Page 62 of Ruby & Onyx

As far as I know, they have yet to determine who hired the assassin. Nearly every second I stay here, my fear of facing another assassination attempt grows. With that single action, the assassin obliterated any remaining illusion of safety, even with the invisibles close by. Maybe Carcera was right for creating the barrier. Maybe life without such protection isn’t worth the fear that comes with freedom.

I keep trying to distract myself from letting those thoughts consume me by focusing on the prophecy, but that ushers in more anxiety. Only three days remain until the ball. Three days to cast the spell that will allow me to see the invisibles. Three days until Guylita helps me understand what gift I possess.

Oh, gods. That’s not enough time.

Sir Magis hasn’t come close to providing anything of worth. Our lessons this week were filled with failed experiments like producing animation charms and protection spells. I nearly succeeded with the latter, but my protection shield broke with the launching of a pig’s bladder filled with water, which exploded in my face and prematurely ended our lesson.

I hope that this recent string of failures is just a byproduct of my focus being elsewhere. If my failures stem from anxiety, then that’s something I can deal with. But what if I don’t have any special powers? What if these “gifts” aren’t what they expected? What if I’m worth nothing at all?

“Were you able to locate the spell?” I ask Sir Magis in our Wednesday lesson.

He replies, “It’s more complicated than I anticipated, but fear not. I will prepare the necessary ingredients before our lesson tomorrow.”

“What do you mean by ‘ingredients’?” My knowledge of magic may be limited to what I’ve been exposed to over the past couple of weeks, but I’ve never heard of a spell requiring ingredients. Every spell I’ve cast so far derived from my thoughts alone. No ingredients, no incantations, just focus.

“This particular spell calls upon all three corners of magic - the visceral, the physical, and the incanted. The ingredients will be used to create a potion for you to consume while speaking the incantation and navigating the spell in your mind. I happen to be a bit of a… pioneer when it comes to this subject,” he says with haughty confidence, though it inspires quite the opposite in me.

How am I supposed to pull this off when my magic is novice at best?

“This will work, won’t it?” I need it to work. My future depends on it.

“The best outcome will be that the invisibles appear corporeally before you and no unintended side effects latch on instead.” He shrugs in what seems like a deflection.

Cautiously, I ask, “And what would the worst outcome be?”

“The worst… well, let’s not worry about that.” His dismissal hardly instills confidence.

“I would like to know what risk I’m taking.” I stomp, which sends a radiating pain through my sore legs. Olly had me running short sprints between barrels until I nearly collapsed. I suck back the pain, doing my best to maintain a stern, demanding expression. “What would happen if the spell goes awry?”

“Well, there aren’t many recorded cases of the spell going wrong due to the nature of it. Most who cast it remain rather hush-hush. Thus, the only stories you hear are unverified rumors.” He folds his arms across his chest, leaning back onto the desk.

“What rumors would those be?”

“Well, one courtesan is rumored to have lost her eyesight. A fisherman lost a limb. A teenager lost her life. But all of these are unverified rumors that needn’t concern you. Alternatively, it’s more likely that someone concocted the rumor as a way to tarnish another’s reputation. There’s no evidence to suggest an inkling of truth to the rumors. What I know for a fact is that Lady Liliana survived it. And you will too.”

Considering that we now have a mutual vested interest in the success of this spell, I suppose that he wants to try it as much as I do. Except…hang on. Did we agree that the spell had to be successful for him to redeem his favor? I’m not sure that we did. But if I were to die, he would never have the opportunity to collect. If I were simply maimed or injured, however… I shudder at the thought.

How could I have been so stupid? I should have stipulated the agreement upon the success of the spell! Little did I realize that I could be throwing my life away. If this backfires, then I will be the most foolish woman in all of history.

He seems to notice my hesitation and adds, “Don’t worry. I will practice on someone else before we try it on you.”

“Who would allow you to try this on them?” I nearly choke on the words. Surely nobody would willingly offer themselves up for this.

“There are plenty of subjects who would love to have the same freedom as you.” He folds his arms across my chest and gives me a look of warning.

Who would be willing to test out a spell where the potential side effects are endless, the most humane of which would be death?

“Where do you find these subjects?” I ask nervously.

“They’re prisoners.” His lips curve into a terrifying smile that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Prisoners?” How does Sir Magis have access to prisoners? “Where is the prison?”

I don’t like the way that darkness seems to shroud him as he answers, “There are two prisons in Mendacia. One, the better of the two, is a two-day carriage ride to the west. The other, made for an unlucky few, is here.”

“Here? As in, inside the palace?”

“Not exactly. They live so far beneath the ground that they’re closer to the center of the earth than the palace,” he says.

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