“Relax,” he said, bringing my hand closer to his face for inspection. “It’s healing nicely, but it’s only been a few days. You need to rest more.”
I pulled my hand back. “How can I rest when I have another challenge? I almost lost.”
Edan cleared his throat. “The emperor did a fine job of extending the trial. Very noble of him, though I wouldn’t have expected anything less.” I caught the slightest tinge of sarcasm in Edan’s voice. “He said you remind him a little of himself.”
I turned back to my work, but curiosity bade me ask, “How so?”
“A young man trying hard to succeed. No one ever expected Khanujin to become king, you know. He had to learn much in a short time. Just like you…He didn’t want to dismiss you just yet.” When I didn’t respond, Edan shielded his face from the sun and said, “Do you always work outside?”
“Only to sketch. I find it inspiring.”
He looked over my shoulder at my drawing. “A water-themed dress?”
“It’s inspired by home.” I sighed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Norbu is going to win.”
“Oh?” Edan feigned ignorance. “Because his designs are best?”
A needle of envy pricked me. “Yes. He’s a master tailor. The greatest in A’landi.”
“Heisa master tailor,” Edan allowed, “but so are you. Given a month on each of these challenges, I’m sure you both could work miracles. But not in a week. Not without help, anyway.” He exhaled. “Don’t you remember what I told you?”
“You said Norbu is using magic. But how?”
“Norbu has paint that creates illusions,” Edan revealed. “Very elementary stuff. It only lasts a few hours. A day or two at most. Until now, he’s been careful to survive each challenge, not to win.”
It made sense now. That was why Norbu never had anything to show until the day of the challenge. Why he was always so secretive about his work. Why he’d wanted his jacket burned.
“Magic is a wild, untamed energy that exists all around us,” Edan explained, “and certain people are more sensitive to it than others. We enchanters wear talismans that allow us to channel it, and on rare occasions, we enchant everyday objects, such as your scissors, to help us with our work, or to enable others temporary access to magic.”
My brows knitted in confusion. Edan wore no rings or amulets, as Emperor Khanujin did. “I don’t see a talisman on you.”
“The answer to that would give you too much power over me,” Edan said with a smile. “Now, don’t scrunch up your face like that. You’ll get wrinkles.”
He waited until I let go of my frown. “Iwould need no magic paint to create an illusion, whereas an ordinary person such as Norbu would. He’d have to give something up, say a thimble or two of blood, every time he wants to use it. Must have cost him a fortune to obtain.”
“How come no one else can tell that his designs are illusions?”
“Oh, he’s a fine tailor on his own, so he uses magic sparingly. But I can see it well enough, and borrowed magic can always be undone.” Edan tapped his chin with his knuckles, looking pensive. “I suspect you could expose him with a bucket of water—since he’s using paint, after all.”
“I’ve used magic too,” I reminded him quietly. It made me uncomfortable to remember.
“So you have.” He leaned close. “But your scissors aren’tborrowedmagic.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t pay in blood.” A dimple formed on the left corner of his mouth. “That means a little bit of magic sings in you.”
I didn’t know where my grandmother’s scissors came from, or whether Baba had known they were magic. “It was so easy,” I whispered. “Using the scissors…The shawl I made looked like my own work. But it wasn’t. Not really. I don’t know if I should feel proud or ashamed or—”
The dimple disappeared. “Feel lucky,” said Edan. “Your scissors chose to speak to you. It is a gift, one you may need.” His voice turned soft. “One that can go away if you are no longer worthy of its power.”
The sadness in Edan’s words struck a chord in me and made me wonder if he thought of his own magic as a gift. Why had I ever distrusted him? He’d always been my ally here in the palace. He’d always believed in me.
And Lady Sarnai had asked me to betray him.
“You’re quiet,” Edan noted. “Does what I say bother you?”
“No, it’s not that.” I shifted my stance. The pebble in my shoe hurt more than ever.
