Water creatures and land creatures rarely mated. Nia’s mother had died giving birth to her because she’d been forced to do it near the surface to make sure Nia survived. And to keep her away from her father’s people, Eirwen had taken Nia far away, to a no man’s land between Wilderheim and its western neighbor Ravetia, where she would never hear anyone speak of magic or Otherlands.
Nia remembered little of her time there. Only that they’d traveled from village to village for years until Eirwen had been too old to go any farther. By the time Nia’s magic flared in her sleep and took Eirwen’s life, Nia had been on the border of King Manfred’s realm, and she’d made it all the way to Frastmir on her own, only to be found by Nico.
Saeran caught her hand in his and held on, his presence warming her cold insides.
You were brought here for a reason, the dragon said. Do not fear it, there is no need.
The water sprite tilted her head to hear another’s voice. She blinked and sent her greetings through Nia. The dragon responded with assurances that she was relieved of her burden. He would look after the pair from now on. The sprite nodded and looked at Nia again. What might have been a smile transformed her face for a moment, before she twirled around and changed into water, splashing back into the creek.
Had it not been for Saeran’s arms coming around her, Nia would have fallen to the ground.
CHAPTER 34
Nia spent the next day in her chambers. Not of her own will. She had yet to sleep a wizard’s sleep since the healing she’d channeled for Saeran and Mari, and the summons of the water sprite had undone what progress she’d made.
She thought about her father. If he’d ever been around, even at a distance, would she have sensed him? Nia couldn’t remember if she ever had. She couldn’t even be sure of what he was. His antlers told her little. He could be a wood sprite, an animal spirit, or anything in between or beyond. Far too many creatures dwelled in this world to know them all, especially when most never revealed themselves to humans.
The only thing she was now certain of was that she was not human. That was what Nico had seen in her the day he’d caught her stealing bread from the castle kitchens. That was why the Others let her see them—she was one of them. An Other at the right hand of a human king.
Or as human as a dragon’s descendant could be.
Nia chuckled. What a pair they made, Halflings governing a human realm, and no one the wiser. But Wilderheim had always been a kingdom of Others as much as humans, and if Nico could have done it, she could do no less than prove worthy of his faith in her ability to do the same.
Nico. She sighed. There was another mystery. Her mentor had served three generations of kings, prolonging his life as much as his human body would allow. Toward the end, Nia had felt the toll it had taken on him. Through practice and sheer force of will, Nico’s essence had grown to make up for his withering body. For her sake he’d waited longer than was wise, but now, at least, Nia knew what had happened to him.
For all his power, Nico had been human. With age and wisdom, his soul had begun to outgrow its vessel, dissolving it completely as soon as Nia had taken his place. No one had seen her mentor since then because his bodily form no longer existed but, as with the pockets of magic he’d left behind in his study, his soul was still whole.
By her estimates, Nico had been nearly a hundred years old when he’d disappeared. What did that mean for Nia? How long would she walk this world? The thought of centuries passing her by, everyone she knew growing old and dying while she endured unchanging filled her with sadness.
The ancient ones grow weary of life after a while, the dragon told her. Some have been known to go mad without an anchor to the world.
An anchor like a loved one, Nia guessed.
The dragon didn’t answer. He didn’t have to; he’d given her his memories.
A sudden shiver ran down her spine. There were shadows in her chamber that ought not be there. Her senses sharpened, her Sight shifted, and she could see that the darkness had mass. “Show yourself,” she said, feeding what little magic she had into the command.
The sharp laughter she’d heard in the gardens the day before cut through the air again, severing the spell mid-stream as if it were a piece of string. “You dare command a god, Halfling?” said a voice from the darkness. It was like nothing she’d ever heard before. “The audacity of it is…intriguing.”
“Who are you?”
“Cannot say,” he said easily. “I can be many things or nothing at all.” His tone turned conspiratorial as the dark shadow floated closer to her. “I choose to be nothing, you see, because nothing is allowed to interfere.”
Nia smiled a quick, sharp smirk. “I know you.”
“I expected nothing less.”
“Why are you here?”
“To spy.”
“And what have you discovered?”
He chuckled, the shadow quivering to mirror the sound. The more she heard him, the less his voice bothered her. “What kind of spy would I be to divulge all my secrets?”
“But they are not your secrets. They are mine. Hence there is no harm in telling me.” She enjoyed verbal sparring and sensed that he, too, was reluctant to abandon this little amusement. As the dragon had said, the ancient ones grew weary of life.
“A secret is only a secret so long as it remains hidden. A secret, once uncovered, is nothing more than gossip. Boring. I do not waste my time with such things.”
“I thought gods had nothing but time.”
“Yet we still know how to make better use of it than you who have so little. Humans.” There was a sound, like a hiss, and then he breathed, “Ah, but you are not so insignificant as that, are you, Halfling?”
Nia adopted as innocent an expression as she could, struggling not to laugh. “I am no more significant than a shadow in a dark chamber.”
“And we both know what monsters those shadows hide.”
