Magic Under Stone

wary of?”

“Oh, he never paid attention to his studies. I highly doubt he’ll be a threat, but he was staying in the human city with the new ambassador of magic, Dr. Greinfern, who is a necromancer. If he’s still there, you might have some work ahead of you, but if he tries to come back here… You should be able to nab him in our borders.”

Luka frowned. “You see through my glamour, don’t you?” His voice was low.

“Only… glimpses,” Ifra admitted. “You don’t look well, sir.”

“I’m not. I have a wasting sickness and none of the healers know how to fix it. But I’m not on my deathbed quite yet.”

“You won’t use one of your wishes for your health? I might be able to-” Ifra shut his mouth. A jinn should never suggest wishes to his master.

“It doesn’t matter to me if I die. I’m ready to join my wife. I have a lot of burdens here, and death seems the only way to lay them down. I just want to make sure my sons will take care of things and protect the kingdom.” Luka stood, and what Ifra had taken for stately movements now seemed merely the slowness of age. “I think they know what needs to be done.”

“What will you do with Erris Tanharrow when you find him?”

“Depends what shape he’s in.” Luka sounded weary, but beneath it was hard resolve. “Why don’t you bring him here first, and then I’ll decide.”

Chapter 1

I’m not sure what is worse: failing to save someone or saving him only halfway. That question kept me awake nights and followed me into the mornings, when I awoke to the weight of a silver key around my neck.

I still wore my nightgown as I slipped from my room into his. Erris was sleeping-if you could call it that-on his stomach, clothed except for his jacket. His shirt was slit down the back to expose a keyhole surrounded by clockwork that was mostly concealed by the shirt.

It was hard to believe that just weeks ago, he had been a true automaton, with a painted wooden face and articulated fingers that moved stiffly along the keys of a piano. His soul, the soul of the lost fairy prince, had been trapped inside, unable to speak. He had been my secret, a tragic secret that tore at my heart, and yet I had never had a secret like that. It made me feel alive. I would be the one to set him free from his prison. I would be the one to summon the Queen of the Dead and give Erris life.

I hadn’t realized my efforts would gain him only a half life and make me the keeper of his prison. His face and hands looked supple as flesh, felt supple as flesh, and he moved like a living man, but beneath his clothes he was still just clockwork, and every night when he wound down, he had to trust that I would be there in the morning to help him wake. It was not exactly the romance I had hoped for.

Each morning, a wave of profound loneliness swept over me. The key was a burden no one would understand.

He was still, like someone who had passed away in his sleep. Not a breath or a twitch. I put the key in the keyhole and twisted five and a half times, the length we had determined would give him a full day before he wound down. The key, as always, almost seemed to have a mind of its own once it was slotted in place. There was none of the tension a clockwork toy would have.

I pulled out the key and slipped from the room. I was out the door in three ticks.

I used to wait while he awoke. I thought he would want to see a friendly face. But sometimes he cried out as if he had seen something awful in the realm of dreams. Other times he lay motionless, haunted eyes staring before they met mine. He never seemed to come to peacefully. At first, he would try to smile and tell me of his nightmares, of his lost family or being chased by strange beasts or any number of other awful things, but one day he snapped at me not to ask him what he saw ever again. So I started to leave and he didn’t tell me to come back. I think it made it easier for him to pretend he woke like a normal person.

I returned to my room. Karstor’s maid helped me dress in a fetching silk gown of dark blue with green velvet trim and cummerbund and pulled my hair back in soft wings over my ears, with a knot at the nape of my neck. Even fine clothes weren’t enough to make things feel proper and normal anymore.

I joined Karstor at the breakfast table. He had a book opened against the rim of his plate, but he looked up from it when I entered the room.

“Good morning, Nimira.”

“Good morning, Dr. Greinfern.” Erris called him Karstor, and that was how I thought of him, but of course I was not so presumptuous to refer to the head of the Sorcerer’s Council, the ambassador of magic, by his given name.

The table was already spread with good, simple food: a basket of bread, a plate of large slices of golden cheese, a crock of yellow butter, and a pot of coffee. I could hear the cook, Birte, singing in the kitchen as she often did.

Erris wouldn’t join us; his clockwork innards would not accept food.

“Ready to set out tomorrow?” Karstor asked.

“I suppose so. I will miss you, sir.” I had known, of course, that Karstor was a busy man. He had just ascended to the head of the Sorcerer’s Council after the revelation of the crimes of his predecessor, Mr. Smollings. He had never expected to take in boarders, I was sure, especially not a long-lost fairy prince. It would likely be a conflict of interest, considering the political tension between the people of Lorinar and the fairies. Still, some deep-down part of me had hoped he would look upon us as the children he never had, because it stung to go away.

“I will miss you too,” he said softly. “But Ordorio Valdana will know more than I do.”

“Is he the most powerful sorcerer in Lorinar, do you think?”

“He is, at least, the most powerful necromancer,” Karstor said. “And that is what you will want. Besides that, he was involved in the war when Erris was cursed. Maybe he will know something.”

I put my hand to Hollin’s letter. I kept it in my dress pocket at all times, even though I knew every word by heart now. If anyone knows how to help Erris, it might be Mr. Valdana. They were not the most hopeful words, with the “if” and the “might.” The suggestion had come from Hollin’s wife, Annalie, who could commune with the spirits. The spirits told Annalie that Mr. Valdana was once married to a fairy woman. Melia Tanharrow… Erris’s sister.

I wished it were Erris’s sister we were going to see, but she was dead. His whole family had died during his years imprisoned in an automaton.

“Don’t despair,” Karstor said, noticing how I had begun to pick at my food. “Look how much you have already done. You have helped Erris so now he can move and speak.”

“Yes, but…” I stopped. How stupid I would sound, to say what I worried was true-that Erris seemed to care for me more before I helped him.

“He needs time to grieve,” Karstor said. “It takes time.” Karstor had lost something too, I reminded myself. His dear friend Garvin had been murdered by Smollings.

I almost wished I had something solid to grieve. Every day I told myself to be strong for Erris, but it was hard to be strong so unceasingly. “I know,” I said.

“It’s not all you have done. You helped prove that Smollings murdered Garvin, and removed him from the council. You can’t know how much that means to me, Nimira. Have I ever thanked you properly?”

I made a vague sound. I couldn’t remember. “I didn’t do anything with the thought of being thanked.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “But you should remember that your bravery helped more people than just Erris. You brought me peace, knowing that Garvin was avenged, and that is no small thing.”

I smiled, just a little, at that. Sometimes my bravery only brought me trouble, and it was good to know that it could bring someone peace.

“I know it all must look a little bleak right now,” Karstor continued. “But we never know what fate has in store for us.”

It was true. A year ago, I was just a foreign girl of no importance, dancing in a cheap show, and today I was having breakfast with one of the most powerful men in the country. Tomorrow, I would be on a train north to find a man who would, I hoped, be more powerful still.