Growing pains. Her boy was trying to hold back a part of himself that had matured so recently he hadn’t figured out yet how to deal with it. He’d be more successful trying to hold back the sea at high tide. He could do it for a while, just like he could hold back his own nature for a while. But eventually he would have to yield to what he was. If he didn’t, he might damage himself in ways that couldn’t be repaired.
Tersa stared at the tangled web. She wasn’t seeing everything yet. She’d seen the simple answer, the easy answer. But there was more. Did she want to know about the more?
She followed the threads beyond the simple answer and saw the larger vision, saw what it might cost later if she gave her boy the easy answer now.
If her boy’s pain went away, the one person he would need the most wouldn’t be there. The one the winged boy would need wouldn’t be there.
Daemon’s pain was the only key. Could she let her boy suffer now in order to spare him from greater pain later?
“Everything has a price,” she whispered as she retreated from the visions.
Using a thin stick of wood, she destroyed the web, carefully wrapping the spider silk around the wood until the frame was clean. Then she used Craft to snap the web-shrouded wood from the rest of the stick and dropped the used portion into a shallow stone bowl. Another bit of Craft created a tongue of witchfire, which she dropped into the bowl.
Tersa watched wood and spider silk burn until there was nothing left, until even the witchfire was extinguished, having used up the tiny bit of power that had created it.
She returned her tools to the trunk and locked it before she picked up the stone bowl and went downstairs. Witchfire burned anything and everything in its path, so even though it looked extinguished, she would keep watch on the bowl for a while longer before burying the ash in the garden.
Once the Mikal boy was asleep, she would ride the Winds to the Keep and hope the one who could save her boy would answer her call for help.
٭Surreal, you’re needed.٭
٭Sadi? Where are you?٭ He was supposed to be picking up Jaenelle Saetien after school. Had that much time passed since he’d left the Hall on some unspecified errand in the village?
٭We’ll be at the Hall in a few minutes.٭
You’re needed. Not Your presence is requested. Not Your presence is required. Those were the phrases of Protocol that were usually used. But this? This sounded like a Warlord Prince summoning his second-in-command.
Which meant she should be heading up to the residential part of the Hall, weapons drawn and ready to meet trouble.
And yet she hesitated as she studied the Black-locked door that she’d discovered at the end of a corridor deep beneath the Hall. She didn’t know what was behind that door, but she was sure that few who walked through that door walked out again.
Better not to know. Especially now.
But these walls on either side of the door were also protected by Black shields, and those shields now served a purpose for her. She didn’t think Sadi came down here often, and she was sure these shields weren’t part of the defensive shields around the Hall. Those Sadi checked every fortnight. But these . . .
Everything had a price. Including power. Especially power. And during a witch’s moontime, she needed to channel her power into the reservoir of her Jewels to lessen the pain. Problem was, when everything was peaceful, daily life didn’t use much Gray power.
She could ask Daemon to drain her Gray Jewel. He’d done it every month during her pregnancy and several months after that to keep her and the baby safe from her own power. But she didn’t want to ask him. She didn’t want to be dependent on anyone right now. Especially him. She could take care of this on her own, as she’d done most of her life.
More than anything, she didn’t want to be vulnerable around the Black more than could be helped.
٭Lady Surreal?٭ Beale called.
Did Beale know what was contained behind that door? Did he know about these corridors? Would he think to look for her here? And would he tell Daemon if he did find her here?
She’d lived in and around the Hall for decades, but she hadn’t discovered this part of the structure until Daemon had gone to the cabin for a couple of days. She’d been restless and had picked up the feel of the Black beneath the cellars. Curious, she had traced the power to that door and the shielded walls. Still curious, and sufficiently cautious, she had carefully coated her Gray power over the Black—and then pushed just enough for the Black to respond to the “attack” and absorb the Gray. She’d moved to another section of the wall and done the same thing, not pushing too hard in case there was an aggressive shield beneath the passive one. Her Gray Jewel had been drained of some of its power, while the Black shield, though thinned, was still intact. She’d hoped the thinning would be put down to a shield naturally fading over time.
Now there wasn’t time for careful draining, not if she didn’t want people to start looking for her—and there was one person in particular she didn’t want finding her down here.
“Shit shit shit.” Surreal unleashed a wash of Gray power along the wall, hitting the Black shield with enough force that she could feel the difference in the shield. If she kept slamming power at that one area until she completely drained the Gray, she might weaken the Black, but the power she needed to release prior to her moontime wasn’t going to make that much difference to the shield.
Couldn’t make that much difference. But if Sadi noticed, if he asked why she was trying to break one of his shields . . .
Which side of Daemon Sadi’s temper would ask? Her husband? The Warlord Prince of Dhemlan? The High Lord of Hell? Or would it be the Sadist who wrapped his arms around her and played a game of pleasure and pain while he asked questions and waited for answers she didn’t want to give?
With any luck, it would take him a while to notice the weakened shield.
He’d notice plenty if she didn’t get her ass moving and find out why she was needed.
By the time she reached the entrance hall, the only person waiting for her was Beale. She opened her first inner barrier, then quickly shut it against the stew of emotions filling the great hall.
“Prince Sadi?” she asked.
“He left for a meeting that was not on his calendar,” Beale replied. “He will not be home for dinner but will be back sometime tonight.”
“Jaenelle Saetien?”
“The young Lady has gone to her room.” Beale hesitated. “Nothing was said, but I had the impression that an infraction of the rules has caused some unhappiness between the Prince and the young Lady. Before he left, he gave the order that the young Lady was not allowed any dessert or treats for the rest of today and all of tomorrow.”
But he left me to carry out that order, Surreal thought sourly.
“I have informed Mrs. Beale.” Another pause. “And Holt.”
“Did you inform the Scelties?” she asked.
“I think they already know.”
Shit shit shit. That didn’t sound good. “They’re upstairs with Jaenelle Saetien?”
“No. They’ve gone to the stables to play with the horses.”
The girl was upset and the Scelties were not offering company. And Sadi had left for some mysterious meeting. Great. Wonderful. “I’ll sort out what I can.”
As she turned toward the informal sitting room, which held the staircase that led to the family wing of the Hall, Beale said, “Lady Surreal? It’s not my place to say, but the Prince looked . . . unwell.”