I slammed the diary closed and quickly grabbed another. The same trend ensued. I could see the words, but not understand their meaning. If the diaries did contain any valuable secrets—they weren’t willing to give them up to me.Would that change after I attended the inauguration? Or would I never be deemed worthy of the island’s approval?How much more would it take…
For some reason, this setback was the final straw.
I sank to my knees in front of an old full-length mirror set up in the study. It was a true antique, its glass so cloudy it no longer functioned at all. Lately, I had picked up the habit of confessing my innermost thoughts, sitting meditatively in its presence. Maybe because it stood as one of the most prominent artifacts in the room, reaching an impressive height and ornately decorated, its solid gold frame embellished with metallic feathers. Or maybe, somehow, I believed I could pour all of my hurt and my loneliness into it and the mirror would be forced to take it all away, the fogged glass incapable of reflecting anything back.
A sob threatened to escape, and I shuddered to think about howutterly aloneI was now that Kaylin was gone. Despite all of my earlier self-restraint at the funeral, heavy tears began to stream down my face. All I could think about was how pointless my life now seemed. How utterly wasted, upholding a positionwhose purpose had faded with time, if it had ever really been meaningful to start.
“What if I am capable ofmore?” I asked the mirror in a soft, defiant whisper.
Taking me by surprise, a faint image began to materialize within the glass, casting away the haze. It was a man dressed in a resplendent, feathered cloak. My breath caught in my throat as the image sharpened and gained clarity. He was strikingly beautiful. The mirror’s metallic frame drew forth the warm golden undertones of his fair sun-kissed skin. His medium-length hair, wild and ruffled, was a lovely midnight-black shade, which accentuated his dark brown eyes. There was an intensity in his gaze, a gentle attentiveness, that captivated me.
I studied the image in the mirror.Must be the likeness of a previous Midnight Sovereign.While my impression was that most of my predecessors had been women, to my knowledge there were no restrictions on who could hold the position.
Instinctively, I reached out to touch the mirror, laying my palm gently against its surface, fingers slightly splayed. I blinked, and the image of the man disappeared. Here one moment, then gone the next. The mirror returned to its default state so quickly, glass foggy and opaque, that I could almost believe I had imagined the whole thing. I dug my fingers into my temples, letting out a loud sigh.Another mystery that I am too ignorant to understand.
Then, shaking off the self-criticism, I squared my shoulders. It was another mystery I didn’tyetunderstand. Someday, I intended to learn all of the island’s secrets. Uncover the truth of its history. There was nobody else I could rely on. If I were to be condemned to a life sentence alone on this island, I would settle for nothing less. Eventually, I would help people again.
If only I could figure out how to light those cursed lampposts…
CHAPTER TWO
Ineeded to leave the island. There was nothing for it—mundane means were simply not sufficient to light the lampposts. Candles extinguished immediately. Lamp oil stubbornly refused to burn. Each offering placed within was promptly rejected. It was time to search elsewhere; they demanded more. Perhaps a magical source of tinder or flame.
The island’s resources were limited. It spanned about ten acres and took about an hour to traverse lengthwise, but there was nothing new for me to find within its grounds. The study did contain a number of supposedly powerful artifacts, albeit dusty from ill-use, but nothing that intuitively suggested,Go ahead, light me on fire!However, I was certain the right material existedsomewherewithin the realm. If I traveled, I would find it eventually—across the breadth of the five kingdoms, anything was possible.
It was early morning—plenty of daylight available for exploration. I planned to start small. A short excursion out and back to learn the lay of the land. I had low expectations of finding anything useful on my trip, but convincing myself I had what it took to travel on my own seemed like a worthy enough goal for the day’s outing. I might not be well traveled, but fortunately, I wouldn’t have to complete my journey unguided. I rolled out an old sheet of parchment, covered in a detailed topography of the Kingdom of Adrasea, onto the study desk.
As it unfurled, a large cloud of dust kicked up into the air. I turned my face away from the map, waiting until the rest of thedust settled, overcome by a sudden coughing fit. When I could breathe normally again, I drew my attention back toward the parchment, running a finger across the ink and tracing the path I would follow.
The map was detailed enough that I should be able to find my way. They weren’t all so detailed. I could tell by the date and signature scrawled on the map’s lower left corner that it had been sketched by a cartographer named Nayeth. This changed down the line, because whoever created the newer maps in the study had taken much less care with them. Hadn’t even bothered to sign them. Not Nayeth though. She must have taken great pride in her work. I silently gave thanks for her past efforts, though I doubted she was still living.
Just a day trip.What could possibly go wrong?I reviewed my knowledge. Adrasea was ruled by Queen Isadora. The Witch Queen. She ruled over numerous coven communities, each adept at using the bounties of the land to work magic. I could add getting cursed or hexed to my list of worst-case scenarios for the day.Or something worse.Like a hostile witch turning me into stone right where I stood. Because every witch also possessed individual talents, gained from weaving a cloak of shadow. Unique powers. Unique ways for me to get myself into trouble.
