Page 51 of Minor Works of Meda

“Not all of it,” I admitted. “But enough to understand. It was broken by a blood sacrifice. The missing princess.”

The man’s eye shut, turning the picture in the bowl dark for a moment. Then he looked back at the councilor. I watched her chest swell with a deep breath.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Meda. I studied—we studied—with Mistress Eudoria.”

“And you claim you can understand—”

“She understands it,” Kalcedon snapped. “You have to get word out. To all the royal houses.”

“Who is that?” the woman asked.

“We already have,” the Order witch interrupted. His voice was grim; I couldn’t see his expression.

“You knew?” I blurted, unable to help myself. My head spun, wondering if someone at the Temple had already known about the workings of the Ward. If somehow…

“We guessed,” he corrected. “The princess went missing—then the King of Nis. Both stones… and now nobody can find the second prince of Buis…”

“Buis,” Kalcedon whispered. “Buis. They’ll take down Buis…”

“Is it that fae with you? That… one Eudoria raised?” the Order witch asked.

“He’s here,” I said. “But I’m the one who translated it.”

“Go to Buis. Stop them. Figure out who’s doing this,” the councilor commanded.

“We will,” I agreed. “But you need to find Oraik. He was headed—”

Kalcedon abruptly dropped the spell. I stared into the empty bowl a moment longer, where the tiny vision had given way to slightly ashy water. How could he be lazy enough to drop it at a moment like this?

“Truly?” I complained. “Cast it again.”

“I don’t think you should tell them where he is. We don’t know who’s doing this.”

“But it’s the Temple.” I looked up at Kalcedon. His brow was furrowed. He stared at the empty bowl, thinking, then shook his head.

“Still. If you’re the only one who knows where he is, I don’t think you should tell.”

“But somebody has to find him.”

“We can look for him after I get back from Buis.”

I didn’t like it, but for a moment I ceded to his logic: if we could find who was behind this at Buis before they made the next sacrifice, we could put an end to it for good, which would keep Oraik even safer than a bodyguard would. But then his words sunk in.

“After you get back?”

“You aren’t going to Buis,” Kalcedon said sharply.

“But you heard her. They’ll be there. Whoever’s doing this.”

“I know.” Kalcedon leaned forward to grab my shoulders. “I can go faster without you. And it might be dangerous.”

“You shouldn’t be alone. You’re not that good a caster. And if people see you…” A thousand protests sprung into my head. Kalcedon was too cold; he’d been casting too much. He’d just been injured; what if the healing wasn’t good enough? And somebody ought to be watching his back. That somebody was me.

“Enough, Meda. You aren’t safe with me near you. Go to Nis, alright?”

“I’m not going back there,” I informed him.

---