The music drifted up to us, and we danced with the soft magic of the clouds against our skin. Steady, pulsing rhythms and low, flowing notes stirred excitement—the sound of a storm soon to be unleashed.
I knew Silvestra was down there somewhere, and I wondered why she wanted so badly for me to open the box. What would happen? What did she think I was capable of? I pondered her words and felt uneasy at their implications. Assuming I discovered how to open the Wult symbol, after that, the only way to open the box was by using black magic. It was a thought that nagged at me. I knew for a fact I didn’t possess black magic. Even though my mother was a practitioner, my father had admitted he’d studied me as a child and was confident I didn’t possess the art. Not only that, but I’d never in my life sensed black powers within my own.
Kull put his finger under my chin, bringing my gaze to his. “Did I lose you?”
“No. I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
About whether I’m a witch. But could I tell him?
“Would you believe me if I told you my mom was a witch?”
“A witch? How do you know?”
“My dad told me. He found out a long time ago, when my mom first crossed into Faythander before I was born. I guess he was worried that I would have the same powers as my mom.”
“But you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Is this what you’ve been worried about?”
“Maybe a little.”
“But you’ve never manipulated dark powers. You have nothing to worry about.”
“You’re right. I guess I’m worried about my mom, also. If she ever returns to the elven capitol where my dad calls home, she’ll be executed. The elves have a standing order to execute any witch who enters their lands.”
“Where is she now?”
“I’m not exactly sure. The last I checked, she’d sold her house and taken off to tour the world. She and my dad were somewhere in Africa helping with relief aid.”
“Relief aid? That doesn’t sound typical for her sort of lifestyle.”
“No. She’s not the same person I knew as a teenager, that’s for sure. Sometimes I feel like I never knew her.”
The music stopped, leaving only silence as we drifted on silvery clouds, and then it started again. Glancing up at Kull, I found him deep in thought.
“Do your worries have something to do with that box?” he asked.
I cringed. I hadn’t wanted to admit how very far away I was from opening it. But I supposed I would have to be more forthcoming with him. He’d see through my lies anyway. He always had.
“Yes,” I answered. “I managed to open the three sides displaying symbols that represented the magical races of Faythander, but the last two symbols have me stumped. They’re the symbols for Wults and black magic, but as far as I know, Wults don’t possess magic. And worse, I have no idea how to open the symbol representing black magic.”
He remained silent as he pondered my words. “You’re sure about this?”
“Pretty sure. I feel like I’ve been set up to fail, although the witch seems confident that I’ll figure it out.”
“I agree, which makes me believe there must be another way.”
“Another way to open the box?”
“No. Another way out of this castle—another way to get this collar off my neck.”
I shook my head. “I can’t think of any other way.”
“That’s because she wants you to play by her rules. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“I wish that were possible. As it is, she hasn’t given me any options. If I don’t open that box, we both belong to her.”
He stroked my hair. “I have faith in you. If anyone can solve this, it’s you. You understand magic like no one else.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Of course,” he said with a grin. Despite the pallor of his skin, he still managed to look like his old self. “I am always right.”
“Ha! It seems no matter what the witch does to you, you manage to still be your usual cocky self. I doubt even transforming you into a wraith will mask your personality.”
“Cocky? Who says I’m cocky?”
I cupped his cheek, feeling the roughness of his skin. “I do. It’s what I love about you.”
His eyes lit up. Swirling colors surrounded him as he leaned in to kiss me. Below us, the music stopped, announcing the end of the ball. He looked up, and his eyes darkened.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“The witch,” he said. “She only allowed me a few hours to attend the ball, and then she demanded I go back to the dungeon so the wraiths can continue…”
“Continue what?”
He shook his head.
“Kull, continue what? Are they still hurting you? She promised not to hurt you anymore.”
He closed his eyes, and I saw the old Kull no longer. His brow creased with worry, and pain etched the wrinkles around his eyes. “They’re not hurting me—not physically, at least.”
“Then what are they doing to you?”
When he opened his eyes, the pain was gone. “Nothing. I am well enough. But I must go soon.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
He pushed a strand of hair away from my eyes. “I know. But I don’t have much of a choice.” Leaning closer, he whispered into my ear. “There is a tunnel in the dungeon where she keeps me. It leads to the waterfall. Use it to escape this place if you must.”
Confused, I stared up at him. “I won’t leave you here.”
“You may not have a choice.”
He turned away, but I grabbed his hand. I hated that he wouldn’t tell me what was happening to him. It made me worry even more.
“Kull, what are they doing to you?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
He leaned forward and kissed my forehead, then he cupped my face. The look he gave me was so full of love I couldn’t
