“I let the alchemists back into the Guild last week. I didn’t have much of a choice—we won’t make it long in this war without their elixirs. But I’m not leaving them on their own this time. They’re under guard, but I intend to go and see for myself today that they’re doing exactly what I asked and nothing more.”
“And you want me to what? Spy?”
“I seem to remember you having a gift for getting around in the shadows unseen. I want to be sure there’s nothing they’re hiding from me. But I understand if you’d rather not go back there, after what happened the last time.”
When Zara kidnapped me and held me in a cellar so she could drain my blood to use against Ronan. “But that wasn’t even in the Guild proper. And Zara is dead.” At Ronan’s hand. “Did she really tell you we were shadowbound?”
Ronan nods. “She said it had something to do with how our magic affected each other.”
“Like last night.” I stroke my chin, thinking. “Maybe she wasn’t the only one in the Guild who knew about it.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I’m not afraid of the alchemists. They weren’t exactly fearsome fighters from what Quinn told me, and even Zara hadn’t truly wanted to hurt anyone; she’d just felt cornered once Ronan began getting close to her scheme to end his rule.
And if there’s a chance they have an answer for what’s going on with our magic, it’s worth finding out.
Because something about last night has left me feeling unsettled. Maybe it was just the lack of control, or maybe it was the strange, shared dream we had, but it feels like somethinghas changed. Our magic has always seemed connected; I’ve felt the pull of his on me since we met, and although he hasn’t questioned it as much as I have, I know he feels the same.
It doesn’t change the way I feel about him, but I’d like to understand it. What it means, how to control it. Maybe it truly is the extraordinary power that Seth thinks it is.
Maybe it’s the key to winning the war. “Lead the way. I’ll be your shadow.”
“Sylvie,” Ronan says with affection, his face lighting up. “Was that a terrible joke?”
“Maybe.” I dart my eyes to the side coyly.
“A very good effort. ‘Light’ the way was right there, though. Six out of ten. Good, but not groan-worthy.”
“I’ll give you something to groan about in a minute,” I say, throwing my pillow at him.
“There you go again, threatening me with a good time.”
The white towers and golden dome of the Alchemists’ Guild rise in the morning mist as we climb the hill along the riverbank in the royal carriage.
The Guild is near enough to the palace that we could have walked, but Ronan insists that coming in the carriage will set the right tone, reminding the Guild members of his power and authority.
They do seem suitably terrified of him as they greet him on the lustrous steps, bowing deeply in their brown robes, their Guild medallions hanging from their necks like garrotes.
“Your majesty,” says a tall woman with white hair. Her medallion is different from the others—the swirling etchedpattern is enclosed in a sun-shaped ring. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“I remember you,” says Ronan. “You’re the one who helped me wake Taran.” He gestures back to his guard, having given Taran a much-needed break from babysitting my terrible brother.
“Thank you, ma’am,” says Taran with a bow.
“Of course. Happy to be of help. Warden Hypatia of House Santori, acting Guild Mistress.” She bows again.
House Santori. I recognize that name. It takes me a minute to place it, but then I remember. Linus of House Santori was my competitor in the archery tournament. He was the one who was killed.
From what I heard during the aftermath, House Santori is one of the most loyal houses to House Alta, Ronan’s Royal House. I have no doubt Hypatia was chosen for that very reason.
“Of course,” says Ronan. “Cyrus told me who the Guild had selected. I just didn’t realize it was you. Thank you for your help. It came at a very critical time.”
“So I’ve heard,” says Hypatia, looking at me. “I’m afraid I must apologize to you on behalf of the entire Guild, Sylvara. I had no knowledge of the secret work Zara was conducting or what it entailed. I assure you, if I had, I would have found a way to stop it.”
Her expression is sincere enough, but although I typically correct my name, I decide to let her use “Sylvara.” I think of what Ronan said about projecting power and authority. Perhaps I should keep my nickname for the people closest to me.
“I appreciate that,” I say to Hypatia without elaboration.
