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He pursed his lips. ‘Oskya was destroyed by a volcanic explosion a few centuries ago. The line of Castor Thenes died out, and since their lands are as infertile as a damn desert, no one has ever tried to make the house inhabitable again. A few islands were ravaged by battle, and then there’s …’
His sentence halted in its tracks. For one silent heartbeat, the world remained motionless save for the flames, which danced joyfully under the paling evening sky.
‘And then there’s the Cobalt Court, of course,’ Agenor finished slowly.
Another silence rippled across the clearing.
On the other side of the fire, Lyn’s eyes had widened. Tared stiffened beside her. In the corner of my sight, Creon did not so much perk up as sharpen, his shoulders and wings relaxing in that deceptively controlled way that betrayed the tension beneath.
I felt infuriatingly young, suddenly, surrounded by people who knew, people who understood, people whose breath had a reason to catch in their throats.
All I knew about the Cobalt Court … ‘Wasn’t that destroyed during the War?’
‘It was.’ Agenor raked a hand through his hair, jaw tight with concentration. ‘About half of the castle is gone, and the rest is a ruined mess. I didn’t think of it as a place of great secrecy at all – that is to say, weknowwhy she doesn’t want anyone around there. But the fact remains that no one has set foot on the island for centuries, and even if it’s not terribly well-defended—’
‘It is quite well-defended,’ Beyla interrupted – calmly, quietly, but in a tone that left no room for arguments.
Agenor raised his eyebrow. ‘Beg your pardon?’
‘Somepeople did set foot on the island, you see.’ Again that little smile, a spark of wanderer’s joy burning through the pale mask of her grief. ‘I tried to reach the castle a few decades ago. There’s a shield of sorts around it – looks like nothing but air, but I couldn’t get through it when I tried. I assumed at the time it had something to do with that damn memorial and didn’t think much about the place anymore, but—’
‘Whose memorial?’ I said, anxious suspicions rising in me.
‘Her son.’ Agenor was very deliberately not looking at Creon. ‘The Cobalt Court was the last place where she saw him alive before he left for the Continent and got killed by human mages. She hasn’t allowed anyone to visit the place since he died – wandering alves aside, that is.’
Beyla huffed a quiet laugh. I glanced at Creon, who had gone still in that most deadly of ways, the glass-edged quiet of a predator readying to strike. What was he thinking of – the day that same grieving mother had cast him out to die in a muddy bay at the Golden Court and told him he’d served his purpose?
‘We’re idiots’, Lyn said before I could figure out how to ask, wrapping her arms around her face with a pained groan. ‘She’s been so loudly sentimental about keeping the place untainted and preserving those memories that I never even considered there might beotherreasons to keep everyone away from the island.’
‘It might still just be the memorial, of course’, Tared said. His slender fingers were rubbing slow circles over his thigh – signs of a mind in deep thought. ‘If she was willing to battle gods over the little prick, a magic shield or two wouldn’t be the strangest she’s done in his memory.’
It’s not just a magic shield, though, Creon signed. That undercurrent of tension below his movements had intensified, leaving an impression of a coil about to snap even on the lazy, elegant motions of his fingers.It’s a magic shield she didn’t tell her most trusted people about, not even those technically responsible for protecting the place.
Tared’s lip curled up at the correction, but he restrained himself to a cold, ‘Yes.’
I had to fight to stay calm as Lyn quietly translated the point to spoken language for my father’s benefit. Creon’s agitation was infectious. I knew that way his wings drew taut against his spine, knew the way his almond eyes narrowed in cold concentration, and he never allowed himself to be so affected by anything less than spectacular breakthroughs. The Cobalt Court – a tightly guarded fortress masquerading as an innocent memorial. Thatwasodd, wasn’t it?
‘Have you ever been there?’ I said, forcing myself to keep breathing slowly.
Creon shook his head with a minuscule shrug.I’m the very last person she would ever allow into the place.
Right. One son lost; as much as she had treated the second as a convenient tool of her own making, she wasn’t making the same mistake a second time.
Or, just as likely, she hadn't trusted the powerful mage she’d forcibly bound anywhere near the secrets of his own lost powers.
‘Memorial or not’, I said slowly, ‘it sounds like we should go take a look, then.’
‘I’m not terribly bothered about memorials for murderers’, Tared said with a grimace. ‘The Mother is allowed to complain about grave sanctuary by the time she’s arranged a proper burial for every human he killed. That shield may be an issue, though – do you think you could break through it, Em?’
‘From the long and extensive study I’ve made of my new magic’, I said, pulling a scholarly face at him. ‘I don’t have the faintest damn clue.’
He laughed. ‘Brat.’
‘I mean, I could try.’ I pulled up my knees, rested my chin on them, and gave the matter some serious thought. ‘It sounds like it might be soft magic – limiting movement, not allowing people to step through. If it’s possible to make a shield of that, the Mother presumably figured it out, and if I have enough iridescence at hand, I may be able to cancel out her magic.’ Now that I put it like that, it began to sound surprisingly doable. Agenor was staring at me with blank eyes, though. I grimaced and finished, ‘I’ll just have to try.’
‘All we can do, isn’t it?’ Beyla said philosophically.
But hell, I wanted more. I wanted to tear the Mother’s shields to shreds. I wanted to find the damn bindings, pens or whatever else they might be. I wanted to drain every last drop of magic out of them, restore all my friends had lost, then burn what was left of the cursed things to dust and ashes. Restless impatience was creeping into my limbs, a desperate urge to jump up and go, go,go …
