Niece.
The woman in front of me smiles softly. There is a warmth to her that reminds me so much of my mother.
They look alike, even though this woman is far older, the beautiful creases of her face like the wrinkles of a rose petal.
I can see my mother in her.
I can see myself in her.
My great-great-grandaunt.
Her yellow eyes shift to focus in on Nox and she pulls up her sleeve to reveal a small insignia on her wrist. A sword wrapped in a serpent. I recognize it as our family’s crest, the same one my mother draws on those who die in the Festival before she siphons their souls into the king.
“I hear you’ve been looking for me,” Lady Eldara says to Nox. “You and your father too.”
Nox’s breath catches in his throat, like a fish caught on a hook.
“It was you,” he says.
His voice is heavy with something like hope, or excitement. Silly things only a fool would feel with death on the horizon.
I don’t care who she says she is, there’s an army ready to kill us at this woman’s command.
“You’re the sword of the Southern Isle,” Nox says.
“Wait, she’s the sword?” Micah says, voicing all of our confusion. “How does that make sense?”
“The magical weapon I’ve been looking for isn’t a thing,” Nox says. It’s like a light brightens in his eyes. He gestures toward the sword on Eldara’s wrist. “It’s a person.”
I don’t like the way he looks at her.
It’s dangerous, showing every vulnerability he’s always worked so hard to hide before. Everything I know of my family says they’re not to be trusted, so if this woman is telling the truth, that only makes it worse.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” I say. “Isolda Somniatis killed you.”
Her sister. My great-great-grandmother.
“And yet here I survive,” Lady Eldara says. “Using the last sparks of magic my sister couldn’t take, so I can empower Polemistés and fight against a king of souls.”
“We were told that Isolda drained your magic,” Irenya says. “It’s the story all of us hear as children.”
Irenya moves to my side and I can tell she’s trying to gauge how I feel, but truthfully I don’t know. The only family I’ve ever known is my mother. We were supposed to be the last of our line.
Everything about my life has been made of lies.
“Isolda took most of my power,” Lady Eldara says. “But I still have enough in me to do some good.”
I wince at the word good.
Eldara has stayed hidden safely here, protecting Polemistés from the king, but she did nothing to protect our family from him.
To protect me.
A sad smile makes its way onto Eldara’s rosy lips. It’s as though she knows just what I’m thinking.
“Come,” she says gently. “We have much to discuss.”
She heads inside the forge and gestures for us to follow. She glides as she walks, feet slipping across the stone floors as she leads us to a small room away from the furnaces and metal workers.
If it were up to me, we wouldn’t follow her anywhere, but Nox is practically racing after her. He can see the end of his battle for vengeance in whatever she has to say, and I’m not going to leave him alone with her.
I don’t trust her enough for that.
The room we settle in is bare, the walls made of brown stone with nothing but a handful of wicker chairs inside, and a circular table that sits across from a small fire. There is a teapot brewing beside it.
“You’re right to be cautious,” Eldara says as she sits down on the chair closest to the fire.
Lucian hovers by the door, keeping a watch on us.
He’s protective of his queen.
“What do you know of me, niece?” she asks.
I wish she’d stop calling me that.
“I know the same story everyone in the Six Isles does,” I say. I don’t take a seat with the others. “King Seryth was a warrior who fell in love with Isolda Somniatis, and together they decided the rulers of the Six Isles were unjust and unworthy. So they killed them. First the queen of Thavma. Then the rest, siphoning their powers and their souls.”
Condemning the world, though the king likes to speak as though he was righteous.
“As you can see, they did not manage to kill me,” Eldara says. She pours herself some tea. “But do you believe that if they had, it was because I was unjust?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“That’s smart,” she says. “All the world is a lie. It is only ever what we wish it to be.”
I stiffen as Eldara holds out a cup to me. I squeeze my fists together and Nox must notice, because he stands and his hand moves closely beside mine. Not touching, but letting me know he’s there. Making me feel safe again.
“What really happened during the True War?” he asks.
