I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve descended to Adalbert’s laboratory. Uriel always warned me away from him, and Adalbert never seemed eager to counter that command.
He always seemed more interested in Heinrich, looking at him almost possessively when those older and wiser than Heinrich and I weren’t looking. As Heinrich’s elder, I forbade my First Valet to ever go anywhere with Adalbert alone. And it always seemed appropriate to obey my command along with Uriel’s.
Now I feel like a hypocrite as I twist down the spiraling staircase into the shadows. Worse, I feel like a coward for ever letting Adalbert touch Elspeth to begin with.
But now she is with Uriel. Why any of this is happening like this, I know not. But mayhap Adalbert will tell me something that will help me sleep tonight after I came so close to everything I ever wanted, only to let it get snatched away from me.
After I saw the betrayal in Elspeth’s eyes as I stood there and did nothing.
Wincing, I almost miss a step, but then we’re at the base of the stairs in the dungeon-like secondary workshop set aside for Adalbert’s studies.
Or at least, I assume it was set aside for Adalbert. After he moved a bookcase in the bedroom-turned-workshop I knew him to have to reveal these stairs, I probably should have hesitated before following him.
Torches of green flame flicker automatically as he walks deeper into the cavern, though their light is not enough to fully illuminate the stacks of strangely humming books and Heavens only knows what else stashed in the corners.
A massive unlit hearth takes up the entirety of one wall, and I am not sure why such a mighty hearth exists in this dungeon, large enough to consume an entire family with flames.
Adalbert is unconcerned with any of these features, though, as he strides toward a workshop table that looks like something a carpenter crudely fashioned to do the dirtier parts of his job upon. However, rather than ordinary tools, it is adorned beakers, vials of red substance, and a looking glass the size of my head.
I move closer to the table, taking in the delicate silver swirls bordering the looking glass, clearly of elvish make. There are scuffs evidencing that it was not recently created. And between the silver and the looking glass is more glass, created for seeing through rather than seeing from. Within this tubular shaped glass circling the mirror is a river of red.
Since this elvish make, I know that red must be blood. Elves and mortals both bear our magic in our blood, but we mortals have all different bloodlines.
My Heritage Magic is separate from all others, shared only by my father, his brother’s son, and myself. It is how my not-so-distant ancestors rose to power, same with the ruling families of other kingdoms, though I still wonder how anyone could think they have Heritage Magic anywhere as strong as my family’s.
Mayhap that is why we rule an Empire and Ehyptio and all the others are only kingdoms.
However, elf, or Kin, Magic, is all the same among their kind, though, and unlike with mortals, all elves bear it. Though, the nobler lines that have better maintained their bloodlines possess stronger varieties. Kin Magic has limitations, though, like it has no power over mortals, just other elves in terms of healing and communication.
However, they have found that if they infuse specially crafted inanimate objects with their blood, they can manipulate them. This looking glass is powerful for whatever use it’s meant for.
“Have you heard of the Chazah Tonic?” Adalbert asks.
“Yes, it’s one of the most difficult potions to successfully craft, but when done correctly, can grant a vision of the future.”
“I crafted one with the blood of your bride-to-be.”
I jolt backward. “How dare you!?” Once again, I reach for my Sun Sword even though it’s not there. I really need to start carrying a dagger on my person at all times.
“My duty to my emperor, of course. I had to ensure that the Blood-Bound bond didn’t unite you to just any she-elf, after all.”
“Do not speak of her so degradingly.”
“You do not know what I know.” Adalbert moves to the mirror. “With your tutor’s help, though, I was able to tie the vision from the Chazah Tonic to this mirror with your lady fair’s blood.”
My stomach roils as I look down at the red river swirling around the mirror. That is all Elspeth’s blood? How could he have done so much in one short afternoon?
How could Uriel have done it alongside him?
No wonder Elspeth seemed so dazed when I spoke to her. Did they steal her memories of our first meeting when they took her blood?
As I stare in horror, the looking glass ripples, as though I am looking into a pond that has had a pebble dropped into it.
Knowing the price this vision took, I try to look away.
But Adalbert commits sacrilege, grasping my head and forcing me to look into the looking glass.
It is now showing a scene so deep I feel as though I am diving into water just to see it.
Then I am within it, completely immersed in the events happening around me.
Elspeth is spiriting me out of Sitzvononne, as a swarm of green-eyed shadows try to smother me.
Then, suddenly, she is turning her back as another army descends, this one barely visible except when the sunlight glints on them just so.
But then we’re back together again, standing back-to-back, waving our blades out at what appears to be estries.
When I blink, though, the estries are gone, and so is my blade. It is her dagger being held to my throat as she lies on top of me, rage in her gaze.
