutes or less. “There’s also a Caster prophecy that may apply to Shujaa. It says that there will be a time of suffering for the Casters when their powerful mages will be taken away.”
“Viktor did that.”
“Yes. The prophecy goes on to say that family members will also disappear.”
Petra began tapping her desktop with her fingernail. “They call that Shadow Family.” Her voice took on the familiar lilt of her giving me a lesson. “The people of our continent, Ausdauer, are divided into those who have magick and those who don’t. Necromancers and Forgotten Ones. It’s not the same for the Creation Casters of Nyumbani. Everyone has magick, even if they can only cast a small spell or two. They all can sense each other in ways we can’t. Shadow Family is when someone’s gone, but you don’t know if they’re alive or dead. It’s very upsetting for the Casters involved.” She stopped her tapping. “What else did you learn?”
I tried not to frown, but it wasn’t easy. I hated this part of the prophecy. “It is said that a true King will rise to save the Caster people. Shujaa believes himself to be this true King.”
“Nonsense. He’s a Changed One, isn’t he?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“Let’s say I’ve heard a rumor or two about him. In any case, most Casters hate Viktor. Only a handful of the Changed Ones stayed loyal to Viktor after you sent him back into exile the second time.”
I shouldn’t have added this in, but I couldn’t help myself. “Rowan helped me send Viktor into exile. Twice.”
“And now Shujaa thinks he’s the rightful King.”
“Supposedly he’ll raise a golden army, just like the prophecy says. And as Shujaa becomes more powerful, Rowan will become sicker.”
Petra leaned back in her chair. “And now we come to the heart of the matter. This is why you wish to go to Nyumbani. How many times have I told you: good Necromancers avoid emotional entanglements?” Petra’s eyes narrowed the barest fraction. “You care for him.”
Now, Petra and I hadn’t discussed Rowan in any depth before. But knowing my Mother Superior, she’d have sussed out that he was important to me somehow. And no doubt, she’d taken it upon herself to become an expert in our relationship. Petra wanted me to rule the Necromancers as Tsarina. In her mind, that meant every detail of my life was her business.
There was no point lying to her. “Rowan and I have been on a number of adventures together. He saved my life many times. If the man is sick or an army is attacking him, then yes, I do want to help him.”
“So why come here today? You’re not asking for my counsel, are you?”
“No, I came here to inform you of my decision.” I gripped my hands in my lap to hide how they shook. “I’m going to Nyumbani.”
Petra stared at me for a long time. “If you must go, then there are things you must know.”
“About what?”
“Yes, I’ve had word of this situation from our Seers.”
“We have Seers again?” Viktor and his agent the Vicomte had killed off virtually every Necromancer. We hadn’t had a Seer in our number for years.
“If you’d shown any interest in your people, then you’d know this already. After all, you were the one who raised them from the dead.” Petra fiddled with some papers on her desk. If I didn’t know her better, I’d say she was acting guilty. “Based on their visions, you may go to Nyumbani, team with Genesis Rex, and kill this Shujaa.”
Seers. I still couldn’t believe it.
Suddenly, Petra’s unreadable features took on a darker meaning. I knew my old Mother Superior. If Seers were here, she’d have spent months hounding them for any scrap of insight in how to get what she wanted. And she wanted me as Tsarina. “What did they tell you, exactly?”
“That when this moment came and you insisted on leaving, that you should indeed go to Nyumbani.”
I slumped back in my chair. It had been quite a day, and my patience was through. “Don’t play games, Petra. I know you. There’s more to this than you’re telling me.”
“Sit up straight and mask your emotions.”
I wouldn’t be distracted from my point. “What else did the Seers tell you?”
“You won’t like it.”
“Tell me.”
“Genesis Rex is a liar who will say and do anything to win your heart and power. You must go, kill Shujaa, and come back to these lands as quickly as possible. Don’t count on anything but the most minimal help from this Rowan. Even if he wanted to, he’s too sick to share his power with you anymore.”
I sucked in a shaky breath. “What’s wrong with him?” Surely, the Seers had to be mistaken on this point. Rowan was always the picture of health.
“Why should you care? Your Rowan is deeply in love with his Amelia. He thinks nothing of you beyond how to use your magick to secure his own throne.”
My skin cooled over with shock. Petra had been my guiding star. She was the one person who’d helped me become a Grand Mistress. No one else would dare defy Viktor. Plus, after her years of Necromancer training, Petra shouldn’t even be able to lie to another Sister. “No, Mother. Rowan is fine. Something else is at work here.”
