Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,16

spell always came with that faint aftertaste of char, while one built with poison felt syrupy-sweet.

But this was horrid magic; there was a faint metallic aftertaste that told her this had been configured to track people using only a drop of their blood, but that discovery was overshadowed by a stinging, painful sensation, like her tongue was being slashed by a thousand ice-cold knives.

Tala doubled over and spat multiple times, frantically trying to flush the memory out of her mouth.

“Anak,” her mother said disapprovingly.

“Sorry,” she choked.

“I’d be angrier that you were reckless, but I’d say that’s punishment enough.” Lumina popped open a small compartment underneath the barrel, a grim look on her face. “Tita. Kay. This is no ordinary spelltech.”

Tala managed a quick glimpse inside before her mother closed it again; it was filled with faint white crystals, all crushed nearly into powder and shining brightly.

“We might have to rethink our protection detail, and whether Invierno is as safe as we think it is,” her mother said tightly, her anger apparent for all to see. “Not all spelltech comes from Avalon patents. These aren’t powered by glyphs, but by shardstones, and the only person with a constant supply of those is the Snow Queen.”

Tita Chedeng and Tita Teejay gasped in unison.

“Punyeta,” General Luna muttered again.

“But she’s dead!” Tito Jose signed violently, making cutting motions in the air with his hands in his agitation.

“Impossible,” Lola Urduja hissed, angrier than Tala had ever seen her.

“It’s possible that the government has gotten their hands on Beiran spelltech independent of their ruler, and it’s horrifying to think that this is the best-case scenario we can hope for. The UN hasn’t lifted their ban against Beira, but if the Royal government has been conspiring with them to gain this spelltech, then this is going to be a political nightmare for everyone involved. The queen only offers shardstones to those who have already pledged their loyalty to her. And if she’s alive, then this is too much of a coincidence for her not to know where we are or who Alex is. Those young Banders better arrive soon, Tita. The sooner we get the prince out of town, the better.”

* * *

The number of videos responding to Miss Hutchins’s had risen from twenty to at least two hundred—opinion pieces mostly, but a few attempted to be informational, often touching lightly on the topic instead of directly referencing the teacher. Tala ignored the obvious conspiracy theory ranters but clicked on a few other links out of curiosity.

The I Was Today Years Old When I Learned podcast was the first to get her attention, talking about some of the history of Avalon, particularly its castle, Maidenkeep. “What not a lot of people know is that the castle may itself be spelltech,” the host cheerfully informed her. “Legend has it that it’s powered by a device they call the Nine Maidens that serves as a control booth of sorts. Now, nobody but the Avalonian kings and their counsel know what this contraption actually does, much less what it looks like, but theories of it vary, ranging from the ability to levitate and steer the castle the way a helmsman would a Federation starship, to controlling most of the kingdom’s weather, to just a really advanced smart-home automation system that would make OzCorp’s virtual assistant Ruby seem primitive in comparison.

“The most popular theory is that it’s on autopilot. Historian Justina LaConda says the Nine Maidens might have been configured to automatically defend the castle from most attacks at some point in history, mainly from the kingdom of Beira, Avalon’s natural enemy. (Incidentally, did you know that every queen in Beira assumes the name ‘Annalisse’ upon taking the throne to honor the first ever Snow Queen? Beira also claims their queens are immortal. Either way, not creepy. At all.)

“The problem is that nobody—nobody—knows how to change the settings, much less understand the full extent of spells contained within it. Popular legend has it repelling sieges and physical attacks, putting out fires and preventing floods, and in at least one story even teleporting the whole castle elsewhere in times of great peril. The sacrifices previous kings and queens have reportedly made to harness its powers directly, however, are horrifying: a lot of mutilations, a lot of madness, a lot of death. So there’s probably a reason why someone was smart enough to keep it on autopilot mode instead.

“Unfortunately, as Avalon is inaccessible to us at the moment, we may never know what