I stood in the bay watching the shore of Canto. The icy pool enveloped my near naked body and wisps of air escaped my lips.
Warm…warm…warm…
I’d said it repeatedly for the past ten minutes in my mind, but my body knew better. Getting my Powers under control was more urgent than ever. Since accepting Zavier’s proposal over a month ago, I’d had too many close calls that could have revealed my illegal magic.
A stiff wind made ripples on the surface of the water.
Warm…hot…scalding…
My fingers told the real story, turning blue and losing feeling—along with the rest of me. It would have been so easy to give in to the feeling and float away. No more worries about Mythos discovering my magic. Or the royal house. Or Zavier. I wouldn’t be indebted to the hidden market anymore.
Warm…hot…fire!
Nothing was working. My breathing was ragged, and I imagined small ice crystals forming on the inside of my body. The chattering of my teeth made my jaw ache. It made the reality of my situation sink in. I didn’t have the luxury to turn my back on my responsibility to my Powers, my family or to Canto. I redoubled my efforts.
Warm…cold…ice…really cold…I’m so fu…
“Time to get out,” said a voice, rich and female. I bit back a response while the towing of my body through the icy waters felt like a thousand knife points piercing my skin. It was a relief when I reached solid ground and hot breath tried to thaw my hands through excruciating pain. I looked up to see the pink and purple swirls of the Mist House overhead.
“I don’t understand. She’s done it before,” said Viktor Lake. Her voice was once again disguised as male. Her hood was up, covering her silver-white hair and obscuring her sex. I was sure neither Rowley or my mother knew Viktor Lake was a woman and I’d yet to learn why she insisted on the ruse. It was only because of the magic in her home that she could continue the deception.
Shivering on her floor, I envied her disguise, if only for the added warmth. As if reading my mind, Mamá threw a blanket over me. She had flawless skin, but even now I saw the beginnings of the lines that would etch her face. Lines I’d caused, no doubt.
“She was fighting for her life then. Deep down she knows we’re here and we’ll save her,” barked Rowley. I knew he was right.
His response was harsh, and each word was tinged with impatience. My progress had stalled. In past attempts at getting me to feel warmth in the frigid water, he’d cast a warmth spell over me afterward. This time he didn’t bother. His one cloudy eye softened the hint of reproach in the other. His black fur shimmered in the mystical light of Viktor’s home.
“Are you suggesting we leave her and hope she won’t die?” asked Mamá, her words clipped and precise. Her hands chafed mine through the blanket. It was both an agony and a balm. Mamá said she came to these sessions to help, but I wondered if it was really to protect me from Rowley and Viktor’s expectations. Her jaw tightened when Viktor draped a coat over my shoulders.
“Perhaps we should—” Viktor began.
“Perhaps you should just leave her alone!” yelled Mamá.
“Do you know the kind of fire I had to put out, Filomena?” snapped Rowley. Few people talked to my mother the way Rowley did. Although she never expected the deference due to her by her right as a duchess, at that moment she loomed over Rowley like he was a peasant.
“I can-can h-h-hear you,” I said, feeling left out of the conversation. My three teachers were clustered around me, their truce slowly breaking down. They were talking about me again like I wasn’t even there. Just a vessel. I understood their panic because I shared it. The fire Rowley had put out had been a literal fire I’d started in my home with my erratic magic. The memory of it was humiliating and beyond frightening.
My chattering eased and I pushed myself up to a sitting position. I looked to Rowley, knowing he would agree to my demand.
“Again,” I said. Rowley nodded.
“Nena, no. It’s starting to snow. You need food and some rest,” said Mamá. The snow drifted down in front of the entryway to the Mist House. It gathered close enough that it looked lit up by the swirling lights. It was a beautiful reminder that there would always be a reason to put off practicing my erratic magic. This Power was given to me by generations of my family, hoping that I would return magic to the Enchanted Isles.
So far all my magic had done was kill a queen from Faerie, trap a man in a shell and start a fire in my home. It had done good things, too, but rarely on purpose. I had to learn to control my magic before I destroyed anything or anyone else.
“No, she’s right Inez. We’ll start practice again tomorrow,” said Rowley grudgingly. Viktor was conspicuously silent. She had helped me convince Mamá and Rowley that I had to speed up my progress and had suggested the water test. The bay in winter was just short of freezing and my will to shut out the cold was supposed to trigger my Powers. So far that approach had been a dismal failure.
“Yes, tomorrow,” said Viktor without making eye contact. I felt her disappointment in me as keenly as I felt the cold that had seeped into every pore. I couldn’t argue with all three of them and gave a short nod before standing up. Dry clothes were waiting on a nearby stool and despite my fumbling frigid fingers, I refused any help. I may not have been able to will myself warm, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to be dressed like a baby.
