He frowned. “Why not? Did you not come here by some way of your mother’s?”
“It was a mistake. There’s no way back now.” She thumbed the shard around her neck. “That’s why I’m here. Callista sent me to find the king. Only he can send me home.”
The Magician’s eyes widened. “You met the Silver Sorceress?” Then he stilled as the rest of her words sank in. “You seek King Caradoc?”
“He’s the only one who can help me.”
“Then you are a fool,” he spat. “The Tyrant will not see you. To him, you are nothing but a peasant girl from a strange land, who has no part in the plots of kings. Unless, of course, you tell him what you are. In which case, he will kill you.”
“What else can I do?” she said, tugging the ends of her hair in frustration. “Stay here forever?”
“Your mother liked this world a great deal more than her own,” he replied. “Perhaps you will too.”
“I amnotmy mother,” Thia spat.
Lord Sagan’s voice rose to match her irritation. “Flee south. To House Murk Lily. Or north, if you prefer the cold. The Nutherlunds have never been truly conquered. The king’s hold is weaker there.”
Thia shook her head. “I have to see him,” she said wearily. “Not just for me. For Oskaren and Dess too.”
The Magician’s brow furrowed. “What of them?”
“The king stole Oskaren’s heart. She cannot love, and I made a promise to her mother to do what I could. And Dess…” Sweet, boyish Dess who deserved the truth. “The king stole his memories. We are going to get them back.”
Instead of appearing convinced at her reasoning, her compassion, the Magician was, if anything, paler. “In search of a Heart, a Soul, and a Mind,” he breathed. “There can be no doubt now. The Heart and the Mind are in play.”
“And the Soul?” Thia asked, thinking warily of her third traveling companion.
“Perhaps your home—what you seek. Perhaps something that has not yet become clear. You must flee,” he insisted. “Flee.”
The candle was flickering. And, though it was hard to tell in the dim light, it might have been turning green.
“Lord Sagan,” she exhaled, jutting her chin at the candle. “Get it together.”
He saw what she did and blanched. Then he shut his eyes, forcing gulps of air, one after the other, his hands clutching his knees. When he was calm, he gave her a harrowed look. “One day he will get the truth from me. I will fight for as long as I can. But you should run, while the opportunity is upon you.” He rubbed his temples. “What can I do to convince you?”
He didn’t understand why she was willing to get home or die trying. But to Thia, if she couldn’t get home, she might aswelldie trying.
He surveyed her. “I see that there is nothing.”
“I have to go home,” she whispered. For Grammy, who had lied, yes. But who loved her and didn’t deserve to grieve her, like they had grieved everyone else in their lives, because of Melina’s choices. To Riley, who was like a brother to her, when the king had killed the one she might have had.
The Magician sighed, appearing somehow another hundred years older than his already ancient frame. “Then I will do what I can. I cannot leave this castle without asking the king’s permission. But I will give you provisions for whatever journey you might make, and I will pray it takes you far away.”
She gave a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”
“The witch Xercae circles this castle, waiting for you.” His expression was harsh, and Thia swallowed. In the news of her mother, she had nearly forgotten. “She will leave to hunt at dawn, for witches cannot last long without the flesh of living creatures to sustain them. You must go then, and watch the skies, as she will attack from above.” He stood, lifting the candle, then paused. “Tell me one thing, daughter of Melina.”
She raised a questioning brow.
“Tell me you throw away your life because your home means more to you than it, not because you are afraid of whatever part you might play here.”
“I don’t belong here,” she told him, honestly.
His smile was more devastation than sympathy. “You’re wrong about that.”
FIFTEEN
THEY DEPARTED AT DAWN. ASLORDSAGAN PREDICTED, XERCAE DISAPPEAREDwith the new light, and Thia was awakened by a hand on her arm, flurried whispers telling her to hasten. Now she was at the castle’s rampart, Mavrel perched on her shoulder, his feathered head pressed against her as though sensing her anxiety.
