Chapter 8

‘So, he’s finally pulled the royal duties card on you.’ Amusement laced in Varqel’s voice. ‘Credit where credit is due, the man has more patience than I originally thought he had.’

I rolled my eyes, crossing my feet on the chair as I reached over the table to serve myself yet another round of fish soup. No one’s soup beat Lyzia’s. I shut my eyes as I took another ridiculously big spoonful, groaning in delight at the party in my mouth.

‘I’m glad I listened to your suggestion to make a bigger serving, dear,’ Lyzia laughed, her burnt orange eyes lighting up as she grinned at Varqel. Lyzia was the only Nyarellean that has been granted access to the Isles. Having studied healing her whole life in the Queendom, when she met Varqel and fell hopelessly in love with him, she moved to the Isles, and was welcomed thanks to being an exceptional healer. Around these places a healer is a hot commodity despite the usual strict borders around people from other Doms.

‘Well, she does have an uncanny ability to show up unannounced the nights that soup is on the table,’ Varqel stated dryly.

‘In my defence, I do have a one in seven chance of landing on soup night considering this is a staple on your weekly menu,’ I said in between mouthfuls, no doubt looking very unattractive. Good thing V and Lyz were like parents to me.

‘I see your table manners haven’t got much better since you’ve become a queen,’ he snickered.

‘I blame my lack of table manners on the ridiculously good food. No time to think, all the time to enjoy.’ I shrugged unapologetically.

‘I’m flattered you enjoy my food so much, Little One.’ Lyzia smiled fondly at me. ‘But back to the matter at hand.’

I choked on my food, remembering the reason for my being here, having temporarily forgotten it in my enjoyment of the soup.

Varqel rolled his eyes before handing me a glass of water. ‘Honestly Valare, you knew this was coming. It amazes me that you’re surprised at this development.’

‘I think it was more the demand that I stop the contraceptive remedy. The two-week time frame really hit home for me,’ I huffed.

‘In two weeks?’ Lyzia exclaimed, roughly brushing her long copper curls off her face, eyes widening.

I nodded vigorously now she finally understood the urgency behind my request.

‘And you said this conversation happened today?’ Varqel queried, rubbing his hands soothingly down his wife’s back.

‘Yes, this afternoon. He then proceeded to not let me leave his sight until I eventually had to knock him out with my magic to be able to come here,’ I explained, highly irritated that Eliasson had been this smart.

‘He knows that, given space, you can be quite resourceful. Smart man,’ Varqel laughed approvingly.

‘Hey V, friendly reminder that you’re supposed to be on my side,’ I emphasised.

He simply smirked at me, his lips spreading wider when I childishly poked my tongue out at him.

‘I need to get to work if I’m going to have the longer lasting contraceptive remedy potent enough for you to start taking in two weeks. How is your power feeling, Valare?’ Lyzia questioned.

All remedies are stronger the longer they’re brewed, which is important as the more powerful a mage is, the stronger the remedy needs to be. For someone with my power, two weeks is the minimum brewing time. Although he didn’t know why, Eliasson knew it took two weeks for my contraceptive remedy to be ready. Which is why he’d given me the two-week deadline today. The smart bastard.

‘From a physical magic perspective, strong as usual. From a knowing perspective, it’s getting stronger. More definitive when I use it.’ Outside of Mer, these two were the only people I would divulge the extent of my knowing to.

Varqel nodded understandingly while Lyzia cursed quietly.

‘Come see me in two weeks, Valare. I’ll ensure it is ready. Always good to see you, dear,’ she said before turning to her husband and giving him a kiss on the lips. ‘Honey, I’ll leave it for you to arrange the rest?’ she asked, before walking out of the room without waiting for a reply, already knowing Varqel would handle things.

‘What would you do without the head healer in the Solista Isles?’ Varqel teased.

‘Have an Arloman child?’ I quipped, my grimace giving me away.

‘I almost want to see this come to fruition, purely to watch Slaviya have kittens,’ he laughed, eyes twinkling with delight.

‘Can you imagine. My life, quite literally, would not be worth living.’ I couldn’t help the twitch of my lips though. The visual was amusing and I did enjoy pissing off my sister, but not to the extent of having a baby. One must draw the line somewhere, and I feel this is a pretty good point to do it.

‘Ah well, merely a funny thought. Lyzia and I won’t let that happen. Not unless you want it to,’ he stated seriously. ‘Speaking of what you want, have you worked out what you’re going to do once you’ve fulfilled your sister’s desires? You’ll be flying solo, after all. What’s your next step?’

‘Well, it depends on how the assassination plays out.’

‘You have a plan, do you not?’

‘I do.’

‘And have you communicated this plan to your fellow Sol?’ He knew me too well.

‘I just did, before I came here.’

He rolled his eyes, not surprised I left it to the last minute. ‘And?’

‘And they had no feedback apart from annoyance at the fact that I withheld this information from them without collaborating.’

‘What was your reasoning for only telling them now?’

I loved that V knew me. He knew there was a reason behind my actions. ‘The same reason Eliasson only gave me two weeks. I didn’t want to give anyone time to be resourceful, not even my own Sol. I want to have full control over how this plays out.’

‘You’ve had a premonition,’ Varqel stated, realisation lighting up his face.

I pursed my lips. ‘Not sure I would call it a premonition. More an extension of the knowing?’

Varqel waited patiently while I collected my thoughts.

