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“In four days, to make sure I’m gone before the Kyrians get here.”
“By the time you get back, I’ll be in the temple. But the moment you return, I’ll come visit.”
Miranda embraced her. “I’m so happy this goodbye will only be temporary.”
Miranda’s mother called to her, the lady’s shrill voice carrying through the bright afternoon. Miranda rolled her eyes. “I’d best go see what that witch wants, before she sends father to look for me.”
Cassia let her go, but before she could return to her gardening, Agata rushed out of the kitchen. “A royal messenger just arrived. I overheard everything when I took Miranda’s father his midday meal. Someone sent word to the king about your magic, and the king sent back that the Kyrians are not to take you.”
“Who told him?” Lio broke in.
“I had no idea then,” Cassia said, “but now I suspect it was the Collector, wherever he was hiding at Paradum. He told the king my magic was coming in so they could make their move.”
Her gut clenched as her past self protested to Agata. “But it’s the law. He must let me go.”
Agata’s indignation felt like the hum of angry bees in the Union. “He’s demanding we keep your magic a secret. He’ll be here the day after tomorrow.”
“The king is coming for me?” Cassia’s hand tightened in Knight’s ruff, her heart racing. The king had not shown this much interest in her in years. What was he planning to do to her? “I can’t let him take me away from here. I can’t go back to him. Oh, Agata, please—there must be something we can do—”
Agata radiated hope and confidence. Her intent was so pure, and for an instant, past and present Cassia both took comfort in it. “There, there, my girl. It’s hardly treason if some mages visiting the kitchens accidentally sense some magic in your aura. I’ll send two of the maids over to the temple. The Kyrians can come back with them tomorrow, instead of next week. By the time the king gets here, the Prisma will have evidence of your magic.”
A new horror came over Cassia. “You said the Prisma is so powerful that she can detect the tiniest whiff of any affinity, anywhere in the castle.”
“Oh, yes, her tests will be definitive. The king will not be able to deny that you belong in a temple.”
Miranda would never have time to escape by then.
Cassia’s voice came out small. “Agata, I…I can’t take the tests tomorrow.”
Agata frowned. “Now is not the time for a case of nerves about your magic test, my dear. This is your chance. Your only chance to escape the king. If he gets here before the mages do, I’m afraid of what he’ll do. And it will be too late for a common spinster from the kitchens to protect you.”
“The mages mustn’t come.”
“Do not let your fear of the king stop you. You must go through with this, Cassia. I will not stand by and watch you give up your entire life.”
Cassia looked into her future as she had seen it in that moment. Endless years in silent rooms, punctuated by audiences with the king that made her shake with fear. Unless he sent her on a short journey to meet her sister.
She had not known there would be Hesperines in her future.
Her fourteen-year-old heart hardened into certainty. It was her or Miranda.
Cassia opened her mouth to speak. She fought the motion, trying to change the words she had said. But her tongue obeyed her past choices.
“I will take the tests,” she said, sealing their fates. “Bring the mages.”
Her memories dissolved in a haze. Then they were in the main hall of Castra Paradum. Among the mages of Kyria, there now stood a mage of Chera. She held up a cage. Inside, Miranda’s row screamed, rattling the door.
“Her magic is great—and very dangerous.” The Cheran mage’s voice drifted from within the linen that wrapped her from head to toe. “She must don the shroud and remain within the confines of the temple until she learns to control her power over life and death. Once it is certain she will not harm anyone, we can allow her out to assist with embalming and burials.”
Across the room from Cassia, Miranda struggled against the grasp of her father’s guards.
“Be still, girl,” her father hissed. “Don’t cause me even more trouble, not now.”
Miranda lifted her face. Her emotions struck Cassia like a blow to the chest on that table in the sickroom. No revenge of Miranda’s could hurt more than this—to experience this moment in Union with her.
Together, they felt Miranda’s future closing around her. She couldn’t breathe. She stared down into her own grave, but long before she reached it, she knew her spirit would die.
An open wound gaped inside her where her first and only friend had been stripped away.
