one. And the greatest danger came from the water spirits.
Was that the enemy we were facing now? Still searching for answers, I dipped back into the diary.
I asked why the Others would want to hurt us. After all, we’re their descendants—their own kin. Auntie Rose doesn’t really know. All she could tell me was that centuries ago the Others decided it was a mistake that any of their kind had ever bred with humans. They made it their mission to destroy us. And they were powerful enough to twist the songs of Wild Magic and use them to lure Chantresses to their deaths.
But the Chantresses fought back.
First, they stopped practicing Wild Magic. Then they created the stones to deafen us to it. Auntie Rose says it was Melusine herself, the great Chantress who was raised in the world of the Others, who worked out how to make the stones. She invented Proven Magic, too. (Which means she’s the one to blame for all those safe songs I hate so much.)
But even the stones and Proven Magic weren’t enough to hold back the Others. They kept finding new ways to attack us. So the Chantresses had to strengthen the wall between us.
The wall. My heart beat faster.
Auntie Rose says there always was a wall between the worlds, but it waxed and waned with the seasons. If you were clever and you timed it right, you could get through. But the Chantresses made the wall so strong that the Others couldn’t cross it anymore. Even Chantresses couldn’t pass through it. Ever since then, we’ve been sealed off from each other.
When Auntie Rose told me this, I was delighted. I thought it meant that Wild Magic was safe now.
But Auntie Rose looked very stern when I told her this. “No, no,” she said. “Quite the contrary. Chantress lore is very clear on that point. The wall can’t be broken by the Others, or by ordinary humans, or even by Proven Magic. But it can be broken by Wild Magic. I don’t know exactly what kind of Wild Magic it would have to be, but I do know that the Chantresses back then feared it could happen by accident. And they decided we must all avoid Wild Magic forever. So you must stop, Viviane. Not just for your sake but for us all. If you break that wall down, then there will be nothing to stop the Others from rising up against us . . .”
I stopped reading. Heart pounding, I went back again to read the last few sentences.
Was Auntie Rose right? Was it possible for a Chantress to break the wall between the worlds by accident?
If so, then maybe we really were at war with the Others. And maybe the person who had broken the wall—the person who had let them through—was me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
KEYS
I turned back to the diary, desperate for answers. Could I really have taken the wall down—and not even known it?
My mother’s account of the conversation with Auntie Rose ended there. Maybe something had interrupted her as she’d written? I scanned the next pages quickly. It seemed my mother hadn’t been sure whether to believe what Auntie Rose had said about the wall, but for a while she’d stopped working Wild Magic—
Was that a shout from below? I broke off from reading. Yes, and now quick footsteps . . .
Apprehensive, I shut the diary. As I stood up, Gabriel dashed in, breathing hard, his dark eyes alarmed. Barely stopping to touch my hand with his ring, he beckoned me forward. “I think we’d better go, Chantress. There’s trouble outside. A mob. They must have heard you singing.”
How loud had my song been? Truth to tell, I had been too entranced to notice. Such a stupid mistake. “Where are they?”
“Banging on the windows at the back, trying to break in. They’re too afraid to go around to the front, because that’s where the river is. So we’d better go out that way ourselves. It’s our best chance.”
Even from here I could smell the river’s magic. Was it really wise to go rushing out toward it? “Couldn’t we just stay here?”
Gabriel shook his head. “If we do, we’ll be trapped. The water’s rising fast. We really need to get out of here now.”
“Just give me a moment.” I reached around to put the diary into my sack.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“My mother’s diary.”
His eyes flared with interest, and I wished I hadn’t been so frank. I wasn’t ready to share the diary