IN THE DAYS AFTER THEstrange surge of power from the main tower of the Crux, I gather statements from witnesses. From beyond the main tower, it looked as if the Crux had suddenly activated, like it did when Arlon raised the shields after the attack on the square. It had only lasted a moment, but it had startled Cancassi out of their sleep, had surprised the Royal Guard on duty so badly that he thought we were under siege.
Things have calmed in the aftermath, and even though the focus Arlon left for me has stopped flashing, unease still lingers in the back of my mind. I still can’t figure out what the spell does. I’m not sure if it reacted to the flash of energy from the Crux or was somehow the cause of it, but Bridgette seems just as baffled by the spell as I am.
“Gods, that’s fucking strong,” she says as she drops the marble onto the desk. It rolls across the surface before I snatch it up, raisingan eyebrow at her. She shakes her head and says, “Listen, I’m good at reading spells, but I don’t knowwhatthat is. Arlon’s energy is all over it, though.”
I commit to asking him about it the next time we get an update. In the meantime, I keep the mystery spell around my neck, even as I push the thought of it aside for now. Talking to Olbric shone a light on something I’ve been avoiding for far too long.
I find Marguerite in her room on the second floor of the divination tower. There’s no answer when I first knock, but on the second try, the door swings open. Margeurite’s eyes are tired, her hair mussed as if I’ve just woken her.
“Hey,” I say gently. “Do you have time to talk?”
Margeurite pushes the door open wider before she retreats back into her room. “I have nothing but time.”
I follow her in, closing the door behind me. Inside, her room is in disarray. Clothes litter her floor, her bed a haphazard pile of blankets as if she has been tossing and turning. Notes are scattered across the top of her desk, half-written missives, but as I spot my name on one, my pulse freezes.
Margeurite takes a seat on the edge of her bed before she sees where I’m looking. “This saves me the trouble of finishing my letter.” She takes a breath, steeling herself before her glassy eyes meet mine. “I want to leave the Crux.”
The words feel like plunging into cold water, shocking me to my core. This wasn’t the conversation I expected to be broaching.
“Mags...” I say, stunned. “You mean for a trip, or...”
She crosses her arms over her chest, eyes avoidant. “I mean for good.”
A million thoughts rush through my head. Guilt, concern, questions.Somany questions. I settle on, “Can I ask why?”
Her laugh is devoid of humor. “I can’t just sit here and wait for my heart to be broken again.”
“Mags...” I want to say something, anything that could be a comfort, but all we have are hopeful uncertainties. “Alliswillcome back.”
The silver bangle cuffing her horn tinkles gently as she shakes her head. “I want to believe that.”
I sit next to her on the bed, gently taking her hands in mine. She’s shaking like a leaf, and I hate seeing her so distraught. Hate knowing that I overlooked how badly she was hurting.
“Then stay until we know for certain,” I say gently. “The talkswillend. Alliswillcome home.”
Margeurite’s eyes spill over, and my heart breaks for her. “I-I haven’t been able to divine to her at all. With Dom gone, and you so busy, I just... feel so lost.”
Olbric’s words haunt me all over again.
You were busy.
Hearing them from Margeurite forces me to confront it. Margeurite, Allisande, and I spent every day together formonthsduring our trip out east. Yet in the time since, I’ve barely spoken to them. It’s a painful realization to know I’ve been too occupied to be a good friend recently.
“It just feels as if I’ve already lost her a second time,” Margeurite says.
“She’s not lost,” I say, my heart aching. “But I understand that this wait isagony. We’re all living with the fear and uncertainty of the talks, but you are feeling it more than any of us.”
Margeurite wipes the tears from her cheeks like she’s angry at them. “Allis had no hope when she left. She was certain that this trip was a death sentence.”
“King Thermilious has refused that demand,” I say and Margeurite’s head shoots up. I offer a small smile. “I received a sending from Arlon a few days ago.”
“What else did he say?”
“Luther Barclay has given a long list of demands that includes Allisande’s life, but King Thermilious has refused. Concessions are going to be made, but I don’t think Allis’ safety is likely to be one of them.”
Margeurite doesn’t seem comforted, and while I don’t want to speak too boldly, I want to put her fears about her lover at ease.
“Thermilious is already viewed as a weak king, Mags. He’s young, inexperienced, and he has no wife, no heir. He won’t allow himself to be denigrated even more by forfeiting his cousin’s life to Immenbach.”
