the seven kingdoms. Glowing lines spread out along the different kingdoms, except none passed through Baist. This meant magic would be harder to use, with nothing to tap into or draw from but nature and ourselves; whereas in some kingdoms, whole cities were built around a cross section of ley lines and they flourished. Even the weakest of those in magic could call flame, water, or air, for ley lines amplified their gifts.
“Who in their right mind would even consider living there?” Maeve had huffed. “Do you realize how strong a magic user would need to be to even cast the simplest of spells?”
Lorn had ignored Maeve and looked right at me. “Only the strongest of you could survive there.”
And now here I was. Had he known this was my destiny? That pulling off what I did in this forsaken kingdom took more energy and toll on myself than I was used to? He must have known.
I smiled as I thought of Lorn, our handsome tutor. Each one of us, at one time or another, had a crush on the ageless elf, who more than likely viewed us as children. Our years, all less than twenty-two, would be mere babes to his two hundred. His hair was long, black as coal, his eyes as gray as ash, and his ears pointed, the only real giveaway to his fey heritage—that and his magic.
He was the one who evaluated each of Lady Eville’s daughters and chose our course of study. He would show up on the very first day of winter and leave once the first flower bloomed in spring. Where he traveled the rest of the year was a secret, one we had tried to wrench from him, but he always smiled mysteriously and gave us a vague answer.
“I must go travel the ley lines and keep watch over the kingdoms,” Lorn would say. Why or how the handsome fey came to be included in our reclusive family, I wasn’t sure I would ever know.
I knew my mother had placed a traveling charm on the road, for Baist was more than a three-day trip but we made it in one. When we came to the city, I was enthralled with the quaint and beautiful scenery. Unlike Nihill, the town’s shops and cottages were decorated with brightly painted windows and trellises with wildflowers. A sweet aroma of baked goods hung in the air, and I leaned out of the carriage and breathed in the fragrant scent. A sigh escaped my lips as I fell in love with the city. Even the girls selling their wares in the streets had ribbons wound through their braids and stitched into their aprons and skirts. Such a simple design but present on every door, window, building, and article of clothing.
Looking down at my own dress, I wished there were an array of colors on my skirt as well but knew Mother would call it foolishness. My dress was fine the way it was. A decoration would not hide the heavily worn and thinning fabric—only magic could.
The city was at the base of the mountains, the palace farther up the trail surrounded by woods and a mountain range. The farther from the lively city we traveled, the heavier my heart became. The path was dark and gloomy as we traveled up the mountain until I could behold the palace.
Palace was a misnomer, as it was more like a stronghold. Tall walls surrounded it, but beyond the walls were woods filled with mists, and I wondered what creatures lived within. I shivered, pulling my cloak closer to my chin as we waited at the gates for the guards to let us pass. They weren’t going to until Mother used her compulsion on them to open the gates and we entered. I turned in the carriage and watched the iron gates close behind me, wondering if it was to keep people out or in. Thankfully, once we were inside the courtyard, the morning sun began to rise and the mists dissipated, showing the beautiful landscaping and gardens.
Our arrival at the palace came with much grief. When we stepped out of the carriage, we were quickly swept inside and out of sight. Pity, for I had wanted to spend more time looking around. When it was made known that we were here to speak with King Gerald, we were first laughed at, but then my mother held up a letter sealed in wax with the king’s signet and the laughing