Page 54 of A Cage of Magic and Darkness

I don’t know how anyone could have a fire this deep in the hillside, but as I walk closer, I see I’m not mistaken. The bright light after the sudden darkness has hidden the person seated behind the fire, but as my eyesgrow used to the change in illumination, I can make them out.

“Come closer,” the Mage says from where they’re seated on a carved wooden chair on the other side of the fire.

I haven’t spoken a word, and I’m sure I’ve been treading near silently, yet they must have heard me.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I know everything, Princess Taelyn.”

Their knowledge of my name catches my breath. “How did you?—”

“I know everything,” they repeat.

Now I’m closer, I’m able to make out their features. The Mage is hideously ugly. In the center of their face is a flattened nose, the nostrils wide and flared, so they appear as though they’re just holes in their skull. The lips are pale and cracked, their teeth an array of yellowed tombstones.

But those aren’t even the features that capture my attention. The Mage is completely blind. Where their eyes used to be, now thick black stitches close their lids.

Their voice is cracked and creaky. “You’re wondering what happened to my sight?”

“No, I—” My instinct is not to be rude, but the Mage cuts me off.

“I can see more now that I removed my eyes.”

My stomach does a sickening flip at the thought. They removed their own eyes? By the gods, who does that?

Are they completely insane? Is that what centuries of living alone in this cave does to a person? I think of Ruarok. Would he have ended like this creature after centuries if I hadn’t found him when I did?

It occurs to me that the rot actually worked inRuarok’s favor. If the king hadn’t been killed, his magic may never have worn off, and I would never have found him. My heart skips at the thought. How could I have just gone about living my life while he was locked up down there?

I wonder why the Mage has a fire when they can’t see anything, but then realize it must be for the warmth it offers. Do they ever leave the cave? What do they eat? I can’t imagine going for any length of time living this way, never mind a thousand years. I lift my head to try to understand where the smoke is going—we saw no sign of it outside, and a chimney at the top of the hill would surely have allowed smoke to curl into the air—but there is nothing. It just seems to vanish.

“Come closer, Princess.”

I’m not sure how it’s even possible to know everything, but if that’s true, they’ll also have the answer to the question I’ve traveled all this way to ask.

The Mage lifts their hand, the nails long and sharp, the fingers curled and bent, and lightly runs their touch down my face, starting from my forehead, down my nose, over my lips to my chin, where they linger.

“A beauty,” they say, and then lets out a wistful sigh. “How it must feel to have such beauty.”

A part of me wants to tell them it can be a curse, especially for a woman. It’s far harder to get anyone to take you seriously. If I were six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a plain face, I’m sure fewer people would question my decisions.

“Let me touch your wings, girl. It’s been a long time since I was close to a Fae.”

Internally, I shrivel at the thought. I don’t really wanttheir hands on me. It feels too intimate, but I can hardly refuse. It’s a small price to pay for what I’m asking.

I turn to the side and remove my cloak. My wings unfurl and spread, and I beat the air lightly, working out any stiffness from being confined for so long. The Mage reaches for me and runs their gnarled hands up and over my wings, pressing them between their palms.

“It used to be the Fae could really fly,” the Mage says, half to themself. “Their wings would fill the skies. Now they are too big and heavy. Too much inbreeding.”

I bristle at the comment. “I am of an ancient Fae bloodline. There is no inbreeding in my family.”

They chuckle at that, but the sound is like a knife scraping on stone. “You are not, Princess. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you as much.”

They don’t sound sorry in the slightest.

My stomach lurches. “That’s not true.”

“I already told you; I know everything. Have you never wondered why your magic is so weak?”

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