Page 184 of The Incendiary

He retreated to the corner of a room and hauled forward a massive tome. “My wards are the one thing his magic cannot pass through. We start with protection, so that you can continue warding when I cannot.”

When, not if.

“Why are the wards failing?” I pressed again. “Why are you weaker?”

He gave me nothing. All that could be heard was the bubbling of potions brewing on the wood stove in the corner. Maybe months ago, I would have stayed quiet and accepted what I was told, but not today.

Don’t let anyone leave you in the dark. Ask questions. Keep asking them until you get what you need.

I recited those words in my mind, in his voice.

“I will learn everything you wish to teach me, on one condition,” I stated boldly.

Simeon’s nostrils flared. He gestured for me to continue.

“I will ask questions, and you will answer. After every question, you get an hour of my time.”

“You will maybe get answers,” he corrected me, opening a book before us. “But you are welcome to ask your questions.”

I had hoped we would make progress today. That he would be more forthcoming with information and that I wouldn’t have to pry it out of him. Playing his game would have to suffice. “I go first.”

Simeon crossed his arms impatiently while I scrambled to come up with a question. Where to start?

“Why did you wait four hundred years to wake me up?” I spat out the first one that came to mind. “It doesn’t take that long to raise an army.”

Once more, Simeon gave me silence.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “You were waiting for him to move on, weren’t you? Hoping he’d… give up?”

Simeon’s eyes darted nervously in my direction. It was all the confirmation I needed.

“You wanted to outlast him.”

“I needed time to understand your abilities, Aryella.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You’re smart. Selfish, but smart. It wouldn’t have taken you that long. It didn’t. You let a whole continent suffer through centuries of bloodshed just to get your way.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?” I demanded. “If there’s some complex reason, don’t you think I deserve to know?”

“You do,” he agreed without hesitation. “But that was your one question, which I have answered. We now have an hour, and then you can ask another.”

I gritted my teeth together. This might require more patience than I was capable of. Thankfully, the basics of the magic in our bloodline was simple. Knowledge of spells—words in the language of the gods. We started with materialization. He had me put my hand on an object, whisper an incantation, make it disappear on one side of the room only to reappear on the other, much like he had with our notes but on a smaller scale.

“Close your eyes and visualize it,” he instructed, guiding my hand over a piece of fruit. “Focus on how it feels in your palm. The rind, the coolness and roundness of it. Then, say the word and let that feeling go. Envision where you want it to land.”

I lost track of how many times I tried and failed. Whispering foreign words to inanimate objects felt ridiculous, but after many failed attempts and fruit that wouldn’t just move, I succeeded.

“Now bring it back,” he ordered. “Reverse it.”

By the time I succeeded again, at least an hour had passed.

“Shouldn’t we move to warding, if that’s the priority?” I inquired, slumping down in a chair from exhaustion.

“Is that your question?” Simeon leaned against the table. The man protected the grimoire like it was his only child.

“I—no.”