Page 151 of A Cursed Son

“Do you have any tips? On how I should develop it?” It’s a sincere question.

“You start by identifying your magic slowly, noticing when it happens, what causes it. You feel it first, then you can try to replicate it on purpose.”

I dread even the idea of accepting that I have magic, but perhaps he has a point. “I’ll pay more attention. And you? How do you know about this sanctuary?”

He shows me his right hand. “One of my rings can help me locate… beacon stones. And where they were made.”

I look around me. “Beacon stones? Here?”

“Well, Tiurians made them. You can always find one or two in their ruins.”

That doesn’t make sense. “I thought…” What did I think? Nothing, actually. “I didn’t know about the origins of the beacon stones.”

“What did your Krastel teachers tell you?” His chuckle is warm and comforting, even though I know he’s making fun of me. “That they came to be spontaneously?”

“No. Just that they’re really old. It’s why even inactive beacon stones are valuable, as they’re considered relics of an ancient time. I guess they are.”

“They’re all Tiurian, wife, and only Tiurians can activate them. I’m guessing Krastel overlooked this little fact when they killed them all. Or else they didn’t want more magical stones.”

“Why haven’t they told me that?” The question was more for myself, and yet I’m surprised I voiced it.

Marlak shrugs. “I guess thieves thieve. You can’t steal something and keep claiming someone else made it.” He sighs. “Sorry. I know Krastel’s your kingdom.”

In reality, I don’t know anymore. “It’s fine. I like to learn about the past.”

“You should read the book I left you, then. I’m guessing you didn’t touch it.”

“It says the Tiurians created beacon stones?”

“And some more, yes. I thought you were interested in the fallen kingdom when you asked for the dictionary, but I realize now you just wanted to know what azalee meant.”

I feel my heart pausing for a second. Part of it is wondering if he really doesn’t know what I am, if he didn’t notice I tasted his blood, and part of it thinking about the dreams. “Why are you interested in Tiurians?”

“Where do you think most of the Crystal Court relics come from? Krastelians aren’t the only thieves out there. And Tiurian sanctuaries are great hideouts.”

“We could live in one.”

He nods. “Sometimes I spend time in them, but I prefer the nymphs’ protection and the freedom of the outdoors.”

“I meant in theory. I love the island house. Are we really going to have to leave it?”

He tilts his head, thoughtful. “For now, it’s safe, so we could stay.”

I wish I could kiss him, wish we didn’t have this distance between us. Perhaps most of all, I wish I could have a place I could call home.

He gestures to one of the nooks. “Come. I want to show you something.”

He approaches it, and with air magic, blows away the dust to reveal soft brown suede. Following his lead, I sit on this ancient sofa or bed, where many of my people might have rested, slept, sat, or maybe even made love. It’s so much to take in.

Marlak pulls a strange dagger from his belt, with a black blade and three clear crystals on each side of its silver hilt.

“One of the relics,” I mutter. By now, I should have gotten used to Marlak’s magical artifacts, but the power emanating from this dagger still awes me.

“Yes. Obviously.”

“You never carry it, though.”

“Well, I believe you’ve noticed that I don’t drag all the Crystal Court treasure with me everywhere.”

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