Page 24
“Are you not joining us, Sire?” Torvo asked.
Father laughed, but it sounded hallow as it bounced off the stone walls around us. “I have other matters to attend to. I shall greet our visitors at tonight’s dinner in your honor. I assume you can handle things until then?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Torvo bowed again, then set his big warm hand on top of mine as he tugged me down the hall.
I peered over my shoulder as Father and his guards turned the opposite way toward the upper levels, and only then did I relax my shoulders.
“Are you well?” Torvo asked, pulling me into a shadowed alcove away from the main passageways. He held me at arm’s length, inspecting me again.
I tried to smile for him. “Now I am.” My gaze slid to the floor.
“What did he do?” Torvo spit the words through clenched teeth as he forced my chin up with a gentle touch.
“He drains my magic regularly. It is…uncomfortable.” I sighed and looked down at his full lips rather than the pity in his eyes. “He has done so less often since the Imrati, though. I believe it is because of you.”
“I should kill him,” Torvo said, glancing out into the hall beyond.
“No!” I grabbed his arms to get his attention back and lowered my voice. “No. It is important he has the last stone first. Besides, I don’t want you to die. I couldn’t bear it. You’ve made my world a hundred times brighter since you won the Imrati, and I don’t think I can go back to living such a lonely existence again.”
Torvo took my face in his hands as the embarrassment of my admission burned its way up my neck. “Then I will be sure never to leave you. Let us not speak of such matters now. Tell me, Princess, where would you like to go?”
“We have to greet—”
“Why waste our time with nobles who simply want to gawk and would lay down their morals for a spot at your father’s table? What would make you happy?”
My heart pattered harder at his words. “I’ve been thinking,” I admitted, “When we were younger, Nyah would fetch books from the library to read to me in my room. I’ve always wanted to visit, but it’s forbidden. I want to search for a spell book that might help me bring her back.”
“Then we have our destination,” Torvo said, straightening to his full height and stepping out into the hall. He offered his arm, and once again we walked together, this time toward the back stairs that would lead to the forbidden room.
The enormous space was dark and filled with dust that tickled my nose and cobwebs that clung to corners, shining like silver threads in the moonlight that drifted through the arched windows. I waved a hand, igniting every candle in the room and filling it with a warm glow that revealed the cherry-colored wood of the massive shelves and a landscape filled with multicolored book spines in all shapes and sizes.
I spun slowly as I reached the center, eyes wide despite the irritation of the collected dust. How could no one have taken care of this? It was a treasure greater than a dragon’s hoard. My heart soared just thinking of the possibilities.
Torvo’s warm, low laugh surrounded me. “I’m glad I was lucky enough to witness this moment.”
My shoulders drooped and I shook my head, a realization falling over me. “However will we find what I need? It could take a lifetime.” I swiped a finger through the thick layer of dust on the shelf nearest me, revealing shining wood beneath.
“There should be spells you can fill out to ask for what you want.” Torvo moved past me to the center table where stacks of scrolls and books lay scattered and forgotten. He rummaged through them, kicking up a cloud and causing him to cough before continuing. Moments later, he stood victorious, raising a piece of parchment in the air like a sword. He bowed and presented it to me.
Carefully, I spread it on the surface of the table and smoothed my hand over it. Black letters appeared in swirling script as I watched. There were words and spaces for checkmarks by each, then lines on which to write beneath.
Fiction
Nonfiction
Subject matter:
“I don’t have any ink,” I said, looking toward Torvo who had come to watch over my shoulder, a steady presence at my back.
“Use your finger,” he instructed, setting a hand on my shoulder. His thumb moved absently over the skin between my dress and my neck. Tiny electric shocks traveled down my extremities.
I cleared my throat and set the tip of my finger to the parchment. The point of contact tingled, and a flash of burgundy light burst forward. When it cleared, there was a checkmark by nonfiction. I grinned over my shoulder at Torvo, whose eyes sparkled.
Setting the edge of my nail next to “subject,” I concentrated, and a second flash of light traveled across the lines like a lightning streak, leaving behind words that faded from the same wine color to black.
Creating a shadow hand
For a heartbeat nothing happened, then the edges of the parchment began to flutter, the movement spreading across the entire sheet. In moments, it rose into the air and folded itself into a triangular shape with wings on the sides. The thing spun in circles, sparks of cranberry colored magic shooting out around it. I leaned back against Torvo’s hard chest, watching in awe as it stopped, paused, then zoomed point-first through the aisles.
