Page 2 of Jeweler to the Blessed
The smile he returned was big and bright, warming the room the same way the fire did. “Very good.”
“How can you tell I’m right?”
“Quartz doesn’t hold and wield magic.”
A curse: his wholly unsatisfying responses.
I shook my head, turned, and headed toward the front. “I need to water the plants.”
Potted plants covered almost every surface by the windows. My fingers sank into the still-damp soil of the first pot. The dirt came from the Oldwood, the forest surrounding the city, just like the plants. Though moist, a lingering warmth dwelled below the surface. The Oldwood was all contrast like that: hot and cold, dead and alive, terrifying and captivating. As I pressed my fingers deeper into thedirt, I felt the woods call. Darkness overtook my vision as I strained to hold myself apart.
“Alright, Emberline?” Alaric placed a hand on my shoulder.
Flinching, I shook my head in direct contradiction to my words. “I’m fine.”
I’d have to pass through the forest to leave the city and begin my journey. My experiences in the Oldwood had been abnormal at best. This practice was supposed to help keep my mind clear when I ventured through tomorrow night.
I glared at the dirt like it had personally offended me. My tests had been going so well. Whatever just happened was disconcerting.
Alaric didn’t speak as he followed me behind the curtain.
I gestured to the books strewn across the two highbacked chairs and footstools. “I’ll get this cleaned up. The sun is rising.”
Being in this part of town when the rest of the city woke up was dangerous.
Alaric’s shop was in Lower Hill, a city district in the shadow of the looming spires of Glanmore Castle. This part of Kavios would soon be overrun with the Blessed, and the risk was too high for me to be in their proximity.
I had one rule: Never let the Blessed touch my skin.
They were so-called because they’d received the king’s blessing, as evidenced by the adamas jewelry he permitted them. When wearing adamas, the Blessed’s touch stole emotion, granting them magic.
My secret, and the reason I was leaving, was that they couldn’t steal from me.
I had no explanation for why their magic didn’t work on me. Emotion was stolen from citizens on the streets every day. Alaric told me Eris, Goddess of Chaos, protected me. That answer was no longer good enough. The texts in Alaric’scollection cataloged information about the Sibling Goddesses, magic, and history. I’d spent years sifting through it all but had found no satisfying answer for my condition.
The books referenced a library in a neighboring kingdom. It claimed to have answers to the most unique forms of magic. Anywhere had to be better than Kavios, where the only information freely given was that which supported the king’s narrative for the city.
In the meantime, I didn’t want to discover the consequences if a Blessed learned of my immunity. It threatened the validity of King Rodric’s blessing if someone could be unaffected. I might miss my family, but they would be in danger if I remained.
It was a true curse that Alaric worked for the Blessed. He was responsible for sourcing the precious adamas stones and making them into jewelry. No one else in the city could do it. Well, I could, but he refused to let me. Everything he did was to keep my unique abilities hidden from the Glanmores. I was done with him risking everything on my behalf.
My one rule, to never let the Blessed touch me, had come from him and Mother. It was a hard lesson to learn, and the familiar roil of guilt churned in my stomach as I thought of the price Mother paid for my education.
I sipped my coffee and flipped through the first open book on the chair.
“Sneaking another glimpse atChampions of Kavios?” Alaric bent to close and stack another book.
“No,” I said with little conviction.
He chuckled. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Everyone wants to root for the handsome ruler raging against a goddess-given fate.”
He was right. I was embarrassed, but not for the reason he thought.
Champions of Kavioswas part history and part musings. My interest lay in the supplemental material. The less cynical considered them prophecy. They made little sense to me, but Mother loved trying to decipher the passages. On her good nights, she asked about specific sections, and I refused to disappoint.
The book was banned literature under the current king. He’d outlawed any writing that told of the Goddess of Chaos.
King Rodric Glanmore’s city worshiped the Goddess of Order.
