Page 44 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“There was some magic involved, yes,” I say, but I want to scream.

Calista squints her eyes at me and they glow yellow, the signature of the Air Folk. At first, I feel nothing, but the deeper she tries to get into my memories, the more it begins to feel like claws are scratching at my brain. Tearing it apart, peeling back its layers, but I know she is only finding empty pockets because I can see what she is seeing. The pain begins to grow with every second, and when the whispering begins, I find the combination unbearable.

With the whispering always comes thoughts of the murders. How could it not? It was right after I killed those Folk that it began.

I try extra hard to not think about it, just in case Calista can see.

The pain, the tearing, the burning turn the whispers to a screech until I feel the heat behind my eyes grow hotter—a sensation I’ve familiarized myself with tonight but could do nothing about—and I say, “If you do not stop right now, you will find yourself deeply regretting this.” The pain helps give my voice a menacing tone, and I hope the glowing orange of my eyes is enough to scare her.

I’m surprised when she laughs and releases her hold on my mind. “Quite the brazen little Fire Folk. Since you don’t understand your role, let me explain it to you. Not only am I your princess, I’m also your future queen. You know what that means, don’t you?” She leans in closer and whispers, “It means when I ask, you answer.” She speaks slowly, like I’m a child, when she asks, “What were you doing with Lucian?”

I really do know that making an enemy of the future queen is a bad idea, but I don’t stop myself before I say, “None of your damn business.”

I’m sure Leiholan would tell me a better, more posh way to say it.

“You have wards placed. I want to know, are they from Lucian?”

Mental wards were never something we worried about in the septic. No one had the time—or the energy—to go rifling through someone’s memories. That must be far from the norm around here, the school for future leaders. They would get much further ahead if they could steal others’ thoughts.

The necklace feels like it burns against the skin of my chest, even though it does not. If Mom wanted to keep myself and her protected, it only makes sense that she would block my memories from others. But if she put up a mental ward, powered by a memor, that means that any mind magic would be difficult to use against me, though not impossible.

“None, none, I swear,” I quiver my voice and shake my hands, feigning the fear I know she wants to see from me.

“Wendy!” Calista screams. “Wendy, get out here!”

The door to one of the suite rooms opens and a tall girl with green eyes and dark brown skin and hair steps out. The light from the room behind her casts an aureole effect on her, and I wish we could be meeting under better circumstances. She walks closer to us, slowly and gracefully, and when she looks at Calista, she frowns. A scar from her bottom lip to her chin protrudes when she does.

“What are you doing?” Wendy asks. Her voice is strong, but her hands are shaking.

“Tell me if she’s telling the truth,” Calista says. If I do have a mental ward, the Eunoia wouldn’t be able to pull the truth from me easily, but she can still determine whether or not I’m speaking it.

Wendy looks at me, her entire body shaking like a leaf. I wonder if it is my anxiety that is making her shake as I scramble to come up with a way out of this. Eunoia can detect lies based on emotion. Maybe if I just believe that I’m telling the truth, she won’t be able to tell. I mean, I don’t know if my mom put up a ward or not. It’s a guess. The truth is, I don’t know.

I repeat this to myself again and again.

I don’t know if I have any wards up.

“If I do this, will you leave me alone?” Wendy asks.

“Yes,” Calista says.

“Go ahead,” Wendy says and levels her green eyes on mine.

“What mental wards do you have?” Calista asks in a way that tells me she is already gloating.

“I don’t know.” I really don’t know.

“She’s telling the truth.”

Calista glares at Wendy and me, but mostly at me. “If Lucian finds out anything about my kingdom that could’ve only come from this room, I’ll know who to turn in for treason.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you let him into your subconscious?—”

I cut her off. “I know that, but he’s the future king of your kingdom.”

“We’ll see,” she says.

---