Page 10 of Frost Like Night
Just as I draw in a breath to shout my questions at him, Rares looks up.
“Maybe I should teach you patience first.”
I pull onto my knees, fighting a wave of dizziness. I’m so close to the fire that sparks shoot off the crackling branches and prickle against my skin.
“How do you have magic?” I demand, my voice flat. “And how can you use it on me?”
Rares rests his elbows on his knees, fiddling with the knife as he considers me. “You’re worried I won’t explain myself, and that even if I do, I won’t tell you everything, and you’ll be left with incomplete information. You’re worried that you made a mistake in trusting me, but even more that you didn’t find me soon enough. Did I cover everything, dear heart?”
“I—”
“And while I could assure you that I’m nothing like your previous mentors, I’ll do you one better—now that we’re safe, or as safe as we can be, I’ll tell you everything, as I promised I would. Every detail, every reason, every flutter of a curtain that brought us to this moment. Well, noteverycurtain—some of them have been right gaudy.”
“But . . . why?”
“Tassels, mostly.”
“No,” I groan. “Why would you tell me everything?”
He blinks. “Why not?”
I sink to the ground. Just this easily? I’m used to arguments—me begging Sir to explain things or me begging Hannah to tell more.
Rares goes back to sharpening the knife, and after a breath, he starts, his voice detached, as if he doesn’t hear himself. “I know your mother told you how the Decay first ravaged the world. It was a byproduct of people using magic for evil acts, and Primoria’s monarchs countered it by collecting their citizens’ conduits through a violent purge.”
I have to bite my tongue to keep from asking how he knows what Hannah told me, afraid that if I speak, he’ll realize how freely he’s giving me this information.
“Thousands died,” he continues. “Even more were possessed by the Decay, lost to evil desires. It was a time of desperation—and that led the world’s monarchs to create the Royal Conduits in the hope that such large amounts of magic would cleanse the world of the Decay—and they did, for a time. One for each kingdom, four linked to female heirs, four to male heirs. Paisly was no different, except in our refusal to bow to our monarch’s power as easily as the rest of the world.
“We saw a violent cycle beginning. We saw magic stillin use, great stores of it connected to eight people who could become power-hungry. How could they be trusted not to turn corrupt and reintroduce the Decay to our world? Magic had no place here—its price was too high. We formed a rebel group, the Order of the Lustrate, that stood against our queen.” Rares pauses, his gaze lifting from the knife to me. “And our rebellion was successful.”
“Paisly has no queen?” I barely hear the question fill the space between us.
“We have a regent who plays the part of queen whenever such a figure is needed, but Paisly has no queen—or Royal Conduit.
“The night of the rebellion, the Paislian queen refused to negotiate,” he continues. “She saw a threat against her kingdom, not the salvation we claimed. And in the battle, she sacrificed herself for her kingdom—moments after the Order broke her Royal Conduit, a shield.”
“What?” I pant, folding my arms around my torso as if holding on to myself is the only way to make sure his words are real, not some bedtime story told around campfires.
Rares’s dark eyes stay on mine. “No one realized what we had done until it was far too late. Everyone in Paisly, from the queen’s supporters to the Order’s members, became infused with magic. We all became conduits—just as your mother wanted for Winter.”
Shock makes me rock forward. “How do you know that?”
But Rares presses on. “The queen’s supporters werebadly outnumbered after the rebellion. The Order came into power and has ruled Paisly ever since. And it is still our belief that magic has no place in this world—which is why we have kept our kingdom as secret as possible. Of course, occasional interactions with other kingdoms are unavoidable, but it is amazing what you can hide when no one knows what to look for. Especially when your kingdom is in a mountain range.” He winks. “Mighty easy to hide things in mountains.”
My mouth bobs open. What Hannah wanted to happen in Winteralreadyhappened in another kingdom—magic spread to every citizen when their conduit broke and their queen sacrificed herself. An entire land of people like me, who are themselves conduits for a magic they never wanted. No wonder Rares said Paisly is safe from Angra.
I lean forward excitedly. “Then you can stop Angra. Paisly can rally an army and have him defeated in a matter of—”
Rares’s look silences me. “Though every Paislian is a conduit, there weren’t many of us left after the war. Which is why we took the approach we did—our members have been waiting all over Primoria for a conduit-wielder whose goals aligned with our own. The Order has been building a defense—but Angra’s forces include the armies of at least three kingdoms now, and every soldier is infused with his magic. We could hold him off well enough in Paisly’s mountains, but we do not have the manpower to defeat his threat on our own. But we will help you—the Order may believethat magic has no place in Primoria, but our circumstances have forced us to become experts in it. We’ll help you learn how to control it so you can use it the way you plan to—to get the other keys to the chasm from Angra and destroy all magic.”
My heart nearly ricochets out of my chest. “You know about that, too?”
Rares smiles sadly, the fire reflecting yellow in his dark eyes. “Being part of the same magic allows for a mental connection. Touching another conduit intensifies the reaction—you’ve experienced that through skin-to-skin contact with other conduit-wielders. But truly strong conduits can access thoughts and memories without physical touch—until you trust your magic enough to use it all the time, to block such intrusions. You’re welcome, by the way, for getting Angra out of your mind. Someday you’ll have to hold him off on your own, but for now, he can’t access your thoughts.”
I touch my temple. “Wait—could Angra hear my thoughts before I knew he was alive?”
Rares nods once. “Yes.”