I heard their hushed squabbling and started to feel like half the problem I faced was keeping my teachers from bickering amongst themselves. A flare of heat went through me and just as quickly retreated. Rowley’s head turned and I knew he was scenting the air for magic. Annoyed, and frankly frightened what that would lead to, I stalked off to the woods.
The woods were a haven for me.
They asked nothing of me other than to tread lightly and even that was more of a suggestion. I’d walked its secret pathways since I joined the hidden market. Searching for enchanted eggs filled with wild magic to sell while avoiding the long arm of the King’s Men was my only test.
That was until my inherent magic awoke and it was revealed that I was the Ternion, the one person who would bring magic back to Canto and all the Enchanted Isles. Rowley, Viktor and even my mother believed in the prophesy and it was the only point they all agreed on although how to prepare me for it was still up for debate.
My smuggling of enchanted eggs might have ended but being back in the woods where I’d plied my trade for so long was a comfort. After the Egalitarian Ball and becoming Zavier’s intended, I thought my days working for the hidden market were at an end. And they were…except for the deal I’d made with Áliz, the feared Jabberwocky.
It was risky for me to be seen connecting with her or any other market activity. At least in the open. Ever since the Jabberwocky had changed my role in the market from smuggler to spy, I’d had to resist the small pockets of magic tugging at my own coming from the contraband eggs. The enchanted eggs were ripe for the plucking and more lucrative than ever since the season was coming to an end.
The lloras that laid the eggs full of wild magic had already gone underground for their seasonal hibernation. They wouldn’t emerge until mid-spring and who knew what I’d be doing by then.
So much had already changed since discovering my inherent magic and the burdensome destiny attached to it. By now I knew I was less likely to cause irreparable damage this deep in the forest if I had a sudden burst of Power. No one would notice a few singed trees in all this wilderness. Anyway, I felt closer to my grandmother, Lita when I walked the forest paths.
It was funny I still thought of her as Lita when her real name was Sabrina. My young and inexperienced tongue couldn’t produce the word Abuelita clearly and Lita she remained. I smiled at the memory. She and my grandfather, Beval, searched for plants to bring back to her herbal room until he died and then I walked with her. We had many deep conversations about my future on those walks.
And yet she had kept my magic a secret, just as Mamá had done.
My future was just as uncertain now as it had been when I fretted about not inheriting the family title. I hadn’t known then, I had an even bigger title to inherit, that of the Ternion, the person who would return magic to all of the Enchanted Isles. But the prophesy hadn’t said how I would achieve that lofty goal.
Getting my own magic back had been easy—if dangerous. I suspected getting everyone’s magic back would still be dangerous and far from easy. I also suspected it would involve an inordinate amount of destruction. Who would I hurt and who would I lose along the way?
These were not the questions I’d been able to pose to Lita. She’d always said I’d find my purpose and I had, but it was a lonely realization that my purpose was safeguarding illegal Powers with little guidance and a very real threat of exposure. Even I didn’t know if revealing my Powers would lead to imprisonment, exile or worse. Lita would have understood. Then again, who was to say that she would understand me any more than the other people in my life? Would she have been cautious like Mamá, guarded like Viktor or impatient like Rowley?
I continued to trudge through the damp leaves, weaving through the dense growth of trees.
The chill in the air matched my self-pitying mood. But I wasn’t so lost in thought that I missed the signs of someone approaching. The steps were light and the gait distinctive. Without turning around I remarked, “You’re losing your touch, Jacque. Is money making you sloppy?” His inheritance was still new, but Jacque always moved like a thief.
“Is being a princess making you slow? You should have picked me up fifty steps ago,” he said, a smirk in his voice.
I had a momentary scare. What if he’d watched my practice at the bay? He’d be yet another person who knew about my illegal Powers. No, I did hear him approaching—his comment was just to goad me.
“I’m far from a princess. Taking a stroll?” I asked.
Jacque fell in step next to me as the path cleared. He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows at my clothes. I was wearing a riding suit and not my normal smuggler garb. Since becoming the official girlfriend of the heir apparent I had to marginally look the part. What I was wearing was better than what Queen Hortensia had originally insisted on, full court dress.
Mamá had acquiesced for a time before realizing how impractical fancy clothes were with my magic practice. I offered no explanation to Jacque other than to mutter, “Royals,” and after a few moments Jacque shrugged.
“Speaking of royals—the Empress would like a word,” he said.
“And how does she propose I do that?” I asked. “I’ve been barred from the hidden market to keep the KM—the King’s Men—away.”
“About that—there’s a secret I’ve been keeping,” said Jacque.
“Join the club. What is it?”
“I have to show you.” Jacque led me to his old house. Since coming into an inheritance from Delaware Humphrey, he’d bought a place closer to the more fashionable part of town.
“Why are we here?” I asked. In response he opened the door and sitting in an ornate chair was the Jabberwocky.
