road, when we ran into a group of monks.”
“You’ve seen this before?” Aunt Moriah asks.
“Yes,” Shadow says. “We had a scuffle with some—well, we thought they were Deersia guards—but it turned out they were Aphrasians. They captured us when we were fleeing Deersia.”
Shadow’s mother stirs from her perch in the sitting room.
“And while we were trying to escape, I used some of the energy conjuring you taught me . . .” She is speaking so fast she nearly trips over her words.
The aunts look at each other and smile proudly.
“But it ricocheted back at me. Knocked me out. When I came to, I noticed the guard had some kind of shield sewn into his vest. But it wasn’t normal, not made of metal. It looked almost liquid, except it was definitely solid. It looked exactly like that.” She points to the box.
Now the aunts exchange a wide-eyed look of alarm.
“We were hunting with the duke when we found another piece,” Cal adds. He examines the shard in its case.
“It is obsidian,” says Aunt Moriah. “An ancient and very powerful substance. It can do many things—strengthen the magic of the one who wields it, and keep one safe from outside magical forces.”
“And the Aphrasians have it,” says Shadow, her face paling.
“So that’s what they were doing back at the abbey,” says Cal.
“Exactly, and this also explains why they’ve suddenly gained so much power after lying dormant for so long. We think the ore was discovered there, possibly when they were building a new vault or something of that nature. The Guild believes the hills at Baer are full of it. Only exactly how deep or where or even how to extract it, we don’t know. Yet.”
Shadow sips her tea. “When I was at Baer,” she says, taking time with her words, “something odd happened. It happened once there, and again when I touched the floor of the great hall at Deersia.”
“When were you at Baer?” Moriah asks, almost shouting. She stops herself, takes a breath. “You know what, never mind.” She waves her hand in the air.
“What happened, child?” asks Mesha.
Shadow looks at her aunts. “I had a vision—but it was more than a vision—it seemed like I was actually transported. The first incident was at the tree . . . I went back in time and witnessed the end of the Battle of Baer.”
Cal sits back and crosses his arms. Why didn’t she tell him this before? The aunts gasp. Shadow’s mother inhales loudly, as if bracing herself.
“The second, at Deersia, wasn’t nearly as disturbing, but I saw it when it was brand-new, a thousand years ago. Omin of Oylahn appeared to me.”
Aunt Moriah turns to the sitting room and nods to Shadow’s mother, a look passing between them.
“Did the mage say anything to you?”
“‘Follow your path,’” says Shadow.
They are all silent for a moment.
Cal breaks the silence. “So the Aphrasians not only possess the scrolls, but it appears they now have a powerful magical weapon as well.”
“Exactly. It is even more vital we uncover the Montrician conspirator and eliminate the threat,” Aunt Moriah says. “What have you found so far?”
“The duke and duchess are imposters,” says Cal. “We believe that they murdered the real duke and duchess more than twenty years ago. Or at least, the duke did; the duchess is quite young . . . or merely looks it.”
The aunts nod, and Shadow’s mother leans forward. So this is the great Guild spy Shadow told him about.
“We have no evidence that the duke is working against the Renovian crown. However, we do believe the duke is a mage,” he says. “But is he Aphrasian? That we do not yet know.”
Everyone gathered at the table ruminates on this information. Shadow looks nervously at her family; Cal can tell she’s worried that they won’t allow her to help him finish their work. But her aunts only sigh, and make no move to reprimand or order her to stay.
“There is a plot to assassinate