‘I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen and I won’t be able to stop it. Something feels wrong. It’s driving me nuts that I can’t put my finger on it,’ I shook my head. ‘Maybe I’m overthinking it. You know I tend to do that when I’m overwhelmed or stressed. I’m following my training, putting in place contingencies. I’m doing everything right. But I just can’t help feeling I’m not doing enough or I have missed something. Does any of that make sense? Am I going crazy?’

‘You’re not going crazy, Little One. I understand what you’re saying, more than you know.’ Varqel smiled softly.

‘You do?’ I asked, hopeful.

‘I do.’

‘Well, at least that’s something,’ I let out on a breath.

He leant forward, elbows on the table and hands clasped in a fist under his chin. ‘What’s the plan?’

‘Well, I refuse to accept the hand that has been dealt to me. I plan to beat Slaviya at her own game. If she is not going to divulge her intentions, why would I simply go along with her orders blindly? Ultimately, I want my choices to be my own.’

‘Good.’

‘Good?’

‘Yes, I raised you better than to be someone else’s pawn, Valare. I was simply waiting for you to decide you didn’t want that, either.’ Varqel’s voice was filled with sincerity; his face radiated with fatherly pride.

I turned my head, distracting myself with the ocean view, not wanting him to see the tears welling up in my eyes at his emotions.

After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, Varqel’s voice interrupted the silence. ‘So,’ he said conversationally.

I turned my head back to face his with a questioning look.

‘What do you need from me?’

I jumped at his invitation to divulge all my thoughts on the matter, going into far greater detail than I did with my Sol members. Varqel sat back and listened calmly. As head trainer and the Solista army’s general, he took every piece of information I gave him with serious thought and consideration.

After I finished, he simply nodded, acknowledging my rationale.

‘So, what do you think?’ I gnawed at my lip, self-doubt kicking in.

‘I think you’re right.’

I felt the tension in my body leave immediately. I had not realised how much I needed his approval.

‘I trust you’re happy for me to discuss this with Lyzia?’ Varqel asked.

‘Of course,’ I rushed out. ‘I trust you two with my life.’

He reached his hand out to grab mine, giving it a squeeze. ‘I’m so glad we can be that for you, Little One. Know that we also trust you with our lives. You are like the daughter we never had. Nothing will ever come between us, promise me.’ Despite the comforting squeeze, his eyes looked troubled.

‘I promise.’ I didn’t know how to ask what was wrong. V was always capable, always calm, so I let it go for the time being.

With one last squeeze and a smile, he pulled away, standing up to clear away dinner. I followed suit, taking the dirty dishes to the kitchen and readying myself to start washing up.

‘You’ve had a big day, just leave it there Valare. I’ll take care of it.’

‘Are you sure? I don’t mind.’

He simply nodded, nudging me towards the end of the counter before taking my position by the sink.

‘In that case, do you mind if I stay for a bit longer? I wouldn’t mind spending some time in my old room for a while. Being away from reality sounds like a great idea right now,’ I said.

V chuckled, reading between the lines and knowing full well my intense need to have my own space regularly. ‘Stay as long as you like, Little One. Your room is exactly how you left it last. If I don’t see you before you go, stay safe, stay sharp, and remember what I taught you.’

‘You’re the best,’ I grinned, before heading back down the narrow hallway, up the stairs to the right and into the humble room I called my own.

When Varqel initially realised the potential of my power, he insisted on private training sessions with me at his estate. As time went on and we discovered more of my abilities – including being able to teleport much further than anyone else, levitate both myself and other objects, conjure items from thin air and send them off to a chosen location, move the contents in a room at will, and creating wards that shielded rooms– the more prone I was to being too fatigued to teleport back to the barracks. Despite Varqel’s ability to teleport me back himself, Lyz and V gave me my own bedroom. From there, the fatigue-induced-sleepovers turned into dinner after training and breakfast the next morning. Before I knew it, they essentially became my adopted parents. Apart from Dwyla, they felt like the only true family I had. It hurt not to count my own biological mother in that, knowing full well that my father’s control had significantly limited her abilities to be a good parent, but that didn’t change her lack of involvement or care.

I hurried to the floorboards beside the modest single bed. Hovering my hand over the slightly discoloured floorboard, I reached my magic under the floor, searching for the lock that would only recognise me.

Click.

Got it.

Heaving the floorboard up and pushing it to the side, I looked at the black book laid on the top, the glowing eye blinking as brightly as it had earlier. I grabbed it before clambering onto the bed. Legs crossed under me, I found myself leaning towards the book, intently staring at it like I was waiting for something to happen, almost feeling like I needed permission to open the book.

Knowledge finds those who are meant to see. The words the Nyarellean woman spoke earlier came back to me, but this time it was a male voice. At the same time, the mark below my ear flared up with the same humming pulse I had felt in the Temple. I guess this was as good a sign as any that I needed to read this book.

I opened the book, surprised to see a blank page with nothing but a title on it. Flipping through more pages, I found the same format throughout. Strange.

With a flick of my wrist, the pages turned until the book was back open to the first page, aptly named The Beginning. Trailing my fingers over the title, the further I went the more I felt the pulse of my tattoo warm. Much like in the Temple, I felt a surge of power enter me. Eyes closing once my finger had finished caressing the last letter of the title before I could stop them, my mind was launched into a spiralling, black vortex. The sensation of my body fell away as my mind was sucked into a hazy scene.