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“Galon said Regner’s wards are impenetrable.”
Jamic nodded. “When Tronin gave the fae their amulets and Bretis gave the hybrids their hourglass, Faric gave us humans a mirror. Regner used the grimoire to tie his wards to the mirror, and just as the mirror casts back a reflection, Regner’s wards cast back any magic aimed his way.”
I could see where he was going with this. “If we destroyed the mirror, you think his personal wards would be destroyed too.”
“The priestess said she believes the fae and hybrids would have to cooperate to destroy the mirror.”
His cheeks had flushed again. Clearly, he held the priestess’s words in high regard. But was it because she knew what she was talking about, or because he wished to remove her blue robes?
I smirked. Either way, I would talk to Prisca about this.
“I need something from you,” Jamic said.
“Hmm?” I blinked, pulling my mind from everything I’d just learned.
“I’ll help you. With everything you need. But in return, you must do something for me.”
“Me, personally?”
“Yes.”
I eyed him. “What is it?”
“I can’t tell you yet.”
“When does this need to happen?”
“I can’t tell you that either.”
I turned, fully facing him. “And you think I’ll blindly agree?”
“I would never hurt you. You just saved my life.”
I studied his face. “You won’t help us without my agreement?”
His jaw clenched. “I will help only as much as I am forced. Prisca seems like a good person. She would feel badly if she had to force me to cooperate.”
And I’d thought he was innocent. Guileless. Inexperienced. He may have been locked up, may be desperate for freedom, but he had still seen nineteen winters. And he was still Kaliera’s son. I wouldn’t forget that again.
I sighed. “I won’t do anything to betray the others. Or anything that puts our plans at risk.”
His back stiffened, a flash of indignation flickering through his eyes. “I would never make you do that.”
“Fine.”
* * *
Lorian was gone when I woke up, groggy from my nap. Peeling myself off the bed, I suppressed the urge to climb beneath the covers, and I bathed instead, choosing one of the dresses Emara had insisted were for guests. A pretty pale blue, the gown was tight along my torso, falling to the ground in gentle folds.
I would have liked to check my reflection, but I’d ordered the mirrors to be removed from our rooms.
And reflection deceives…
A knock sounded on the door. Crossing the room, I opened it, expecting to find Madinia, perhaps Rythos or Galon. Instead, Emara smiled at me.
“I just wanted to check on you.” She scanned me. “That dress looks lovely on you.”
“Thank you.” I opened the door, and she strolled in.
