| |
––––––––
SARENA REGARDED ME solemnly and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have already tested the bounds of my oath as a seer. It would be reckless to tell you any more.”
My heart sank. “Not even a name?” I glanced desperately at Theo. “There has to be something else.”
“That is as much as I can give.” To Sarena’s credit, she appeared truly chagrined. “I know you’re in a difficult place, Your Royal Highness. I wish I could help in a more tangible way. But you must try to understand—it could be devastating to allow you to see too much. And we both know the stakes are high.”
Yeah! I wanted to shout. Yeah, they’re super freaking high! Which is why you need to cut out all this cryptic stuff and just tell me what’s going on! Earth-Amber might have said all that out loud, to the immense detriment of the whole situation. Fortunately for me, some of the royal etiquette coaching had started to stick, and I kept my mouth shut.
Besides, I couldn’t deny that she was right. And I had so much more than myself to worry about now. Evrion being lightyears away didn’t make it any less my responsibility. So I wiped the desperation off my face and just nodded.
“I understand. Thank you for everything.” Inside, my emotions stayed at a rolling boil, but I kept my composure. “I’ll take it from here.”
“I wish you nothing but the best of luck, Princess Ambrose.” Sarena’s grip tightened on my hand. She looked deep into my eyes, and for a brief moment, I felt as though she was searching me for something, sweeping through my whole being with her sixth sense. As quickly as it arrived, however, the sensation passed. She let go of my hand. “It is nearly time for me to go.”
Her comment made me realize that I had no clue how much time had actually passed. We could have been sitting there for ten minutes or ten hours, and I would not have known the difference. When I glanced around at our surroundings, the light falling across the gazebo seemed not to have changed much since our arrival. The whole situation was surreal.
“Of course. Please don’t let us keep you.” My tone was gracious, but I was actually equal parts devastated and anxious for her to leave. It was hard not to be let down by the stark reality of how little I’d learned. And yet, her one truth bomb changed absolutely everything about my current life—again.
Assuming it was, in fact, true. A shadow of skepticism remained in the back of my mind. Watching her prepare to reopen the door and step through, I had some regrets about not being more prepared to ask for proof of her otherworldly abilities. Then again, there was a pretty high chance Theo wouldn’t even have allowed such blatant questioning of his lover, and I didn’t want to offend him.
“We will meet again, Your Royal Highness.” Sarena rose to her feet and led the three of us back over to the round table. Without thinking, I placed my hands in the same position as before. She smiled. “Perhaps you ought to think on what I’ve said about choosing the mystic’s path.”
Even though I smiled back, some deep-seated instinct advised me not to respond. Instead, I observed Sarena and Theo exchanging a goodbye kiss. In the next instant, he laid his hands on the table and plunged us back into the same strange, liminal space.
This time, I was back in the corporeal world almost before I could comprehend what had happened. The closing dimensional door left a weird, resounding echo that was more of a feeling than a sound. I opened my eyes and peered around the interior of the floating gazebo. Nothing was amiss; there were certainly no signs that anything mystical had taken place.
“So?” Theo’s voice, smooth and steady as ever, grounded me. “What do you think?”
I turned to him. “Of her, or of what she said?”
“Either.” He grinned. “Both. She’s remarkable, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is,” I agreed. “Which is why I hope you won’t take offense to my honesty. Because I really do think she and her brand of magic are incredible.”
“By all means.” Theo came around to my side of the table and offered me his arm. “Shall we take a walk? This area is powerful; it’s not suited for leisure.”
I followed his lead. “I take it the rest of us mortals aren’t encouraged to sit around near those doorways if we can help it.”
Theo chuckled. “More or less. The chances of something negative happening as a direct result are probably slim, but...” He hesitated. “Some people have superstitions about mystics, seers in particular.”
“Oh, really?” I did my best to act casually interested, rather than like I was scavenging for any extra information I could get. “Like what?” Seeing the expression on his face, I added quickly, “For curiosity’s sake, Theo. I’m not going to judge.”
He sighed. “I admit I worry about how others think of her. Not least because of our entanglement.”
I tilted my head. “Do they say bad things about seers?”
He frowned. “The prevailing sentiment among naysayers is that divination and the practice thereof brings about misfortune. Sarena and her sister mystics are revered by some, but they have also faced more than their share of abuse and ridicule. There are communities who hold the belief that those who possess her gift of sight are omens of darkness to come.”
“Wow.” I whistled under my breath, a decidedly unladylike thing to do. “But obviously you don’t share those beliefs.”
“Of course not.” He looked at me. “I brought you to Sarena in good faith. I don’t think she can do anything other than help.”
“Right. And I trust you.” I dropped my gaze to the path we walked upon. “I just wish she could have spoken a little more freely. It’s like, she hit me with this huge, earth-shattering revelation, and now I have nowhere to put it.”
“That’s fair. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting her to say something of such great consequence.”
“You don’t think she was holding out on me, do you? Like, she could’ve said more, but she chose not to?” As I spoke, I sensed that the line I didn’t want to cross drew nearer. The last thing I wanted was for me and Sarena to be enemies in Theo’s mind.
“No,” he said firmly. “She didn’t explain it well, but all divinators are beholden to strict rules regarding what they can and cannot divulge. All it takes to brew disaster is the wrong person knowing too much.”
I chose not to tell him it was a concept thoroughly explored by thriller movies on Earth. And it wasn’t that I necessarily disagreed. I just wanted to know the identity of this other Cavelon.
“I guess that means there’s no chance she might be convinced to tell you more in confidence,” I said.
“Absolutely not.” He spoke in such a way that I could tell he’d read my mind, and I was immediately flooded with guilt.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even insinuated that you would try to trick her or get her to break her oath. That’s not what I want at all.” I stopped walking. Theo stopped beside me. “I just want to know, that’s all.”
A shadow passed across Theo’s fine features. “You know,” he said slowly, “it’s uncharacteristic of her to reveal half-truths at all.” The shadow lingered for a moment, then brightened. “I’m sure she was only eager to help. You’re something of a celebrity to those familiar with your kingdom.”
“I’m either a celebrity or a wanted fugitive,” I remarked wryly. The comment made my thoughts turn inward, toward the ongoing struggle of being a royal unmoored from my land. I thought of my court as well, fleeing the occupied palace to come to Talyad and make do in a foreign palace.
Suddenly, a bolt of inspiration struck. I gasped.
“What is it?” Theo’s brow furrowed with concern.
“No, that’s it!” I clutched his arm. “I know exactly what to do.”
“Do you? I’m impressed.” He said something else, but I was only partly listening. My attention had moved to the future, to the next time I’d have an opportunity to meet with Daria.
I needed to know when Graeme would arrive in Talyad—if he hadn’t already.
