“But . . .”
“No buts, young lady.” Uncle Gabriel raised his voice. “Your parents did not give their lives to save you just so you could run straight into Morgana’s clutches. I will not allow it. And have you forgotten about Lilith, and what about the throne of Illiador? It is your parents’ legacy, the one they died to protect.”
That was about all I could take. I stood up, pushing my chair back so hard it nearly toppled over. “I’m tired of everyone telling me what I can and can’t do,” I shouted at all of them and none in particular. “And no, I haven’t forgotten about Lilith. That’s why I came to see you in the first place. But I will not go traipsing off to Elfi to see my long-lost grandmother so that she can teach me more magic. I know enough. I fought Morgana once, and I can do it again. You all seem to think you know what’s best for me, but none of you even know me. My real mother is alive, and you want me to look the other way until I find a convenient time to find her. I can’t do that.”
Uncle Gabriel, Penelope, Aunt Serena, and Rafe stared at me. This was the first time I had actually raised my voice at any of them. I disliked being rude, but I was tired of being pushed around. Well, it stopped now. I was going to do what I thought was right.
I looked around and sat back down on my chair, feeling a little foolish after my rowdy outburst. But Uncle Gabriel had it coming. He rested his elbows on the arms of the high-backed chair and pressed his fingertips together as he assessed me from under his bushy silver eyebrows. Tension coiled between us like a snake ready to strike.
Finally, after a few agonizing, stretched-out moments, he spoke. “I will take what you have said under consideration. But you have to understand that your education is in no way over, or even half done. The old magic of the High Fae is unpredictable and very complicated, even more so than the magic of the mages. Demon magic is even more powerful. It is ancient magic, and few have ever really understood it.”
My uncle paused to see if everyone was listening. Then, satisfied at our undivided attention, he turned back to me and continued. “Even if you do somehow manage to travel through Illiador without getting caught by Morgana’s remaining Shadow Guard and by some means manage to enter the castle at Nerenor, how will you defeat Morgana? How will you find the Dagger? How will you know where it is? It could be hidden anywhere. It may not even be in the castle. Have you even thought of that?”
I kept quiet while my heroic dreams were smashed to bits. The hope of ever seeing my birth mother was fading away into the realm of the impossible.
But Uncle Gabriel wasn’t finished. “Then, even if somehow you do manage to find the Dagger, how will you get out of the castle? And let’s say you even manage to do that, although I would imagine you would probably be dead by this point. I would like to know how you propose to break the ancient demon curse on the Dagger and free your mother? Especially when you don’t know the first thing about demons and the magic they possess.”
I sighed deeply. He was right, I was being foolish. How could I ever have thought that I would do all these things? I would have liked to think that I could, but the road ahead sounded impossible. Even with the powers I had, I would never be able to get into the castle, let alone find and steal the Dagger and free my mother. I needed help, but no one was going to give it to me. I was on my own again, and I had absolutely no idea what to do next.
A Plan
I wandered the long corridors of the Summer Palace for hours, thinking. I knew what I wanted to do, but Uncle Gabriel had expressly forbidden me to pursue the Dagger. I couldn’t forget about it just like that. My mother had given her life for me. After what I saw in the dream and now knowing what it all meant, how could I not at least try to save her? Uncle Gabriel could take one key to Elfi so that Morgana couldn’t open the Book of Abraxas. And it made sense to go after the Dagger at the same time. If we released my mother and destroyed the Dagger, Morgana could never release Dragath.
I was supposedly the most powerful fae-mage since Auraken Firedrake, but I was not a legendary king. I could not command armies and lead battles; Uncle Gabriel didn’t really need me. He only needed me as someone to put on the throne. I would be a puppet, answering only to Uncle Gabriel if he did manage it. I knew Uncle Gabriel and Aunt Serena and the king and everyone else were expecting me to be a queen. And even though I didn’t think I was queen material, I would try my best, but only after I found my mother.
I knew it was hard. I knew what I was proposing was foolish, but there had to be a way. If only someone would help me. I needed more information. I couldn’t understand why the dreams had only started after I turned sixteen. So I went to see Penelope. She wasn’t in her room, and I finally found her walking in the gardens.
When she saw me, she led me to a bench and sat down, gesturing for me to sit beside her. “Tell me, my dear, how can I help? I can see something is bothering you. I have to say, I hope you don’t expect me to try