Adrasea was still the best option for finding flammable, magical plant life. The kingdom got plenty of rainfall and was known for its extensive forests and wild gardens. The tonics and potions the witches created from the lush flora growing all around were a sought-after trade good within Olayra. Just like how the mountain ranges of Uvrakar produced valuable metals and gemstones. Or how proximity to the Baslan Ocean supported the fishing communities of Kothia. The evergreen fields and farmsteads of Solaris were responsible for their surplus food supply, perhaps one of the most valuablecommodities in the realm. Sivell was also forested, but the kingdom used its lumber primarily for scholarly pursuits, to produce the many books stored within its grandiose libraries.
I rummaged through the desk drawer until I found the coin purse I sought, pouring a few silver coins into my hand to confirm I had the correct currency. The metal was pleasantly cool to the touch. As expected, the coins were imprinted with a crescent moon design. Not so dissimilar from the moon iconography prevalent around the cottage.
Money would not be an obstacle if I stumbled across a solution to my problem and needed to barter—the coin purse was full. For now. The island’s coffers were plentiful but finite. Even so, Kaylin and I had done little to deplete them throughout the years. We grew our own food. Lived simply. Anything extra we’d ever needed, we’d been able to obtain from the village in exchange for our midwifery. Money didn’t concern me much. I wasn’t even sure where it had all come from in the first place. Just another ghostly echo of those who lived here before us. It would run out eventually…but for today’s adventure, I stashed a generous amount into my satchel.
I grabbed a long length of rope too, retrieved earlier from the garden shed.What else might be helpful?Several glass vials went into the satchel next, in case anything from the natural landscape caught my attention. I’d always had a keen eye for magic. Fae Sight. Another gift from my ancestors, whomever they were.
A cylindrical canister, crafted from sturdy red-brown leather, hung from a hook on the wall. It would be useful for transporting the map. I refolded the parchment and placed it within the canister’s long tube, slinging it across my back, carefully adjusting its positioning until the strap sat comfortably across my shoulder. Hesitating momentarily, I shoved a small daggerinto the sheath tied around my waist. “I need all the help I can get,” I told the antique mirror in the corner of the study.
My skill with a dagger was minimal at best. Fighting never came naturally to me. That hadn’t stopped Kaylin from insisting I learn how to defend myself. A few of the men living in Dewwick Village had formal training. Childbirth was a long process. While she worked as a midwife, at her behest, I had slipped away and begged them to teach me. Poor Rosemary Thorncrest labored an entire day to birth her baby. That was when I first learned how to wield a blade. At least some basic strikes.
Of course, I hadn’t spent all of my time convincing the local men to teach me how to fight. When I was younger, I would seek out the other children when we visited, eager to participate in their laughter and games. I’d grown quite close to another child, Agatha Somners, who’d become a favored friend and playmate, back when Kaylin took me into the village more often. As children, we would sit and braid each other’s hair after we were done running around. I’d often wondered what I would be like if I’d been allowed to grow up alongside the village children throughout the remainder of my adolescence.
But things had changed as I’d grown older. For one, the village women became more and more wary of letting me near their children.An orphan,they would whisper when they thought I couldn’t hear.Not claimed or protected by the Fae in her bloodline. Dangerous. Wild. The chance of offending someone powerful too great a risk.Because who could forget the story of Mary Fernbrook, whose full-blooded Fae grandfather claimed her late in life, promptly demanding recompense from anyone and everything that had ever committed the slightest transgression against her well-being. Kaylin had also changed, pressuring me more and more to stay on the island. Perhaps it was easier not to have me around while she was busy raising her real daughter…
“Ow!” I screeched as I bumped my shin against an old wooden chest lying in the middle of my path. It had always sat there, inconveniently placed, but too heavy to move. Normally, I remembered to avoid it. The study, with its assortment of magical artifacts and impressive collection of books, was my favorite place in the cottage and where I spent most of my childhood. The books on the shelf spanned all sorts of topics: history, warfare, politics, folklore, magic… I could navigate its twists and turns blindfolded. Except today, apparently.
I scowled at the chest, clutching my throbbing shin. Fresh inspiration tickled at the back of my mind. I had yet to try my newly acquired key, still heavy in my pocket, on the chest’s elaborate padlock. Crouching down, I slotted the key into the lock and twisted. No such luck; it failed to open. Another item to cross off the list—the key didn’t open the iron gate or the wooden chest. Brushing it aside, I stood back up and headed toward the study door.
It was time to depart.
My journey would require a boat. The lake surrounding the island was massive, but its waters were calm. I should be able to row to any of the five river inlets easily enough. Travel to any kingdom.
I exited the cottage and squinted as my eyes adjusted to the light; it was shaping up to be a beautiful autumn day, with clear blue skies overhead. Relieved, I headed down toward the shore. I found the boat—a small vessel made of polished black wood—safely secured to the dock.
