Chapter 11
“Do you know what the Wult king fears?” Silvestra asked me.
I sat across from her at the breakfast table. After last night’s ball, I’d returned to my room, but despite Kull’s advice, I had worried about him the entire night. I hadn’t slept well, so sitting here, chitchatting with the witch over a breakfast of soufflés and buttered bread only made me want to go crawl back in bed.
“Why should I answer?” I said as I picked at a piece of bread. “You told me you wouldn’t hurt him, yet it seems you’ve found a way to torture him still. I’m tired of playing your games.”
The witch pursed her lips. “You of all people should know the answer to my question—you should know what he fears.”
“I refuse to answer.”
She laughed. “Very well, then. Perhaps you don’t know him as well as I thought.”
“I know him well enough to understand when he’s being tortured. I don’t know how because he won’t tell me, but I know you’re doing something to him.”
I placed the lotus cube on the table. Its two remaining symbols taunted me. Wult magic didn’t exist, and black magic was an art I never had—and never would have.
“You’ve lied to me about Kull, and you’re also lying to me about this box. You said I can open it, but that’s not possible.”
“I have lied about nothing. There is a way to open the box. You’ve not yet explored all the possibilities. As for the Wult, there is nothing I can do to stop his pain. Only you have that power.”
Something about her words gave me pause.
“He’s in pain because you tortured him. I fail to see how I can fix that.”
“No. He is in pain because of you. Tell me, how well does he truly know you and your capabilities?”
“He knows everything.”
“Does he?”
I swallowed my fear. I still hadn’t told him what Theht had done to me in the cave.
“I can help you,” Silvestra said. “I can show you how to defeat your enemies, how to alter the course of time, and how to sabotage prophecy.”
She was bluffing.
“No one can do that. You couldn’t even stop your own prophecy from happening, so how could you possibly stop mine?”
“Open the box, and once you do, your questions will be answered.”
“Why can’t you just tell me?”
“Some things are not meant to be spoken of.”
I glanced at the box. Her words taunted me. I wanted to believe her, but deep inside, I knew it was a lie. Still, if I wanted to be free, I had no choice but to keep trying.
We finished our breakfast in silence. I left the room with a brief good-bye and once again found myself wandering the hallways, trying to be creative and think of something I hadn’t tried yet, although I felt as if I’d already tried everything.
The hallway widened and then branched in two directions. I took the path to my right and ended up in an unfamiliar part of the castle.
I entered a library. White marble spanned the floors and surrounded the thick pillars that supported an arched ceiling. Veins of gold shot through the marble, complimented by images of golden ivy etched along the walls and around the square base of the pillars. Although it was a grand room with marble statues and a detailed painting of cherry blossom branches covering the ceiling, it wasn’t the largest library I’d ever been in—and there were only a few books on the shelves. Kull’s library wasn’t as spectacular, but its sheer size overwhelmed this place.
The lack of books made the place feel empty and barren. Wandering through the stacks made me curious to know what sort of books the witch would keep on her shelves. I found a beautiful blue book with raised images of a fairy forest gracing its cover. Inside, the pages were made of a thick paper that creaked as I turned from one page to the next. It was a journal that belonged to someone named Elisabeth, from Earth Kingdom, and it chronicled her short visit to Fairy World. Magic hummed from the pages, and I felt the witch’s spell bound to the journal. Focusing on the spell, an image came to me of a wraith woman I’d seen at the ball. Was the magic connected to her? It made sense. Perhaps this was her diary and the witch was using it to keep Elisabeth prisoner. I replaced the book on the shelf, feeling sick inside at its implications.
One more slave that the witch controlled. One more life taken away.
Scanning several more tomes, I realized they weren’t all journals. Some were history texts written by elves, some were encyclopedias of ancient languages. I also found a few religious texts written by Wults. Some of the lines caught my attention. A socitie built on an ancient religion, evolved over time through the magic and grace of our wourld Faythander, infusing itself until the old is transformed and becomes something new.
Had magic changed more than just their religion? Had it changed them as well? I kept that thought with me as I scanned more books. Magic was bound to these tomes the same as I’d felt in the journal. Each book represented a person in the castle, someone who had crossed the witch or made a bargain they’d lost, and now they belonged to her.
Kull’s sword served the same purpose as these books. He’d given it willingly and without hesitation. I knew when he’d done it that it had been a risky move, although we’d had no other choice. But I’d felt magic when he’d struck the bargain with the witch. I’d known something bad would happen but had had no power to stop it. And now he would soon become hers.
Frustrated, I walked away from the
