“The Crucible has already broken ground, Your Majesty,” I say with a small smile. “I hope that come opening night, you will accept my personal invitation and see that magic is capable of being so much more than a fickle weapon.”
The Queen gives a delicate huff of a laugh as she studies me. Finally, she waves a hand. “Fine. Set up your rotation. Lio is heading the Royal Guard while Thora is with my son. I will tell him to expect your wizards.”
I give another polite bow. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Was the Crux checking the shields the other day?” she asks as she flips the end tiles of her pattern face up. “There were reports of a flash from the main tower.”
Gods, it was visible even from here? I hide my surprise behind a placid smile. The Queen is already distrustful of magic, but I have a feeling keeping the truth from her would be foolish. We’re trying to rebuild the trust, after all.
“No, Your Majesty,” I say, reaching for the focus Arlon left me without thought. “I’m not sure what caused the flash, but I’m looking into it. The Crux is... a marvel. One I’m still becoming acquainted with as Grandmaster.”
The Queen doesn’t seem impressed by that, her lips pulling into a thin line as she hums. “Do tell me what you discover, then,” she says. “In the meantime, is there anything else you wished to share with me, Grandmaster?”
“No, Your Majesty, that was all. Unless you are looking for a partner to play with,” I say as I look over the exposed tiles.
The Queen’s laugh is genuine, and I’m glad that she seems to enjoy it when I surprise her. “I’m afraid I’ve already placed for a solo game,” she says before she raises a curious eyebrow at me. “Maybe next time.”
I take that as a dismissal and rise to my feet to bow. “Until then, Your Majesty.”
She waves over one of her guards, who lingers near the hedge. “Escort Grandmaster Galiva down to the traitor’s cell.”
The guard salutes with a murmured affirmation before he looks to me. “If you would come with me, Grandmaster?”
I follow the guard, but before we leave the courtyard, the Queen’s voice stops me. “I look forward to seeing what you turn up about the missing Tower wizards, Galiva. Soon, if you could.”
I turn and meet her gaze levelly as I give another bow. “We will do our best, Your Majesty.”
The trip down to the dungeons passes in a blur. I’m so preoccupied playing every piece of our conversation over in my head that I blink in surprise as my sister says, “I wondered when I would see you again.”
The last time we spoke was mere weeks after we arrived back from the Eastern Tower, when the heated negotiations between Straetham and Kenitka got underway. Only by virtue of being Arlon’s apprentice was I able to attend, and for three days, I watched my sister be interrogated by leaders from both kingdoms.
Witnessing it had been painful and humiliating, not to mention harrowing. At the lowest point of the negotiations between Queen Kaya and King Thermilious, I wondered if maybe my tenure at the Crux would end. Iona, Zoran, and I are the only Kenitkan subjects currently in residence at the Crux. But for a few days, there was a very real possibility that the alliance between Straetham and Kenitka would shatter, and we would all be ordered home.
All because of Demica.
Anger I don’t have a good place for swells as I look at her. Her cell is small and dim, but it’s clean and there are some books stacked by the bed, which is appointed with comfortable blankets. Those small kindnesses had only been given due to a plea from our mother,and witnessing the proud, stubborn woman who raised me fall to her knees in front of King Thermilious over such small comforts had shaken something in me.
“Frankly, I’d rather not be.”
“But you are, which means you need something from me,” Demica says, examining the frayed, unraveling end of one of her braids rather than looking at me. The nonchalance only makes my anger boil hotter. Even locked in a dungeon, she still clings to that smugness, that superiority she once used to reign over me.
“Twenty-three Tower wizards were attacked on their journey to the Crux,” I say. “Reneta was among them.”
Demica’s head shoots up. “And?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “If you’re asking if they’re alright, we don’t know. They were accosted north of Belingrad by unknown assailants. Luther Barclay is denying any involvement.” Demica gets to her feet, pacing the short length of her cell, but when she doesn’t say anything, I ask, “Do you have any idea where they might have been taken?”
“I have ideas.” She turns to me, her lips pulled into a stern line. “But I want something from you in return.”
I’d been feeling so confident after my talk with the Queen, but stepping back in my sister’s shadow seems to erase it all.
“You know what? Shame on me, honestly,” I snap. “You already fucked the Tower wizards over once, so why should I be surprised you’d rather use them as leverage than help them?”
I turn to leave, but I make it all of two steps before Demica calls out, “Gal, wait.”
I don’t want to turn around. Whatever information she can give isn’t worth making more deals with her. But out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand thrust through the bars of her cell, a small pendant dangling from her grip.
No, not a pendant. A woven loop of brown hair. A divining trinket.