Eldara places her cup carefully down and sighs. “Years ago, the king of Polemistés was chosen by who was the strongest warrior,” she explains. “One of those warriors, Seryth, was mighty and powerful, but even he couldn’t defeat the king. So he left in search of magic to bolster his strength and make him worthy of the crown.”
It’s not the story I’ve heard, of the noble warrior who set out to save the Six Isles from the terror of the witch queen, but it is far more believable.
“He came to Thavma and there he found my sister.”
Eldara’s voice turns mournful.
“Isolda felt she would be better placed as ruler and that with all the power our land had, we should have conquered every island there was. She couldn’t understand why our people used our powers selflessly or why I taught peace. Isolda wanted more. She was hungry for it. So she and Seryth made a deal to combine their strengths and conquer all.”
I take this in.
Her sister betrayed her, stole her throne, and burned it to ash, and yet she looks sad instead of angry, as though the thing she regrets most is that she couldn’t save Isolda from herself.
Did I have the same look when I jumped from the castle window and left my mother behind?
“Seryth and Isolda tore through Thavma,” Eldara explains. “She siphoned the life and magic from every witch on our lands, into herself and Seryth, until they were bursting with power.”
Until they made sure that Isolda was the only witch left in the kingdoms, I think.
Our family. Our blood.
Leaving us alone with the power to rule.
My family’s past is steeped in death and betrayal. Isolda turned on her sister, just like my mother turned on me.
That’s my legacy: greed and deceit.
How do I fight against a past as powerful as that?
“But when they attacked Vasiliádes, Seryth and Isolda were drained in the battle. Weakened, Seryth pleaded with my sister for a way to have truly everlasting life. With all the magic of Thavma lost and her own power dwindling, there was only one way. My sister siphoned the power of the Red Moon itself,” Eldara says. “That is how her spell survives after her death. The magic feeds from the moon and with that the souls are bound to Seryth for eternity.”
Eldara shakes her head, like she wishes she could talk her sister out of it, even now.
“In order to remain immortal, Seryth must devour one hundred souls each year,” Eldara says. “He can only do so during the month of the Red Moon, when Isolda’s spell is renewed. The souls must be tied to him, and so you collect hair. It’s also why he allows people who survive the halfway mark to escape the bargain; because one hundred souls are all he requires for immortality. He acts as though he is generous in letting them go, but it is all simply a ploy to make people think they stand a chance at survival and encourage more to come to the next Festival, so he will always have souls at the ready.”
“What about stealing his immortality?” Nox asks. “The bargain states that whoever survives the month can take his power for themselves. Is it true?”
“Yes,” Eldara says. “It’s not just that you are bound to Seryth, but that he is bound to you. If he does not devour a soul tied to him, then the bargain is broken and Isolda’s spell will transfer to you. That is the weakness of my sister’s magic. And the arrogance of Seryth that he would reveal it, believing it could never be possible.”
“So if Nox survives the Red Moon, the king dies?” Micah asks.
“Indeed. The Festival is Seryth’s salvation, but it can be his undoing,” Eldara says. “We must keep Nox alive until the Red Moon, whatever the cost, so that Seryth’s immortality will be stripped.”
I cross my arms defiantly over my chest. “I was doing that long before you asked me to.”
Eldara nods. “Because you have a gift that none who came before took advantage of,” she says. “The magic my sister used was a pollution of Asclepina’s powers. It started to drain her own life force, and so she vowed that when she died each generation of her bloodline would continue to draw souls to preserve Seryth’s immortality once they turned eighteen.”
Though her voice is soft and delicate, Eldara’s words are a cutting reminder that I’m cursed.
“She bound us to him,” I say, my heart heavy. “What gift is that?”
Eldara’s face softens, as though she’s sorry she can’t share my fate.
“You are not yet eighteen,” she says. “You are not bound. You are free and that is the greatest gift.”
I hate how sure she sounds when she says it, because I have never been truly free until these past weeks with Nox. My life until then was a prison under the pretense of destiny.
“My magic is old and tired,” Eldara explains. “I’m not long for this world and so it falls to you to take my place and help Polemistés fight, Selestra. Like mine, your magic has no allegiance to him. So you must be the one to destroy him.”
