Page 34 of Tower of Tempest
Driscoll snorted and gestured ahead to Leoni, who walked next to Prince Lochlan. “With little Ms. Rule Follower here? I don’t think so.”
Next to the bridge, the rocky cliffs rose up, and carved into them were the faces of the Seven Spirits. Gran had shown me pictures of this famous monument, but seeing it in person... it was incredible. I stopped, and Driscoll came to my side, both of us stopping and staring.
“I’ve never seen it in person,” I said.
“Me neither.” Driscoll didn’t seem like someone impressed by much, but awe filled his voice.
“You know, in school, we learned that humans were the ones who made this.” He gestured to the seven faces. Spirit Earth looked so serene, eyes closed, mouth tipped in a smile while Spirit Fire’s brows drew together in a fierce scowl. Spirit Star smiled like she knew a secret no one else did. Spirit Shadow also smiled, but his smile was more cunning, more dangerous. Spirit Sky, a flat line to his mouth, looked bored, like he was above all this nonsense, while Spirit Water’s nose was raised in the air ever so slightly, like she was fed up with the lot of them. Spirit Frost’s eyes squinted as if he didn’t trust a single one of them. They’d captured what we knew of the spirits’ essences so perfectly.
“Humans?” I echoed. “Why would humans make this? They don’t worship the Seven Spirits.” They’d have no reason to since they didn’t inherit any of their powers.
“Slavery,” Driscoll said. “Our ancestors used humans as slaves when they first came here, but eventually the humans revolted, and our ancestors worried about the conflict, about angering the spirits by entering into a war. So they freed the slaves and created peace treaties with all the human lands.”
I hadn’t known that. It was an interesting piece of history, to be sure. Gran’s voice echoed in my mind, a memory surfacing of me asking her about why the elementals were so afraid of conflict, of the spirits’ wrath, should they misuse their magic.
“Bah.Those idiots. The spirits don’t hate conflict. They crave it. No one is getting smited from this continent for starting a war.”
She’d told me to think critically, to really study the spirits and what I knew of them, and I’d come to the same conclusion as her.
“Are you two coming?” Prince Lochlan called from ahead.
I marveled at the structure for one more minute before turning and resuming our walk.
“What did you mean?” I asked Driscoll, who was by my side once again. “When you said you can’t use your magic to make a vine or a flower. What would be wrong with that? Why would it bother Leoni?”
He flung his hand out. “Oh, it was decreed by our ancestors three hundred years ago. The Law of Moderation.”
I’d heard of that in a book I’d read, but I hadn’t paid it much attention. There were so many laws and treaties, they all tended to blend together. Plus, given I was trapped in a tower and didn’t know how to use my magic, I never much cared about learning more. Now it seemed like something I should know.
“What is the Law of Moderation?” I asked.
“The rulers of the seven courts came together and decided that no one should use magic unless necessary.” He gave me a look. “I suspect they left it vague so that they could deem what’s necessary. Anyone caught misusing their magic in Arathia is at risk of being imprisoned. Elementals across the courts are encouraged to report any egregious activity. It’s created a culture of fear—everyone so afraid of using their magic in the wrong way that they use it sparingly. So I can’t just produce a flower for fun. Now if I’m growing a flower to make a garden, that’s deemed okay. If I’m using magic to defend my life, that’s okay. Using magic to attack someone unjustly? Not so much.” That much I knew. I’d used that same argument against my attackers who’d stolen my gold. Driscoll shrugged. “It’s pretty inconsistent. Those who have favors with the kings and queens or council members get lenience, while others are not so lucky.”
I gave him a look. “Aren’t you best friends with the queen of the earth court?”
“Yes, but that won’t stop Leoni from arresting me on the spot. She’d probably put me in cuffs and make me stay in them until this journey is over,” he grumbled, which made me laugh. “Normally, I’d be all overgetting handcuffed—but not by Leoni. That’s a mood killer if I ever heard one.” His eyes brightened as he glanced at the former captain of the guard. “What about a handcuff fantasy?” he shouted to her. “You’ve got the cuffs, about to arrest someone, then they turn and cuff you... to their bed.”
Leoni stopped, spinning to face us and frowning, while Prince Lochlan stopped with her, a smirk on his face. Over the last few weeks I’d learned of Driscoll’s little challenge to figure out a fantasy that would... intrigue Leoni. So far he’d failed miserably.
“Why would I be arresting someone near a bed?” She wrinkled her nose. “And what if it’s just a mattress on the floor, which is what the majority of those who aren’t nobles use?” She frowned. “Also, I’m good at my job, and no one is going to be able to take my cuffs and use them against me.”
I laughed as Driscoll glared at her. “I’m going to find a fantasy you can’t ruin. I’m making it my personal mission.”
Leoni stuck out her tongue. “Good luck with that.”
Prince Lochlan slowed to a stop. “Let’s scout out a place to sleep for the night.”
I sank down onto a rock, staring out at the carved monument in the distance.
“I’ll go hunt for dinner,” Leoni said.
“I can make the fire.” I tugged off my boots, massaging my painfully sore feet. I wasn’t used to walking these long distances like they were.
“No.” The prince crossed his arms. “Stay here. Enjoy the view. We’ll take care of the rest.”
I bit my lip. “Are you sure?”
Driscoll opened his mouth, but the prince cut him off before he could speak. “Yes.”
