Page 35 of Mistress of Hours

“You all are the closest geographically to us, and our fading magic likely began around the time we sent our first noble here to become consort,” Orion said, glancing at Evienne to see if he should share the most recent update to his theory. Evienne nodded and placed her hand over his, squeezing gently in support.

“I also have reason to believe that our magic suppression is limited to the boundaries of Beitar,” Orion added.

“While this is fascinating, I cannot ignore that the implications of what you are saying are very concerning. Evienne, do you believe Aldith knows anything of this?” Cecelia asked, her voice now lower than it had been when she greeted them.

“I do not know. I have to believe she doesn’t and that if there is a connection, it is some sort of accident or something that was done before our time,” Evienne said, holding her friend’s gaze and shaking her head slightly. Sadness at the possibilities sat with her, and she knew she was opening Cecelia up to hurt as well by sharing all this with her.

“What makes you believe your magic suppression is only within Beitar?” Cecelia asked, still worried and processing, but eager to have all the information.

“I was able to shift today. Solon and I are the first Tuanadair to spend more than a few days at a time outside our borders in more than a century. I suspect I am currently free of whatever affliction is draining the magic from my people,” Orion said, holding Cecelia’s gaze.

The room was silent for a long moment before Cecelia sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Well that’s certainly troubling. I do not think we can ignore this, can we?”

Orion relaxed a bit, and Evienne felt the same pang of relief in her chest. Cecelia would help them; she was sure of it. She hated to expose her friend to the same doubts she was having about everything they knew here in Ichorna, but she knew Cecelia would always rather have all the information.

“We need your help in finding whatever we can about what may be happening here, Cece,” Evienne said quietly.

“Of course I’m going to help you, don’t be silly. If there’s something going on here we have to figure it out; it’s wrong to just let a whole nation of people suffer. The least we can do is try. I have to believe we will find it’s all some misunderstanding,” Cecelia said, standing and striding for the door.

“We need to go to the special, secret archive room for this,” she said, gesturing for them to follow.

Chapter Twenty-Six

An afternoon spentin Cecelia’s secret archive left them with more questions than answers. Most of the texts in that room were from before the first Beitaran consort came to Ichorna. Rare histories to be found in this library, to be sure, but not helpful with regards to their current suspicions.

Evienne had spent the morning engrossed in a book of Beitaran folk tales that told stories of a group of immortals called Contrapensae. They were protectors of balance who seemed to go to extreme lengths to defend the magic of the world. Evienne had never heard of them before, but Orion seemed familiar with the stories when she showed him the book.

“The Contrapensae were said to be immortals, one hailing from each nation of Domhan na Rùin, that wielded unique magic on behalf of the old gods. Sometimes they remained hidden; other times, they served as advisors for rulers or simply wandered the land. We had many stories of them back in Beitar. One, in particular, took to wearing a large floppy hat and enjoyed putting on displays of fireworks for children in the villages he visited,” Orion said with a chuckle.

“What sort of magic did they have that was so special?” Evienne asked.

“No one knows for certain, but it was believed they wielded time magic.”

The three parted ways after a few hours, promising to continue their search as they were able without raising suspicion. Evienne pondered the implications of all she had learned over the pastfew weeks as she made her way toward her rooms to dress for the formal dinner this evening.

Her steps slowed, however, as she passed the hall that would take her toward the offices of palace officials who were not high-ranking enough to live in the palace proper, but still required a private workspace here.

She hadn’t paid all that much attention to Dominique’s career since they had divorced, but she had always been close to the queens’ affairs and likely still was, based on comments Aldith made here and there. Hers was one of the dozens of tiny offices, just a few paces down the hall.

She knew Dominique was still in charge of the Sangviere posted at the Centrale Dellumine. After her conversation with Lou the other day, it was worth at least taking a look to see if any of her recent work could help them along in their search.At the very least, perhaps she could find out why Dominique had moved those Sangviere that had been assigned to Lou.

Evienne tried to feel guilty at the prospect of snooping through her ex-wife’s things, but she found she couldn’t muster it.

Walking with purpose toward Dominique’s office door, Evienne grasped the cool metal of the handle and found it locked—annoying but unsurprising. She had hoped Dominique would be arrogant enough to leave her door unlocked, as if she had nothing to hide. She pressed her bladed ring into her palm, a small rush of magic pulsing in her hands, and she willed a strand of physical force to wind its way into the lock mechanism. It released with a click, and she slipped inside as the door snicked shut.

That little trick was one that had taken her a shocking amount of time to learn; and one she did not readily admit to having. Manipulating the physical world with blood magic, which was naturally drawn to living, not inanimate, things, was easier said than done. She had practiced tirelessly to acquire the skill,hating the feeling of being trapped or shut out. Better to let people think their locked doors were safe.

She took a deep breath as she surveyed the small space. It was incredibly sparse compared to the other rooms in the palace. Nearly every corner of Lucinne was filled with rich colors and textures, but this room was all harsh lines and bare surfaces, save for the bronze walls themselves.

The scent of cloves hung heavy in the air; it, too, was everywhere here in Lucinne, but sometimes it felt more concentrated. Dominique must have had her window open at some point.

Evienne stepped over to the bare desk and pulled out the top drawer, full of files, all labeled and organized to clinical perfection.

Most were records of the energy usage of the city, broken out daily. Some were more general reports, synthesizing the daily data into weekly or monthly charts. Nothing seemed amiss; Evienne had been to all of the official read outs since she took the title of High Sangviere six years earlier.

She continued scanning the files, pulling out one labeled “Schedule”. Odd—there had been another folder at the front of the drawer that held the full staffing rotation for the Centrale Lumine. She opened the folder, doubting that Dominique had truly left an outdated document in her files, given the rigorous upkeep this drawer clearly underwent.

The document inside was formatted like all the others she had seen, and the dates on the schedule grid were the same that the other file covered. All of the days were the current month. She pulled out the other schedule to compare, and her brow furrowed as she stared at them side by side.

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