“No, do not be ridiculous. I sense it, as if I have an...em, an itch. When I come close to the iron, or the copper, the itch becomes stronger.” She peered at the ceiling, and her gaze lost its focus. “Otokar, you are wearing your silver dagger today. Am I correct?”
The Magician gulped the bite he’d been chewing and brushed his napkin over his lips. “Yes, m’lady.”
Tereza’s gaze dropped to me. “My ancestor could have turned his dagger into a cuff, or a necklace, or a useless lump simply by thinking about it.”
“But not you?”
Her lips thinned. “No. Not me.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, it’s only that I’ve never met anyone remotely like me—someone descended from the old gods. I’ve come to realize I lived a very sheltered life before my father’s death.”
“Hmm....” She arched a sleek black eyebrow. “Indeed. Whereas the history of the gods was a mandatory part of my education, as well as the study of their ancestry and the state of their powers today. The Lord of Thunder was truly one of the last. The people of Inselgrau must have been very...em....”
“Devout,” Otokar offered for her. “They must have had substantial faith.”
“‘Had’ being the pivotal word,” I said. “Whatever regard our people had for my father failed upon his death. I was unceremoniously ousted.”
Tereza motioned for a servant to refill her wine goblet. “We know about that. Our Inselgrish diplomat gave us a report. But that was not a homegrown, em, revolution, after all. Or am I misunderstanding?”
She had the gist of it. It wasn’t the people of Inselgrau who had chased me from my home, but rather a plot born in Dreutch, in the castle of Aeolus Daeg, a cousin so far removed I couldn’t possibly account for our familial connection. Somewhere along the way, though, Daeg and I had shared blood, and he’d wanted the power still running through it. “You’re correct, m’lady.”
Tereza blotted her napkin against her lips. “So, why are you hiding in a Prigha slum?”
Heat rose in my cheeks, and I dropped my gaze to the tabletop, staring hard enough to burn holes through the wood. “Because my powers are unreliable, my allies are few, and I have good reason to believe I’m being chased by a group of powerful and malevolent Magicians. It’s not safe for me to go home yet.”
Otokar gasped beside me and sat up straighter. “Indeed? Who are these Magicians of which you speak?”
The thought of naming Jackie and his cohorts put a bitter flavor in my mouth. “Have you ever heard of Le Poing Fermé?”
His brows arched to his hairline, and his mouth fell open. He quickly recovered his composure and cleared his throat. “Le Poing Fermé, you say? Are you certain?”
“Yes. Quite.”
“What do they want with you?”
I glanced away and toyed with the edge of my napkin. If simply naming the cabal had brought me so much distress, how could I bear repeating the details of their terrible scheme? No. Refusing to speak of it only gives my fear more power.
“They wanted a child.” I stopped. Otokar cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow, his gaze intent on me as he waited for my reply. I closed my eyes and spit out the rest of their conspiracy. “They wanted my child—one born from the blood of both god and Magician. They wanted me to marry one of their virtuosos and bear him an heir, of sorts.”
Both Tereza and Otokar gasped.
“But that...” The Magician pushed away from the table and stood. He strode toward one of the windows, paused, and turned to face me. The harsh set of his jaw and the lines on his brow clearly demonstrated his outrage. “That would be an abomination.”
“My words exactly.” I explained the dominion Ruelle Thibodaux, leader of that Magical cabal, had maintained over me. How he kept me bound in his home, and how he turned me into a quivering mound of jelly whenever I attempted to escape.
“If I could sense you reaching for the Thunder, Le Poing Fermé could as well. They might already be here, searching for you.”
My fledgling appetite retreated, and I pushed away my plate. “I know. I wasn’t planning on staying in Prigha much longer. I was hoping to obtain information about the location of a certain band of Fantazikes before I left, though.”
“Fantazikes?” Tereza’s dark eyes sparkled. She paused with her wineglass halfway to her lips. If I had to guess, the fantastical nomads mesmerized her as much as anyone who had ever met them. “Why are you looking for them?”
How much could I tell her? Revealing secrets to this girl I barely knew and certainly couldn’t afford to trust would be imprudent and risky. “They made me a promise, and I want to collect on it.”
Otokar’s eyebrows arched high, and he glanced at the empress. The two aristocrats had received a month’s worth of amusement from me in the span of one afternoon. Suddenly I’ve become their court jester. “The Fantazikes owe you a favor?” he asked.
“Not a favor so much as an agreement of sorts. I have friends among them. Allies.”
The two glanced at each other again, and amazement shone plainly on their faces. Tereza’s attention returned to me. “Instead of running away, Evie, why do you not stay in the castle with us? No one would dare to threaten you here. I will provide whatever resources you need to help you find your friends.”
I swallowed my surprise and struggled to maintain a neutral expression. It was too soon to raise my hopes. “Why would you help me? You don’t owe me anything.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. Raising her wineglass to her lips, she drained the remaining contents. Then she rose from her seat. I stood as well, relying on the morsel of protocol training my father had managed to instill in me. The tiny empress offered her hand to her Magician. Otokar hurried to curl her fingers into the crook of his elbow.
“Our kind are rare, Evie.” Despite her diminutive stature, Tereza’s gaze settled on me with the weight and force of a woman born and trained to rule a nation.
I could have been like her, I thought. I should have been like her.
“We are like precious stones, to be cultivated, maintained, and protected. I would hope, if I were to ever find myself in your, em, situation, that I could depend on you to provide for me in a similar way.”
A blaze of longing erupted inside me—a hunger for belonging, a want for safety and security. Not that Gideon wasn’t formidable when he put his mind to it, but I resented relying on his protection, and without the use of my powers, depending on him had become a necessity. I also hadn’t known anyone in years who understood what it meant to have the blood of a deity, even a reduced demi-god, running through her veins. Tereza and her high castle walls and her personal Magician offered an alluring enticement. “What if I say no?” I asked.
She tossed her head, reminding me of an impatient filly, eager to run. “You are not my prisoner, Evie. But things would be much more interesting if you were to say yes. Would you not agree?”
My thoughts shifted to Gideon and Marlis. “I have two friends here—a guardian and his sister.”
She flapped her hand. “Yes, yes, we know of them as well: your big handsome soldier who works in my stables, and the girl who takes in mending and wash.”
“H-how do you know?” Unease, like nausea, stirred in my stomach. The empress knew so much about me. Maybe too much.
