Page 131 of Reign

“The skin of a selkie,” she answered, without pausing her organizing.

“Why do you have that?”

“Selkies are neutral beings; they avoid war. I lost countless goblins and ogres in battle, so I wondered if these sea mammals might serve as strong allies.”

She paused her arranging to fix her gaze on me.

“Wolver abducted the Emperor of the Selkies’s daughter, stealing her sealskin and reverting her to human form. Without it, she could not return to her colony. Abandoned on the shallow shores of Cambas, she was deceived into believing that the commander of Lyonesse’s army had stolen her skin. I knew the selkies would sense her despair, swim to her aid, and discover that she’d been skinned. Though selkies favor pacifism, their very nature is vengeful—they fought my battles unwittingly.”

A shiver ran down my spine as Regina’s gaze remained steady. Her violet irises—intense beyond comprehension—burned into mine as if she expected praise. But I didn’t believe her actions were anything to boast about.

“Poor thing,” I murmured, recalling the distraught woman on the shoreline.

Once, I’d deemed her malevolent when she’d lured soldiers to their watery graves. Now, I pitied the person who’d truly believed the men on the beach had hidden the one thing she needed to return home.

“War’s cruel,” Regina stated, her voice stern.

I nodded. My time at Cambas had taught me there were no winners, only survivors.

“Here’s what I wanted to show you,” Regina said, blowing dust off the cover of a pocket-size book. “Greenhorn’s Grimoire.” She placed it before me. “Your abilities have been stifled by my brother’s oppressive rule, yet it is clear you are a naturally gifted witch. This grimoire contains spells—study its pages and learn the incantations. With dedication, by summer solstice you might rival Fitzroy in sorcery.”

“Thank you. I’m truly grateful,” I said, eager to delve into its contents.

Regina nodded graciously and walked over to the window, drawing back the heavy curtain to let sunlight flood the chamber.

“It’s raining in Lyonesse,” she observed, pointing toward thick, dark clouds gathering in the distance.

I left my spellbook on the table and joined her at the window.

“It nearly always is.” I sighed, watching the shimmering veil of rain stretch across the horizon. “The constant wetness makes every task feel twice as heavy.”

Regina raised her glowing palms to the sky, her hands outshining even the sun.

“Wolcn’of greeg, forscinan, gedlan oe opentian’th leoht’of dæy.” Clouds of gray, fade away, part to reveal the light of day, she intoned.

As she slowly lowered her hands, the rainfall ceased. Dense gray clouds parted to reveal a clear blue sky.

“It’s no mere coincidence that the weather over Lyonesse is unpredictable,” she said, lifting her hands again. “It serves as a constant reminder to my brother that I’m alive—and I remain a threat to his throne.”

Regina then intoned once more, “Feallen fram’he wolcn, heape niper belowan, wreon’he eorphan in a scurum’of snawes.” Fall from the clouds, head down below, cover the land in a flurry of snow.

Fluffy clouds—soft as cotton—drifted in on a gentle breeze, and the wind blew ice-cold as tiny snowflakes began to fall, blanketing the land in white.

“I could make it hot,” Regina mused, her lips curling into a menacing grin. “I could scorch Lyonesse, obliterating it all.”

“Sunne byrnan hatra ponna a wyrmes blæst, byrnan eall belowan oppæt pær pa nawiht ac deap.” Sun burn hotter than a dragon’s breath, burn all below till there is nothing but death, she chanted.

Abruptly, as the snowfall halted, the clouds evaporated under the glaring sun. I hesitated for a moment, expecting her to stop, but her piercing gaze never wavered from the kingdom in the distance.

Without a second thought, I raised my hands and countered, “Feallen fram’he wolcn, heape niper belowan, wreon’he eorphan in a scurum’of snawes.” Fall from the clouds, head down below, cover the land in a flurry of snow.

As the final word left my lips, white clouds reappeared, enveloping Lyonesse in a fresh blizzard.

“You learn remarkably quickly,” Regina observed, clearly impressed.

Her compliment relaxed my nerves.

“Emotion strengthens magic,” she added, her gaze shifting to me. “Love, hate, anger—even lust and desire—they amplify a spell’s power. That’s why my hexes against my brother’s army are so potent; every incantation I cast brims with raw hatred.”