Then the dagger is gone, and she is lying on top of me again, her hands in mine as she appears to be praying over my strangely still form. Begging, really, until suddenly my eyes open and I’m gasping out water.
Not even a second after she’s summoned me back from death, though, I turn to find her standing stoically, her finger pointed outward as if banishing me.
Despite being her emperor, I’m kneeling before her, my hands wrapped around her legs as if clinging for dear life. As if she is my life, and to obey her banishment is to die. I’m weeping into her skirts, a stark contrast to her impassive face . . .
I’ve never been brought so low as am in this moment.
“You must go,” she says, and there is no quaver in her voice.
“It will be worse than death!” I moan.
Her fingers slide through my hair as though she means to comfort me, though no affection or even concern shows on her statue-like face. “Sunset at dawn.”
Her words make the vision flicker. Another scene lies behind this one, revealing what appears to be a rift in reality. It is a tear through which I can see a decayed and ravaged city where my capital, Sitzvononne, should be. I see myself standing on that brink of that rift. Glancing back. Stepping through.
Vanishing forever.
The rift closes, the decaying city is gone, and only Sitzvononne sits in its place, with no Emperor to rule it.
I fall backward. “Sunset at dawn. Sunset at dawn!” Blinking as I take in the dungeon-like workshop I’m standing in, I frown. “Sunset at dawn?”
“And that is why you must not wed Lady Elspeth,” Adalbert says, toying with tonics and vials on the other end of the table.
“Because she will be my destruction?” I whisper.
“And your salvation. Quite a perplexing maiden you’ve found for yourself.” Adalbert plucks up one vial and holds it out to the nearest torch, studying its swirling contents.
“I don’t mind the salvation bit,” I mutter, grasping the table to steady myself as the room seems to whirl as much as the vision was around me.
I glance down at the looking glass, but it has gone completely still, giving no revelation that it is anything more than an elvish antique.
“That’s the part Uriel didn’t mind either. I personally found some offense with it.”
Startled, I glance up to see Adalbert, and I’m even more startled to see that his ever-present hood is thrown off, revealing a startling bald head.
However, it’s his eyes that are more bereft, since I cannot for the life of me find a soul in them.
Adalbert’s bitter smile draws me back to his statement. “You speak like treason.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “You will remember none of this conversation. And I feel rather like a confession would be good for my soul. The bits I haven’t traded away yet, anyway.”
I step back. “Stand down, Sorcerer.”
“To finish my confession, I’m not too fond of your little she-elf being your destruction, either.” Adalbert shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “You see, I always imagined that as my destiny, not hers.”
Reaching up, I grasp one of the torches and yank it off the wall. It immediately goes out, but it’s still a thick piece of wood in my hands. I can use it as a weapon.
“I’m jealous though,” Adalbert adds, stepping closer while still swirling that vial, since my torch isn’t enough of a deterrent for him. “Because I can never destroy you as thoroughly as the brazen little elf maid. It is always the women who destroy the men in your family line, isn’t it?”
I hold my torch stick out at him, considering the merits of exposing my Heritage magic for a better chance at stopping him. “Stay back.”
“Maybe fate will draw you back together again,” Adalbert offers, as if trying to console. “I wouldn’t put it past your Emperor-God to play such a cruel trick on you after you dedicated your entire life to his service.”
“Blasphemy!” I cry, taking a swing.
I contact Adalbert’s arm, but he doesn’t so much as blink, even though it’s a blow that would have knocked Heinrich out of the mock swordplay match for an entire round at least.
“I, for one, am quite curious of the rift from the vision. It will be something to look into, for certain.”
Swinging again, I get his other arm, but he still does not react. So, I go for each of his legs.
Adalbert is barely even looking at me as he continues to muse. “Will you find your betrothed again? Will I find this strange city with stranger magic? I suppose we’ll see with time.” With a dismissive shrug, Adalbert tosses the contents of the vial onto my face.
At first, it is only a shock at the lukewarm liquid suddenly on my skin.
Then it burns.
Keeping one hand on the torch, I use the other to yank my tunic up and use it to desperately wipe away the tonic. Why did I have to take off my veil?
The burning continues, like it’s eaten through my skin and is now gnawing through my mind.
I hear a clatter of something hitting the ground, like a piece of wood. Then my own knees collide with the cold stone. My hand smacks down on something that feels like a torch. Who dropped their torch?
“Good night, little princeling,” coos a voice above me, and I wish whoever it is would pour some water on me to soothe the burn. Or mayhap just take a blade to my contaminated skin.
Darkness closes in, and I curl into myself, trying to escape the pain as if it isn’t already inside me. Only the encroaching shadows at the edge of my vision can save me now.
“It’s such a pity, though, that you never got your kiss.”
Gasping, I do something the Son of the Sun should never do, and submit to the mercies of the darkness.