Page 42 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

“Is that really necessary?” I ask, thinking about how I could just as easily search out the end of the chain without him.

“It will incentivize you.” He smiles that dangerous grin of his again, and I look away, annoyed at his insistence on flirting.

“Get going, then,” I say.

He sidles past me, a low chuckle on his breath as if he’s nothing but amused at my coldness. It makes me feel like he can see right through me. Not that it’s hard. He knows there’s a reason I didn’t protest when he kissed me in my bedroom, why I said nothing instead of telling him off for being so forward. It must’ve been obvious I was dangerously close to giving in to him—how much I wanted to. He believes he’s wearing me down…and I’m not sure he’s wrong.

“See you later,” he murmurs.

I wait patiently until the chain stops moving, which takes a while. It’s so thin that I underestimated just how much of it there was, and it’s not until what must be hundreds of feet later that it finally pulls taut from where I’ve fastened my end to the leg of my work bench.

“All right, Ruskin,” I mutter to myself, closing my eyes. “Ready or not.”

I dive into the pool of my magic, directing it to take hold of the silver and dance along the thread of it, out of the workshop, and down the corridor. It’s as if I can feel the silver in my hands and, in relation to it, the shape of the palace around me: I have a sense of the paving stones, blooming flowers, the arch of a courtyard. I’m aware of them, by texture and sensation, even if I can’t truly “see” them.

Something warm reaches out towards me, and I feel the brush of it around the chain.

“Ouch!”

“Don’t touch it. There’s wards on it. Leave it alone.”

I realize the warm thing was a person—a hand. The voices are lilting—fae—and sound loud enough that they could be speaking right next to me.

I jump in shock, trying to understand what just happened.

Someone tried to touch the chain, maybe a curious servant or courtier. And I was able to hear them, wherever they were in the palace, from where I’m standing.

So I can’t just sense the metal with my mental sight, I can hear and feel whatever happens around it. Now that’s an interesting development.

I feel my excitement building. There’s a kind of exhilaration to getting to test what my magic can do, discovering it’s capable of things I never imagined. When I went back to Styrland weeks ago, I’d believed that I was sacrificing my magic as well as my relationship with Ruskin. Styrland is all wrong for magic, and I’d assumed that what little power I had would eventually dampen or fade from me until it was completely gone. I’d been ready to say goodbye to it—and yet here I am, not just using my power but exploring with it, stretching the limits of what I thought I could do.

I have more energy as I return my focus to the silver, chasing it along the corridors of the palace. I pause when I next sense the heat of people nearby, catching snatches of conversation: servants giggling, a High Fae gossiping with another about someone’s betrothed, a fae child singing in a courtyard.

I stop when I hear a familiar, businesslike voice that I know can only be Halima.

“What else?” Her usual brusque tone sounds so close to my ears, it makes me jump again.

“There’s been some vandalism in the Ambrosia Quarter,” comes a voice with the clipped tones of a soldier. “We suspect seditious Low Fae. Naturally, the former residents aren’t happy about it.”

I realize Halima must be having some kind of security briefing, and immediately feel guilty about eavesdropping. But just as I’m about to move on I hear her mention Ruskin.

“And what about His Highness? Is there trouble or not? Be honest with me, Kellspring. My job is to protect the peace, and I cannot do that without the facts, however ugly.”

“There’s has been some unrest. The operation by Lord Hadeus is helping. It shows there’s ways to fix the iron problem, but many are still talking about Ephor Jorna’s readings. They say His Highness might have brought these attacks on us.”

“That’s as I feared. They’re looking for someone to blame—and he’s an easy target.”

“Do you think we should be watching for escalation?” I hear a note of concern in the soldier, Kellspring’s, tone.

“Don’t worry, I will make sure order is maintained. There will be no rebellion on my watch.”

I feel a little chill at the determination in her voice. I’ve never before got such a strong sense of just how intimidating Halima can be—especially if she sees you as a problem.

They then switch to talking about guard schedules and I decide I’ve heard enough, pressing on. I want to know exactly how fast I can find Ruskin by following the silver. The point of this exercise is to make me stronger, after all, and that will only happen if I push myself.

I start to come up against my limits when I follow the thread of silver beyond the bounds of the palace. I don’t know this space as well, and my awareness feels stretched thin. I fight to maintain focus, concentrating on the intricate links of the silver, which I can almost feel in my fingers: loop after loop, one step after another.

The effort is giving me a headache, but I turn a corner in my mind, into a room I’m not familiar with, and am relieved when Ruskin’s voice reaches me. He sounds angry.

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