“There is.” Petra’s voice lowered with anger. “In a matter of months, you’ve destroyed years of your Necromancer training. Now, you’re being distracted by frivolous emotions that are not even returned. And to top off all this insanity, you are throwing away your gifts. Is this how I trained you?”
Her words cut into me like so many knives. When I spoke, my voice quavered. “Mother.”
“Enough of this foul emotional display. I thought you a far bet
ter mage and woman. Now leave my presence and do your duty as a Necromancer. Go to Nyumbani and kill Shujaa, but that is all you must do. Don’t believe anything else this Rowan has to say. He can’t be trusted.” She waved her hand. “Neither can you, apparently. If there’s any consolation, it’s that Rowan won’t live too long. Soon he’ll be dead, and you can move on from this madness. I hope you return to me as less of a disappointment.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Petra had been the image of patience and kindness for five years. She could be stern, certainly, but never anything like this. And saying Rowan would die soon? It was all a mistake. It had to be. I rose on shaky legs. “I’d better leave.”
Petra pulled a totem ring off her finger. “You can use this to transport. You look dead on your feet.”
“Thank you, Mother.” I picked up the band from her palm. The ring had been carved with the image of a skull. “You made this for me?”
“Of course. I’m not all emotionless cruelty, Elea. I’ve been worried about you and wish nothing more than to keep you safe. After all, you’re the closest thing I’ll ever have to a daughter.”
I could only stare in disbelief. In all the years I’d known Petra, those were the most open words of affection she’d ever offered. “You mean the same to me, Mother.”
“Then you’ll come back to us?”
I looked at her beloved and wrinkled face. Petra was only person who’d ever been a consistent source of love and support in my life.
“I won’t fail you, Mother.”
“Excellent. I would expect nothing less.”
I set the ring on my finger. Despite my vow, every mage sense I had told me that Petra was still hiding something. Still, this woman was the only family that I had left.
I’d never felt more confused in my life.
Chapter Seven
Transporting with someone else’s totem ring was a mixed experience. The good part was that I only had to speak one word—“transport”—and I could begin my magickal journey. Plus, since the spell was preloaded onto my ring from Petra, the trip wouldn’t drain me of any magick, either.
But the bad side? The spell still hurt. Terribly. I’d no sooner spoken the word “transport” than waves of darkness and pain enveloped me. I’d suffered before during transporter spells, but going to Nyumbani would be my longest journey ever, and as the Necromancer saying goes, “The farther the trip, the greater the pain.” Agony now shot through every pore of my body until I couldn’t remember a time before this all-consuming anguish.
Then it ended.
Bright light overwhelmed my vision. For a few seconds, all I could make out was a yellow and green haze around me. Heat seared against my skin. After all this time, I was still wearing my yellow dress, and the heavy silk quickly turned sticky with sweat. Once my eyes adjusted to the sunlight, I found myself standing in a garden. It was a round space framed by strange trees. They reminded me of a cross between a palm and weeping willow, but with wide red leaves that cascaded to the earth. Round plots of colorful flowers covered the ground: yellow, red, and green. Everything was planted into a swirling shape.
A road led out of the garden, across a moat, and ended at the entrance to a castle. In some ways, the structure was typical. The castle had multiple stories and turrets like the ones back home. However, this particular castle was made entirely of trees, stones, and moss. Four great silver trees stood at the four corners of the structure. Heavy branches sprouted out from the tops of these pillars, creating a framework for the building. The rest of the exterior was made from artistic swirls of stones, moss, and tiny white flowers. It was beautiful.
A presence closed in behind me. Turning around, I saw Rowan. He stood tall with a halo of sunshine gleaming through his brown hair.
Somehow I managed to speak. “Rowan.”
He gave me the barest of nods. “Elea.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Only a few minutes.”
“How did you know when I’d arrive?”
“My little Seer told me.”
“Oh right, the Seer. That’s good.” Rowan had mentioned how few magick users still remained among his people. It was good that at least one Seer remained. I scanned the gardens once more. We were alone.
Rowan gave me one of his crooked smiles. “If you’re wondering why no one else is here, I’ll let you in on a secret. I didn’t want to share your company.”
I tried to ignore how those words made me lightheaded. Petra said this man was a manipulator and a liar. And although Petra was acting strangely, I still needed to be cautious. I straightened my spine and focused on the task at hand. “I’m here because of Shujaa.”
Rowan nodded. “You kept your word. Thank you.”
“We need to kill him.”
Muscles tensed in Rowan’s throat. “Shujaa is a threat to my people and my rule. I need to handle it alone.”