“Me?” I ask, stunned.
Though I want to help Nox’s quest, years spent in hiding must have truly addled Eldara’s brain if she thinks I’m capable of taking on the king and his armies.
I came to Polemistés to escape a war, not lead one.
“You will rule in my place as queen,” Eldara declares. “You were always destined to be my heir, not Seryth’s. After you defeat him, you will take the throne and—”
“Wait, stop,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “I came here to find freedom, whatever that means, but you can’t just task me with destroying my home and killing a king who has imprisoned the world for a century. I’m sixteen years old,” I remind her. “I don’t know the first thing about war or being a queen.”
Eldara’s smile doesn’t slip from her face. “It is your destiny,” she says. She looks to Nox. “Both of you.”
“You want me to be your queen too?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Aren’t you here to fight?” Eldara asks, growing impatient. “To battle for vengeance and free the Six Isles in the name of your father?”
Nox eyes her with mistrust. “How do you know that?”
“Visions run in the family,” Eldara says. “Now we have much to do before the battle comes. The trials, for one, will be a great challenge when you’re so unprepared, but I’m sure that—”
“What trials?” I ask, cutting her off.
“The trials you must face in order to earn the true wisdom of our goddess, Asclepina,” Eldara announces. “Every past queen has taken them. I shouldn’t be surprised your mother wouldn’t have mentioned them, but they will help you unlock your true power and inherit the essence of our goddess. It will aid you in the fight against Seryth.”
“Wait, slow down,” I snap, holding up a hand. “I can’t even float a paintbrush without getting a nosebleed, let alone face magical trials.”
“That’s only because you aren’t practiced,” Eldara tells me. “You have not been taught the right way. I suspect you’ve been siphoning power from yourself, when really you should have been siphoning from the world around you, like your mother surely does.”
“From the world?” I repeat.
I blink as I take in what she’s saying. Suddenly it all makes sense.
That’s the reason I could throw the soldier from Garrick’s ship and how I managed to float the butterfly away from the whirlpools: I siphoned power from the wind. But when I tried to float the paintbrush, I was drawing from inside myself.
That’s why it weakened me and why I’ve been getting nosebleeds and why healing Irenya took so much out of me.
I was siphoning off my own strength for her.
Why would my mother hide this from me? Why wouldn’t she want me to know the truth about what my power could do?
I know the answer as soon as I think it: the king.
He didn’t want to be outnumbered. Heirs are so much easier to control than true witches.
“We don’t have long,” Eldara tells us. “Nox’s time is ticking away and death is impatient.”
“So no pressure, then,” Nox says.
He gives me a teasing smile and I want to laugh, but inside I am shaking. I am withering with the weight of this new responsibility.
“There is little more than a week until the month is over,” Eldara says, unamused. “If you survive past then, it will undo my sister’s magic. Seryth cannot risk that and so he will attack us with all he has. If Selestra faces the trials, she’ll be given enough power to stop him before he can kill you.”
My head spins with the weight of what she is saying.
I meant it when I told Nox I wanted to help change things, but having an entirely new destiny thrust upon me isn’t what I had in mind. Just a few weeks ago I thought I was destined to steal souls at the king’s side and help trap the Six Isles in death. Now I’m on an island of warriors with a runaway soldier, being told that it’s my job to lead them all into battle and destroy the kingdom I was once supposed to preserve.
“I need time to think about this,” I say.
“Very well.” Eldara nods. “But we don’t have long and you must complete the trials before Seryth attacks. Take comfort in knowing that this is your birthright, Selestra.”
It’s no comfort at all.
I want to ask Eldara how she can be so sure that I’m worthy of such a destiny, without even knowing me. If the king has taught me anything, it’s that someone should earn the right to rule, rather than having it handed to them, stealing it through lies and brutality. The last thing the Six Isles needs is another leader who doesn’t deserve it.
Even if I could lead, why would they want to follow?
Eldara’s frown grows deep, as though she can sense all my doubt and hesitation.
“Please, Selestra,” she says. “Without you, Polemistés will fall.”