“I beg your pardon?”
“What happens if you have a real spool, and keep pulling?”
“It eventually runs out.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Master Carter. I’m not following. Are you insinuating that I would die?”
“Well, yes. The magic would tug so much of your soul away that you are left with nothing but a shell, a body. Your very self would be poured into your magic, and nothing would be left behind.”
I swallowed. “So…”
“So it’s very important you rest and don’t push yourself too far with these experiments. Hence why we have been practicing on sweaters and simple potions. Andnotthe plague.”
“But what if I want to try?” Asha. Her pale face. Her thin limbs and sunken eyes that still sparked with muted joy when I came into the room. “What if it’s worth the risk?”
Master Carter walked toward me and wrapped me in a hug. I nestled against his chest, against his soft, satin robes and his warmth.
“I want her to get better, too,” he said. “We all do.”
“Papa—” I choked on my words. “Papa would have given himself up to save her. Why shouldn’t I?”
“You don’t know that it would work. Not even our best healing mages have had success.” He pulled back and looked into my face. “And I’ve been hearing that a cure is almost finished. You must both remain strong.”
Thomas’s words from our time at the pond came to mind, of his mixed success, of the draining process of finding the cure, of healed frogs and hope.
I sniffled. “The cure might be too late. Besides, it will go to nobility first. These things always do.”
“It doesn’t have to,” Master Carter said. “If your presentationgoes well, you might be able to connect with someone who can save her. And I can write to Junira once more, and ask for the antidote in exchange for your attendance at their school.”
Although hope sparked within me, the memory of the weeks it took for letters to reach and return from our neighboring country, of the month left before I could even present my ideas, was a weight on my chest.
As optimistic as I would like to be, it was hard to ignore that Asha’s body was weak. Gina had lasted mere months. Asha had been sick since the fall and as spring rolled in, I feared it might be her last time to see the seasons transition.
If only Prince Thomas were back in Amouridia, if only I could convince him to try his cure on Asha…
Master Carter gave my shoulder a squeeze and returned to his desk.
And I remained lost in thoughts of a long-forgotten summer, when life seemed so much better, so much happier, only to be squashed by circumstances I still didn’t understand.
My stomach dropped, and nausea rose in me. My soul grasped for a golden thread—a new addition to my premonitions—and as the fingers in my mind closed around it, I saw danger once again.
A dark night. A little pond by the palace. Prince Thomas looking at the stars. A flash of dark green mage robes. And then I heard him scream.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
After our experiment with potion unmaking, I left Master Carter early. I wasn’t sure whether I should confide in him about my premonition concerning Thomas.
When my brief trance finished, the sight of my master hunched over his desk, scrawling notes in his floor-length mage robes like those from my vision, left me shaken.
A mage would do this to Prince Thomas, but who? Could I even trust Master Carter, with the level of influence he had in the Capitol?
Days passed with more experiments and more of me ignoring the secrets and fear swirling through my mind. After a week of reading and rereading a few of Thom’s letters, of pondering a cruel premonition and his written apologies, I still wasn’t sure what to do or how to feel.
I’d told myself I only wanted to see Thom again to ensure he received my warning. But was that the truth? Could my feelings be so simple after reading his letters?
After learning that I’d been wrong about him all this time?
