said that first. But there have been many injuries and smaller quakes are still occurring sporadically.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“I thought we might go to the North and have a look around.”
“Have there been any flare-ups with the Ebassi forges?” I asked.
Several months ago, there had been an incident at a metal forge in our kingdom. A mage—a Danutian who understands elemental magic in a way that others can't—was brought in to access the situation. He reported that when the element of Fire had met that of Earth in the forge, it had become unbalanced. This created a magical surge that left remnants of wild magic behind—magic which he believed originated with the element of Earth.
And now the Northern Kingdom, also known as the Earth Kingdom for its affinity with that element, was experiencing earthquakes.
“No, the forge has been fine,” Everan reported. “Master Salien is still monitoring it but hasn't noticed any recent imbalances.”
Master Salien was the aforementioned mage.
“So, you want me to check out the North and make sure none of those wild, magical remnants are floating around?”
“I think it would be wise. They have their own mages, but you might be able to see the magic on a greater scale than they can sense it.”
“A greater scale,” I murmured. “You think the whole kingdom has been affected.”
“The earthquake hit the entire kingdom.”
“Yes, I understand your reasoning, I was just clarifying.” I sighed. “Has this ever happened before?”
“The elements turning on us?” Everan asked in surprise. “No. Never.”
“Could it have something to do with the Gods?”
Everan gave me a heavy look.
“That's the real reason you want me to go,” I concluded. “You want me to speak with the Gods.”
“Not exactly,” he protested. “If that were the case, I'd simply ask you to come home.”
“Because all of the Gods live in the South,” I murmured.
The Gods of Danu had withdrawn from their people for many years but they'd come out of hiding for me. There were four of them—one to rule over each element—and all of them had spoken with me. The Goddess of Fire had even given me her sacred necklace, although I had to reclaim it from a human supervillain first. Still, Sairana's Ember—yes, the necklace has a name—was a connection to Danu and held a piece of fire magic inside it. This meant that I didn't have to refuel my Danutian magic through Everan anymore; I could connect through the Ember.
Not that I've ever consciously used Everan in such a manner. He did sustain me once, during the beginning of our marriage, but that was done without my knowledge. These days, I visit Danu often enough that it's not necessary for him to fuel me but having the Ember gave me options in case the need ever arose. It also made me immune to fire. Even though I heal rapidly, I still feel pain and I've been burned horribly three times in my life. Anyone who's been burned knows that it's utter agony and no matter how quickly I had recovered from it, I didn't want to ever endure that trauma again. The necklace—a heavy gold chain with a crimson cabochon the size of a silver dollar hanging from it—would save me from that. As long as I wore it, that is. I shot a guilty glance at Sairana's Ember, where it laid on my dressing table. It's a large piece and wearing it can get tedious.
But back to the Gods. Although each kingdom was aligned with an element and therefore, its god, the Gods had chosen to live closer to each other and since the only ocean on Danu was in the Southern Kingdom, the Gods chose homes in the South. So, if I wanted to talk to Kolltean, my best bet would be to head into the Raeventar Forest, just outside the city of Sylene, which was the capital of the Southern Kingdom and my home when I was in Danu.
“Yes,” Everan said. “But I think we should investigate the earthquakes before we bother the Gods.”
“Probably best.” I grabbed Sairana's Ember and put it on, then set a lid on the bin near my feet—a bin that wasn't even a quarter full.
Packing would have to wait.
Chapter Three
I twisted with Everan to our stronghold in the Southern Kingdom. While I got changed into something more appropriate to my status—a Danutian gown in cherry-red silk—Ever contacted my grandfather using a Danutian comm-screen posing as a mirror. Danutian culture is a fascinating mix of the archaic and