“Everything all right?” he asked, shining light into the room.
Rune sighed, pulling her toes toward her and hugging her knees to her chest.
“I need a spell to break the one protecting Analise and Elowyn,” she said, glancing to the spellmarks on the pages before her. “But it’s not in any of these books.”
Perhaps she could create such a spell. She’d done it before.Ghost Walkerwas her invention.
But it took me months to get that casting right.
She didn’t have months.
Hopefully Cressida’s preservation spell had weakened enough for them to destroy the bodies without interference—that’s why the witch queen was traveling to the Crossroads. The fading magic made her sisters’ corpses vulnerable.
And if not…
We could take them with us to destroy later.
The idea of kidnapping corpses made her feel ill. But Rune would do whatever was necessary to strike a blow against Cressida.
Antonio entered the room and lowered himself to the floor beside her, sitting cross-legged inside her ring of candles. Thesmell of sugar and cinnamon came with him, likely fused to his hair and clothes from a day spent with Bess in the kitchens.
He opened a spell book. As he leaned over it, studying the marks on its pages, a tiny medallion swung out from beneath his collar, catching the light. Etched in its surface was a spectacled woman with an owl perched on her shoulder.
Wisdom.
The Ancient.
“Is that who you were consecrated to?” asked Rune, reaching to touch the silver oval dangling in the air. It was no bigger than the pad of her thumb.
Seeing what she meant, Antonio tugged the loop of cord over his head, and handed her the medallion. “Wisdom. Yes.”
Studying the face impressed into the silver, Rune remembered the spell she’d come across while gathering spell books in her casting room: a spell for summoning an Ancient.
Absently, she said, “You don’t think it’s really possible to summon one, do you?”
Antonio went quiet. “Queen Althea did.”
She glanced up into his face. “You believe that?”
It was from the stories Nan used to tell her as a child: Wisdom was Queen Althea’s closest advisor, and this was why Cascadia flourished for decades under her rule.
“It’s a fact,” he said, taking back the cord and medallion and pulling it over his head. “Near the end of Althea’s reign, shifting loyalties resulted in strong support for her cousin, Winoa Roseblood. Althea refused to enforce what Winoa and her followers believed to be true: that given the lack of magic in their blood, non-witches were subservient to witches. But Winoa’s propaganda had already infected the court, and a plot to dethrone Althea was gaining traction.”
Rune had never been given this history lesson. She listened with rapt attention.
“Althea called on the Ancients to advise her,” Antonio continued. “This was centuries after the Resurrection Wars, when the Seven Sisters had sworn never again to intervene in mortal affairs. But Wisdom took pity on Althea and allowed herself to be summoned.
“Althea wanted to denounce Winoa’s dangerous ideology, declare her a traitor to Cascadia, strip her of her titles, and exile her. This, Wisdom knew, would lead to a civil war that would tear the country apart and leave many dead. She advised Althea to call a council, one that would draw Winoa’s supporters and their idea of witch supremacy out of the darkness, bringing it into the light, where everyone could see it for what it was: a heresy.”
Rune frowned. “Did it work?”
He shook his head. “No. Winoa, with the backing of Althea’s advisors, betrayed her cousin in the very chamber where Althea hoped to root out her court’s corruption. Instead of a council, there was a slaughter: Althea and her supporters were stabbed to death, and from their blood, Winoa forged a new rule—the Roseblood Dynasty—ushering in a reign of tyranny and bloodshed that would last for decades.”
The candle flames flickered as Antonio fell silent. Rune stared at him, stunned.
This was not in any of the stories Nan had told her. Though Rune could understand why: it would have given her nightmares.
“And Wisdom just let it happen?”