“A monster is only a monster so long as it is fearsome. A monster, once accepted, is nothing more than an oddity. Do you think me odd?”
Another chuckle, and with it, the shadow drew back, fading until she almost thought it would reveal its owner. “Most definitely odd. In the way a flame is, enclosed in a watery cocoon. Oddly strange and unnatural. Especially when the flame can reach out and bite the unwary sorcerer.”
“And what of the cool watery well within a fortress of fire?”
“Stranger still,” he groused. “A strange world indeed it is we find ourselves in, where the well protects the fire and the fire nurtures the well. You weaken yourself needlessly with your sentimental spells. The balance keeps tipping, the clock is ticking, and the sorcerer is not tripping over his own feet the way you are. It spoils my fun.”
“Sage advice,” she said dryly.
The shadow rushed her, and a face emerged so close to her that all she could see was a pair of opaque black eyes in a grayish pale face, with coppery hair to frame them. “Have a care, Halfling. Your infinite protectors will not be around forever, and I can make your existence quite unpleasant if I choose to.”
Nia nodded in wordless ascent, not trusting herself to speak. She kept respectfully docile, but would not drop her gaze from the Trickster’s. He smiled at that, though it never reached his eyes. Empty eyes, he had. Empty and endless, dark and dangerous. “I have not met one such as you. Even the sorcerer quivers at the sight of me. Yet here you are, with little over a score of years to you, looking at me as nothing but another…oddity.”
“Why are you here?” she asked again, softly.
The Trickster’s thin mouth contorted. “The amulet is flawed beyond repair. It will not heed my call, and any magic used on it is sucked in to warp it further. The jest goes too far, and I cannot involve myself beyond this point. I risk much by simply being here, conversing with you, Halfling.”
“Are you asking for my help?” Nia strove hard to conceal her surprise, but it showed regardless.
“Much as I loath to,” t
he Trickster replied. “Rid this world of the thing, and in return I shall tell you where to find your sire.”
Nia’s breath left her. “Why should I trust you? I could be walking into a death trap.”
“You will be,” he said. “But if it will ease your weary mind, I vow on Woden’s lifeblood that I will keep to our bargain. And if you do as I say, and precisely as I say, then all will end as it should.”
“And how is it that all this should end?”
“With the amulet gone, its evil destroyed and me beyond suspicion.”
How like a god to see only his own ends. “What will happen to this kingdom and its people?”
“They are not my concern, hence they will not be affected.”
“And me?”
“You have little enough to lose, and even less to fear. Is your life so full that you fear leaving it behind?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
The Trickster studied her for a moment, and what he found seemed to unsettle him, but he regained his composure quickly. “Then you might yet survive the trials to come.”
CHAPTER 35
The music began well before sunset. Though she couldn’t see it from Nico’s study, Nia knew there were people on the castle green already singing and dancing to their hearts’ delight. Nia didn’t share in their revelry. Her mind was burdened with weighty thoughts, her soul weary of this weakness.
The Trickster’s plan troubled her. She’d sensed no falsehood from him, but having never spoken to a god before, Nia couldn’t be certain of anything. Whether he spoke the truth, or whether he chose to change his mind didn’t matter. What he asked of her would endanger not only her life tonight but everyone else’s as well.
For the third time since noon, Nia made a circle with her hand to trace one in light. Just as with her last two tries, the circle blazed white hot and then cleared in the center to show gray mist. The future remained hidden, veiled by some force or another, though she had an idea about whom to blame. It wouldn’t amuse the great Trickster to have her know precisely how to play this grand game of his.
Frustrated, Nia swiped her hand to dissolve the circle and then brushed her hair back, clutching it in her fists until the tension snapped a few strands. I may lose this game, she thought, something akin to fear coiling in her belly, tying her into knots.
She pushed to her feet slowly and made certain everything was in order. The books and scrolls were all arranged on their shelves, no parchment out of place. The table was clean, a single candlestick gracing its center. The pitcher and chalices stood on a tray in the corner, covered by an old piece of cloth so as not to gather dust. She’d asked the servants to take the bed and all her personal belongings out and back to the chamber she ought to be sleeping in. Nothing more remained here except all the knowledge Nico had gathered over his very long life. And if she never returned, the one burning candle would stay lit to guard it all until someone worthy of it came to claim this place. Forever, if need be.
Nia ran her hand over the grooves of the table, tracing a pattern. She would miss this place. This library was her sanctuary and training ground. The stone was scarred in places, marked by spells gone awry, the domed ceiling black with ash and soot from countless days and nights spent down here by nothing but the light of a hundred candles.
Every chink and groove had a story to tell, and the pockets of magic Nico had left behind shone bright from within, without shining at all. They held his essence like a page in history, proof that he had walked these halls and left an impression on an entire kingdom. There would be more such pockets here, and everywhere in the castle within the hour—hers.
With a few whispered words, Nia sealed the library nook so no one but the king would know it was ever there. A small smile pulled on the corner of her mouth to remember the very first time she’d worked the spell. She’d sealed herself inside that small space with what should have been an illusion. Bitter sweet memories of the past. She had to remember them; remind herself she still had much to live for.
