Fox angles his head. ‘Are you worried we won’t find the missing Eye?’
‘Yes,’ I admit, glancing at him. ‘But I’m also worried about what’ll happen if we do.’
I recall Syla’s face, the pain that seemed to rip her apart from inside out as she made her choice. I understood then, more than ever before, that power is a burden as well as a gift. And wielding power itself is a burden almost too great to fathom.
A heavy silence smothers us until Fox says, ‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’
His shrewdness is disarming.
‘You know the old woman you met in Zafar?’ I ask. ‘The one who told you about the Eyes?’
He nods.
I swallow hard as a memory surfaces – a boy bound in crystal chains, imprisoned in the cell next to Syla’s. I did not know him, but he knew me.
S’ai nova sempara, Voya Ishraki.
I will remember this, Storm Weaver.
Despite the heat of the day, I shiver.
I clear my throat. ‘If the Magi were truly stripped of their magic, then how do some still retain it? I know you have a theory. I want you to tell me what it is.’
‘Is that an order, Your Majesty?’
I glare at him.
Fox rakes a hand through his hair, then exhales. ‘So, it’s like this,’ he says. ‘We know Syla’s spell worked. The Etheri won the War of the Empires, and the powers of the Magi were sealed inside the Eye of the Soul. Only sometimes, with enchantments that powerful, it seems a lack ofspecificitycan lead to a … loophole.’
I frown. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘Bear with me, all right? Think of the Noble Houses. Take your family, for instance. House Harglade prides itself on being pureblood. Generations of Ignitia, descended from Vesta herself. Though of course not everyone cares about that sort of thing. You’ll find that most people tend to marry for love rather thanancestral purity.’ He doesn’t bother to disguise the derision in his tone. ‘Intermarriage between Etheri with different gifts isn’t discouraged. But what is discouraged, forbidden even, is intermarriage between us and … others. If an Etheri were to marry a Fidra, for example, they would be accused of diluting their bloodline. They’d be branded a blood-traitor. An outcast.’
‘Go on,’ I say slowly, failing to see his point.
‘For centuries, Etheri and Magi were estranged. Or so we thought.’
I shake my head. ‘I’m not following.’
Fox traces patterns across the tree bark. ‘Over the years, there’ve been cases – very rare cases – of children born half Etheri, half Magi.’
My mouth tips open. I stare at him, wordless.
‘Children born to those children would then bepartEtheri, part Magi, and so on, forever tainting a bloodline,’ he continues. ‘Generations of Etheri could be descended from one single Mage, and vice versa. The point is –’ he takes a breath, as though steeling himself – ‘my grandfather told Syla to strip the Magi of their magic. He didn’t tell her to take away the powers of anyone with Magi blood.’
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. ‘So … so what you’re saying is … these people, they’re Magi, but notfullMagi? They’re descended from Etheri, directly or distantly … and that’s why they were able to retain their magic when Syla cast her spell?’
Fox inclines his head. ‘Like I said – a loophole.’
‘But … if somebody is EtheriandMagi, then what does that make them?’
‘Both,’ he says. ‘They’re called Demari. Many will have been hiding their whole lives, even before the war. Others may not know the truth about who they really are.’
‘And they’re able to wield the gifts of both Etheri and Magi?’ I ask slowly.
‘Some, yes. For others, the gift they inherit seems to depend on the dominant bloodline. Except mixing Etheri and Magi blood can have … consequences.’
‘Meaning?’
