Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Raised white lines mar the pale skin on her shoulder blades, old scars that magic can’t heal.
A dark, vicious side of me wishes Lady Danthrin hadn’t been pregnant.
I settle onto the ground, cross-legged, and slide off my ring. The buzz arrives almost instantly and doesn’t relent until I slip the ring back on again. I sigh, my frustration mounting.
“Close your mouth and breathe in through your nose, count to three, and then release it through your nose. Over and over again,” Gesine instructs, her back still to me. “You must find your center. Focus on that, and your affinities will follow.”
Her instruction echoes that of Hessa, the yoga instructor who works in the studio two doors over from my old apartment.
My old apartment. Has someone else moved in there already? Did they bag and toss my things? What about all my sketches? My art supplies?
I guess it doesn’t matter. That life no longer exists.
Slipping off the ring again, I follow Gesine’s directions, counting in my head over and over again as I pull air deep through my nose, my lips pressed together.
Gradually, with each new breath, the buzz dissipates.
I open my eyes to find Gesine watching me expectantly. “What does it feel like?”
I search for a way to describe it. “Like a tiny ball right here.” I press my palm against my chest. It’s still very present, but not uncomfortable.
She smiles. “Which is where it should remain, as long as you focus on your breathing and do your best to maintain your equilibrium.”
“Is that why you’re always so calm?” And Wendeline too? “Because you’re so focused on your breathing?”
She seems to consider my questions. “Perhaps. I was a rather hyper child. A caster’s affinity does not make itself known until they begin to mature into adulthood. The simple casters, ones with a link to one fate, often can’t feel it until Mordain’s instructors coax it out. Elemental casters are usually afflicted with this discomfort you’ve been feeling, and the more powerful their links, the more focus they must give to centering them.”
“I never felt it at all before.”
“It is a strange situation, indeed, given how powerful you are. But now that you can, you must remember to keep it centered.”
“If you’d just told me to do yoga breathing, I’d have had it days ago.” I wouldn’t have wasted so many hours, struggling.
“I will have to remember that.” She smooths a palm over her forearm, drawing my attention to the emblems that glow through her threadbare sleeve.
“Were you born with those?”
“These?” Gesine pulls up her sleeve and holds out her arm for me. “No. These, I was given in Mordain when I mastered each of my affinities. All casters are marked as such. Even Wendeline has one.”
“I never saw hers.”
“It is much smaller. They reflect the caster’s strength.”
I only briefly saw the emblems, the night we met. Now, I’m able to study them in more detail. The gilded doe—Gesine’s affinity to the god of water—is twice the size of the other two. I think back to that tremendous wind she drew the night we escaped. If her connection to Vin’nyla, the god of air, is only half of what she has to Aoife …
“I still remember the days I received each as if they just happened. It is an occasion for celebration among the casters. I earned this last one”—she taps the butterfly—“much later than most, but I didn’t mind because it allowed me more time studying in the library with the scribes.” Her laughter is musical. “I spent all my hours in those dank, dark halls, surrounded by dusty scrolls and immersed in prophecy, absorbing all I could while making friends. Since I was a little girl, I’ve always found what the seers see fascinating. I had wished that only one affinity would develop, so I could scribe for the remainder of my years. But the law required that I enter service for Queen Neilina, so I did. You were twelve when I arrived. Princess Romeria was twelve,” she corrects, her eyes flittering to Eden.
The girl is fast asleep, her breathing slow and rhythmic.
“Did Romeria know about her blood?” That a god designed her to kill an entire race?
“When I arrived? No. She knew of her father’s efforts to tender your hand in marriage to Islor’s heir and bring about peace, and she knew of her mother’s vigorous opposition to the idea. But she did not learn what Neilina had done with Aoife’s aid until several years later, and by that point, her mother had thoroughly poisoned her thoughts to all things Islor. When Princess Romeria mounted her horse to cross the rift, she had but one goal: to destroy the kingdom and claim it for her own.”
“And when did you get involved in all this?”
“Not for years. When I arrived in Argon, I hoped that the union King Barris was attempting to broker between his daughter and King Eachann’s son would lead to realizing the prophecy. It was not until years later, after Ianca and I had formed a close bond, that I would learn what Queen Neilina had made her do.” She smiles sadly. “Ianca was so young and naive when she arrived there, nineteen and eager to please the dreaded queen, and without any love for Malachi’s demons. That’s how we were raised, to fear them. Even I was apprehensive upon first arriving here,” she admits sheepishly. “When the queen demanded that Ianca summon Aoife, Ianca didn’t think she had any other choice.