“It’s hard when you realize that you’ve become the other woman,” she continued. “You think it will never happen. And then it does.”
Her words came like a punch to my stomach. She was talking about me. Kull had dumped her for me.
“Were you in love with him?” I asked.
“At first, no. At first, I felt he was crass, rude, overbearing. But when I spent more time with him, I began to see him differently. I admit that I began to love him. I shouldn’t have. Our alliance had been tenuous from the start, and when he met you, I knew I did not have a chance with him.”
“I’m sorry,” was all I could think to say.
“Don’t be. You’ve no reason to take the blame. The fault was mine, for I believed in something I knew was false.”
I felt like I might collapse, so I sat on Heidel’s bunk instead. Euralysia’s words were crushing. What happens if I become the other woman?
No. I couldn’t let myself think that way. I had no reason to doubt Kull’s feelings for me. He loved me, and if I doubted our love, it would lead to nothing but distrust and bitterness.
“How will you hide the orb?” the princess asked, changing the subject.
The orb. Right. I’d completely forgotten about it.
“I would help you with an illusionment spell, but…” She sighed and looked at her hands.
How must she feel without her magic? I’d lost half my magic and felt as if I’d lost a limb. “I’m sure it must be hard without your magic.”
She looked up at me, her eyes swollen and shining with tears. “It’s not so bad,” she said. “There are others who suffer worse than me. The dragons, the fairies. It is not so bad for me.”
I had never really liked the princess. The few times I’d met her, she’d seemed proud and aloof, but now I was beginning to see her in a new light. She’d always been extremely gifted in magic, and her knowledge of the inner workings of Faythander’s politics was impressive. Perhaps now would be a good time to pick her brain.
“Princess, what do you know of Geth?”
A haunted look crossed her face. “He isn’t who he seems,” she answered. “He wears a human mask, but he is a goblin. He acts and thinks like a goblin. He will not hesitate to trick those around him to get what he wants. I do not know his motivations, but I know this—he will use whatever means necessary to get what he wants.”
I held my pack close, feeling the familiar, smooth glass of the orb through the canvas. Was it a fluke that I’d been able to escape so quickly? I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Geth had told me himself that his spies would be watching. Was it possible they were on this ship?
“If that’s so,” I answered, “then what should I do to keep the orb protected?”
Her eyes grew heavy. She didn’t answer.
I wasn’t sure she’d heard me. “Princess?”*
“Yes,” she said. “I am pondering your question.”
As she lay there with her head on the pillow, her silvery hair spilling around her head and elegantly pointed ears, I realized that I was speaking with someone more connected with magic than I had ever been. She wasn’t human; she was elven—a creature of fairy. I’d always considered myself a decent practitioner, but my powers were insignificant compared to her abilities.
“An illusionment spell would certainly be powerful enough to hide it,” she said, “though if our enemies are able to sense magic, it would be easy to detect.”
“I agree. With the fading magic, an illusionment spell would stick out. My father can normally accomplish an illusionment spell without leaving behind a magical trace, but at the moment, I’m not sure he’s up to the task.”
I also don’t entirely trust him.
“Yes, an illusionment spell would only draw our enemies to us.”
“Maybe a simpler spell? A masking spell, perhaps?” I asked.
“No.” Her labored breathing sounded uneven. “No, it won’t be enough. You must… find a balance…between the two spells.”
A balance? I wasn’t sure what she meant. Was there another spell I wasn’t aware of? An illusionment spell would make the orb completely invisible and untouchable. To someone without magical abilities, it wouldn’t exist, but the trace of magic it left behind would be noticeable to anyone with a practitioner’s skills. A masking spell would simply camouflage the orb. It could still be touched if one knew where to look. I must have been overlooking something. I stood and paced our small cabin.
Now and again, I glanced at Euralysia. When I was sure she was sleeping, I closed our door and locked it with a click. I stood by the compartment beneath my bed and slid the drawer open.
With careful fingers, I lifted the orb out of my bag. Its familiar feeling of magic warmed me. With its soft ocher light filling the room, I stared transfixed at the radiant white petals of the blossom floating inside the crystal. I was humbled to be in its presence, humbled to be its protector. Its steady hum of power overwhelmed me. It seemed odd, but I felt as if the magic knew me, as if it wanted to reach out to me—to tell me something—though I couldn’t detect any more than that.
I held it over my drawer. As its magical light reflected off the smooth-grained wood, an idea struck me. I didn’t need an illusionment spell or masking spell. I needed them both.
Letting the pure magic boost my own powers, I cast a simple masking spell on the orb. Its light faded and blended with the wood. When I felt confident that it wouldn’t be seen, I placed it back in my bag.
Euralysia was right. The illusionment spell, while a powerful enchantment, would still be easy to detect if one knew anything
