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“I’m not blind,” Sindri says drily. “And I have spent a good amount of time glaring at her.”
“Oh.” My mouth twitches. “Okay.”
“But your curves are the only ones I want, Dark Eyes. You’re the only one I want.”
I look away, not to let him see how his words touch me. My body is flooded with warmth. “So you don’t think we look related?
“You could be. Even people who don’t look alike can be related.”
This isn’t helping. No matter what Ophelia says, I have a feeling she’s also unsure of her story. At least, about knowing exactly how I was found. And the only people who can confirm who I am are Father and Mother.
Too bad I’m not returning to them ever again.
“The Apollinari isn’t the only strong witch family,” Ashton says. He has been quiet until now, seeming lost in thought. “There are also the Callistos, the Artemisi, the Hecatessi, the Tethys…”
“But the Apollinari line has always been the strongest,” Sindri says.
“She really believes she is the Queen,” I whisper. “Says she was raised with the knowledge she’s one, that she was taught to weave those enchantments. That they are part of a Queen Witch’s powers.” I glance at Sindri. “I don’t have such a power. You know what that means.”
“Mia…”
“I’m not the Queen. You were wrong.”
“I don’t think it’s as clear-cut as that,” he murmurs, scrunching up the paper wrap of his sandwich. I hadn’t noticed him inhaling his food. “Magic is never black and white. And it evolves over time. Powers, too. Not to mention races.”
“And the circumstances,” Ashton says. “Take Queen Witches for example. In the past, they had it easier, before the advent of demonblood that suppressed elemental magic. They had full access to their conduits without problems. But since demonblood spread, the Queens were unable to siphon properly. Witches lost their place in the hierarchy of power. Women lost their place in the magical pool because demonblood caused mainly boys to be born within the magical races.”
“So putting a spell on you to suppress demonblood,” I say slowly, “would be the solution. Suppress demonblood, let elemental magic well up, then siphon it.”
“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” Sindri says.
Ashton says, “Ophelia. She sent that archer to hit us with spells.”
“But she was trapped in a coma inside a glass coffin,” I protest weakly.
“Remember how time passes differently inside the Academy?” Ashton says.
I curse inwardly. “Right. So in fact, she had plenty of time to wake up and send a shooter.” It’s a strange thought, despite everything coming to the surface. My beloved cousin. My best friend. Sending a shooter to the Academy, casting a net over the world.
And oh no… I remember a heart in her diary and the boys’ names, shot through with arrows. I had thought it a clue to how they had broken her heart. Was it actually a plan to have them shot?
“For her, it could have been done the same day she woke up.” Sindri gazes out at the lake. “For us, it would be weeks after you arrived here.”
“This time slip thing is so disorienting,” I grumble.
“It’s also useful,” Ashton says quietly. “Like with my brother.”
I lean forward to look at his face. “Any news? It’s been days since the accident.”
“For us. Outside the Academy, it’s only been a day.”
“Wow, true. That is useful,” I whisper. I nudge him with my leg. “How are you holding up?”
He shrugs those broad shoulders. “I need to talk to my sister. Haven’t been able to get through yet. The system was down due to all the magical surges. I think Ophelia’s enchantment in particular is affecting all tech.”
I grimace in sympathy. “Bummer. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
