A memory stirs – something I’d read before. ‘Crystal weakens Magi, doesn’t it?’
‘That is correct.’
‘So what did they do to her? To Syla?’
The old man’s gaze shackles me to the spot. ‘They used her. After all, what greater weapon could there be than power itself?’
There’s a long, drawn-out silence in which I wait for my heart rate to return to normal. It was foolish, humouring him like this. The old man is clearly senile. That, or he’s playing a game with me. Either way, I’ve grown tired of his company.
I get to my feet. ‘That was quite the story.’
‘It was indeed, and all the best stories are true.’
I roll my eyes. The tale is undoubtedly a fabrication. Does he really expect me to believe that such talismans existed, or that the former emperor had – what? Apet Mage? It’s perfectly ridiculous. For starters, how could such thingspossibly be kept secret, and not just then, but for all these years since? It doesn’t make any sense.
I nod once at the old man, brisk and dismissive. ‘Goodnight.’
But as I turn on my heel and walk away, I hear Grandmother’s words in my head, the warning she gave us on the morning of the eclipse.
Old magic still lurks within the Golden Palace.
The old man chuckles to himself.
‘Sweet dreams,’ he calls as I round the corner.
Part II
THE EYES
27
Iwalk across a desert plain, the hot sand undulating beneath my feet. Something gold glimmers up ahead. I can feel it, a second heartbeat thrumming with untold power. It urges me onwards, reeling me in until I’m standing right in front of it. I see it clearly now. And it sees me. For lying at my feet is a beautiful golden eye.
Blaze.
If I dared, I could reach out and touch it.
I sit bolt upright, heart thundering. I’m disorientated at first, then last night comes flooding back to me. The old man, the story, the sisters, the Eyes.
The Eyes.
I push back the sheets and draw my knees up to my chest. Beside me, Renly gives a little grunt of protest.
That glimmer of gold in my dream – was it an Eye all along? Or have the old man’s words just got into my head? I screw up my face, trying to make sense of it.
As my breathing slows, logic returns. This is stupid. It was only a dream. They don’t mean anything. And why should I take the word of a senile old man? No doubt he would have rattled off that very same tale to anyone who would listen.I imagine he has nothing better to do. Besides, I have more important things to worry about – like the second trial, which is in only thirteen days’ time.
Just as before, the Heirs have been given no idea of what to expect. But now, with more training and three water gifts under my belt, at least if I lose, it’ll be with some dignity. And the Heirs are expected to attend the Binding Ceremony, meaning I can stay here, at the palace, close to Flint, to my friends, to Hal.
‘Blaze?’ Renly gives a yawn.
I look down at him, soothed by his presence. ‘Yes?’
‘I’m hungry.’
‘You’re always hungry,’ I say, tickling him.
An hour later, as I walk across the palace grounds towards the Keep, I realize something. Tomorrow is Renly’s Name Day. I’ve been so preoccupied lately that I almost forgot.