I lifted my chin. “He wields magick from Viktor. If you really want to kill him, then you need my help.”
“There are ways around that totem armor of his. I already have a plan to defeat him. Please.” His gaze locked with mine. “I don’t want you placed at risk.”
A sense of warmth and comfort spread through my chest. My Zuchtlos nature loved how Rowan wanted to protect me. But the logical part of my Necromancer mind said that something still didn’t make sense here.
I shook my head. “What’s this plan of yours? If you want me to step aside, then I need to understand the full story.”
“The full story.” Rowan’s gaze turned intense. “I can do that.”
Once again, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Rowan really was ill. The thought made me shiver.
“I can tell you the full story,” continued Rowan. “But it’s an old tale. A story of Nyumbani. Would you like to hear it?”
With Rowan looking sick, I couldn’t refuse him anything. “Please.”
“The tale goes like this. Two birds once sat on a branch. One was a blackbird while the other was a white dove. Now, the blackbird couldn’t fly. Meanwhile, the dove could soar, only she’d never tried. You see, neither bird had ever left their shared branch.”
I frowned. “Then how did they eat?”
Rowan gave me a sly look. “It’s not that type of story.” A small grin rounded his full mouth. “Are you going to listen or make comments?”
“Both.”
Rowan chuckled. “Fair enough. Then one day, the dove asked the blackbird to fly away with her. Of course, the blackbird knew that the moment his dove took to the air, she might love flying so much that she’d never return. He also realized that if he confessed to being flightless, she’d never leave their branch. So the blackbird did a terrible thing. He told a lie. He asked his dove to fly away, and promised to follow along right afterwards. But the dove was rather clever.”
“I’m guessing she was brilliant.”
“And you would be right.” Rowan all-out laughed. I loved the deep and rolling sound of his voice. “At this point, the dove said to the blackbird: ‘What aren’t you telling me? I need to understand the full story.’ And the blackbird said: ‘I’m not telling you anything. I’m giving you a choice, and I need you to trust me.’ And so, the dove flew away.”
I hadn’t realized it, but I’d been hanging on Rowan’s every word. It really was a good story. “What happened next? Did the dove ever return?”
“It’s not that kind of story. It pretty much ends there.”
I rolled my eyes. This was an obvious sign of emotion, but I simply couldn’t help it. “That was the worst tale I’ve ever heard.” I set my fist on my hip. “And the moral is fairly obvious. I already asked you the same thing that the dove did. What aren’t you telling me?”
“And my answer will be the same as the blackbird’s. I’m not telling you anything. I’m giving you a choice.”
“So my knowing your plan for Shujaa is really you giving me a choice?”
“Yes. And I need you t
o trust me on that.”
An image appeared in my mind. Rowan and Amelia getting engaged as I looked on, stunned. “That’s not easy. Not after what’s happened between us.”
“I can explain.”
“You have a reason for your relationship with Amelia? I don’t believe it.”
“Yes, I do. The court is holding another engagement ceremony tomorrow night.”
“To you?” How many wives did he need?
“Not me. Please attend this event, and I swear, everything that happened with Amelia will make perfect sense. I could tell you, but I know you better than that. You’ll need to see this with your own eyes.”
“The first engagement ceremony I saw broke my heart.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “This is all very confusing.”
“I know. I want things to be different between us. You’ve no idea how much. Once this situation with Shujaa is truly over, then I’ll be able to tell you everything. Believe it.” Rowan stepped so close he loomed over me. I wished this particular movement of his wouldn’t make my willpower turn into jelly, but it always did. I needed to stop him before I did something stupid.
Correction. Before I did something more stupid. Simply talking to Rowan was probably a mistake.
Suddenly, the leaves of a nearby tree rustled suspiciously. Rowan turned toward the direction of the noise. “I know you’re out here, Jicho.”
A young boy’s voice sounded in reply. “Am I in trouble?”
I noticed how the child didn’t address Rowan as Your Majesty. This seemed odd—our Royals were very particular about their titles—but Casters were a rather informal bunch.
“You’re not in trouble,” explained Rowan. “Come down and say hello.”
There was the thud of someone jumping down. A second after, a boy stepped out from behind the curtain of red palm leaves. He looked about nine years old, with a shaved head and the sleeveless red robes of a Seer, the kind that draped across him to tie at his shoulder. Our Necromancer Seers wore this same style too, only in black.
Rowan turned to me. “Elea, I’d like you to meet Jax. He’s the little Seer I told you about before.”
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