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Unsettled enough at the coincidence—or fate, as Asger kept grumbling—I could not sit still. Adira hunched over the pages with Cy and Gaina. I paced near the fire.
Never one to take much stock in fate, deity, or destiny—I rather liked to control my own life—the notion that Gaina, our only refuge in Magiaria happened to have a grimoire from the last house of curse breakers was too close to destiny for comfort.
“Some pages are being protected.” Asger tugged the grimoire toward him, flipping to different pages bespelled in a coating that looked like red gloss to shield the parchment from damage.
Gwyn tapped the shield, muttered a soft, “Blekna,” to remove any simple wards over the page and waited until the protective spell cast dissolved back into the parchment. “Venoms?”
Asger fluttered through the section, mouth pinched. “A particular venom is underlined. Basilisk.”
“Those exist?” Adira’s eyes went wide.
“Oh, they exist,” I grumbled. “Typically found in the Wildlands, but the venom, fangs, scales, the entire creature is quite valuable across realms.”
“The trouble with it is it’s toxic enough to bring down a mage army if not handled properly,” Asger said. “And it takes a unique sort of harvesting. Reasons our potions do not call for it often, if ever.”
More wards, more shields. Some pages were not of specific elements, more a section with a handwritten note found within:
blood of a sacrifice, salt of the land, tears of the elder tree, an elven bloom prepared with an elven blade.
“I wrote that,” Adira said after a moment.
My blood went cold. “What do you mean?”
“The writing that lists the ingredients”—she pointed to the back page where a full list had been arranged— “it’s in my hand, Kage.”
By the skies, I tired of this foggy past. I tired of not understanding. I tired of knowing the woman I planned to wed had shouldered a burden and been unable to share it with me a lifetime ago.
“No need to ask, but I will anyway,” Gwyn said gently. “You don’t recall any reason you’d write out this list, right? It’s as though you’ve arranged a spell cast, but I’ve never seen one with such intricacies.”
“A powerful script, to be sure,” Gaina said, thoughtful, almost like she, too, was attempting to unravel a shadowed past. “The venom itself would crystalize the others. Perhaps that is the purpose. For should it break, such a thing would embed deep into the soil, the very fabric of the land.”
Adira let out a short gasp. “The soul of Magiaria. It would run alongside the corruption in the soil.”
Gaina tipped her chin. “Might do, Sweet Iron. It might do precisely that.”
Adira shot to her feet and came to my side. “This is it, Kage. I know it. Ifeelit.”
I was not so certain. “Wildling, these ingredients would craft a deadly elixir. We do not have access to them, and there is no telling what it would do to the spell caster.”
Adira considered me for a moment before stepping closer so our bodies brushed. “Is fear talking, Thief?”
Fear was potent, a poison on my tongue, and it was suffocating. The thought of her, a curse breaker, composing such a spell terrified me to the marrow of my bones. All the elements needed were a risk, not only by their properties, but to gather them would require thieving and sneaking and likely risking our necks.
I held her gaze, unbending. “I will not watch you step into another position where it is your life or ours.”
Gaina cleared her throat. “Little Imp.”
“Yes, lovely.” Cy flashed his comforting, rakish grin.
“You lot, come help me with chopping some hare. We’ll have stew tonight.”
“Blue turnips?” Cy arched a brow.
Gaina swatted at his chest. “What do you take me for? Have a whole bushel in the back.”
A clear move to give Adira and me privacy to argue—not that there would be an argument since I would not bend if it came to her life again—and the others obliged.
When we were alone, I folded my arms over my chest. “Make your case for doing this. I assure you, I won’t be listening.”