Her mask this eve was a simple one made of leather and dyed to resemble tree bark. It would cover her face so only her mouth and chin would show. She tied it in place and gathered all the charms she’d made the day before. One of them attached to the top of the mask, another hung on a chain at her breast. She put on bracelets wreathed with night blooming flowers and rings made of water reeds and magic. Two more stone charms would fit into small pockets in the seam of her cloak and there was a protection spell written on the sole of each of her shoes, as well as on her staff. It wouldn’t be enough, but it was all she could have.
She couldn’t make such protections for any of the people present tonight. If the sorcerer suspected anything, the entire game would shift and not in Nia’s favor. All she could do was hope that he would be intent on her and no one else.
That was her hope and prayer.
Nia searched the shadows for movement. She hadn’t seen any Others in a while. “If you are here, I ask that you grant me one wish. Keep those present from harm. You need not involve yourselves with the sorcerer, but all those people filling the castle tonight are innocent. They will be helpless against him. Please…” She sighed. It was no use to beg someone who wasn’t there.
Her cloak and staff waited for her by the door. With one last look around, she clasped the cloak around her neck and lifted the hood to hide her hair. The wolf skin pulled tighter around her back and she grasped her staff. She would need it in a moment or two, just to climb the stairs.
Nia hesitated only a moment before she closed her eyes and envisioned the core of her magic. In her mind’s eye, it was a glittering ball of bright light. Slowly, carefully, she melted that ball into the consistency of smoke and let it seep out of her body, shivering at the heat it created. For a moment, her mortal shell glowed like a star in the night as tendrils of brilliant magic curled up and around her, filling the air with sparks like fireflies.
She directed them with her mind to coat the walls of the study and seep into the stone. Once the chamber was saturated with as much as it could hold, Nia sent her power up through the castle, filling strategic places where it would shield the most people from any attack. The king’s bedchambers, his study, the great hall, the kitchens and the stables soaked up her magic eagerly.
There wasn’t much left by the time she was certain the castle would be safe. Whatever else she could spare without killing herself she gave to the earth to ensure bountiful harvests for years to come.
Drained, tired and weak, she whispered a prayer for luck and left the study, locking the door behind her. Going up the stairs took a while with her knees aching and protesting the strain, but she climbed on until at last she reached the castle green. After locking the second door as well, she made her way to the bonfire to begin the procession up to the gods’ altar.
“What’s the matter?” Saeran asked, grasping her elbow through her cloak as soon as he caught up with her. His dragon pendant would allow him to see past the illusions she’d woven the night before because it had been made by her and recognized her spells. To all others, Nia looked to be clad in a gown of brilliant green, with autumn leaves and wheat in her hair. She would wear a mask of bronze and bells and chimes would trail in her wake.
“All is in order, my liege,” she said. She hadn’t told him anything about the Trickster’s visit, or his plans for this night. Until it was absolutely necessary, she saw no reason to worry the king. Should something happen to her, Nia had made sure he would be well protected within the walls of his castle. It would have to be enough.
“You do not lie well, wizard,” he retorted, aware of the nobles following close behind. Though the music and drumming concealed their conversation, Nia was proud of her student for being careful with his words. “I sensed the magic you sent out. It was too much, especially now when you are so weak. What are you up to?”
“I fulfill my duty to you and your kingdom, Majesty.”
“Not at the cost of your wellbein
g!” he whispered furiously.
The emotion in his voice gave Nia pause, and she stopped in her tracks to look at him. His eyes were like blue flames, glowing in the night. If anyone saw, he would forever lose a vital advantage. For now, no one knew of his dragonblood, or his aptitude for magic. It was an essential piece of information to keep secret from his enemies, in case he ever had need of it in battle.
Saeran’s chest rose and fell with harsh breaths, and his fists were clenched at his sides. This was not good. “Majesty,” she said, trying to sound reasonable, “My life was forfeit to your rule the day I made my vow to you and you accepted my place at your side.”
Saeran didn’t look pleased to have this pointed out to him. He urged her on again. “Keep going before the others notice we have stopped.”
“What is the matter with you?” she whispered to him. “Are you regretting your decision now?”
“Father was right,” Saeran said, keeping his voice low. “I was not ready to see the wisdom in his doubt back then. Not until it was too late. Had I understood…I never would have allowed you to put yourself in danger to protect me. Not when it should be the king’s duty to protect those who serve him; a man’s duty to protect those he loves.”
“Now you are being silly,” Nia told him, but her voice was not as steady as she wanted it to be.
“I know you are up to something,” he said, without looking at her. “I know it will be big and, knowing you, probably very dangerous. And I know I cannot stop you.” It didn’t seem to occur to him that he was walking by her side, when he ought to be following her. In this and all processions, the wizard became the embodiment of a god or goddess, and it was symbolic for everyone, even the king, to follow. Nia knew that a handful of nobles and a couple of advisors had already noticed, though they had said nothing yet.
They were almost at the altar. “You can trust that whatever I do will be for the good of the kingdom.”
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