Page 80 of Wrath of the Never Queen

I draw myself up to my full height—my ophid stretches and uncoils like a cat waking from a long sleep. Hardly breathing, I reach out to my au’mana. It washes over me, warm and welcoming.

My magic has come back.

With shaking hands, I pull myau’mana forward. The purple glow, flickering like fire, trails from my spine over my shoulders and to my palms. I hold my arms in front and let it light my way.

With the help of my au’mana, I eventually stumble upon the edge of Mossgarde. A well-worn jetty dips into the swamp water where two crocas rest. Their protruding eyes swivel in my direction as I clamber onto the jetty, but they otherwise pay me no mind. I retract my magic, using the light of the lamps to guide me instead.

Further into town looms the yellow glow of the public house. I head in its direction, creeping quietly across the wooden bridges linking the platforms. I recall the last time I walked this way, on my way to Aunt Meena’s library to study—when I still thought I was going to Frostalm. Old anger bubbles up like hot tar in my stomach.

This time, when I pass the public house, Ido so in the shadows. I hear the faint rumblings of laughter but nothing uproarious, thankfully. I zip from shadow to shadow before hurrying across the last bridge. I do not stop until I reach Aunt Meena’s library and slam the door closed behind me.

At once, a knife is pressed against my throat. There is no hand holding it, but it glows dark purple, hovering by itself in the air.

“Auntie!” I cry out as loud as I dare as the blade bites into my flesh.

“Shivani?” a familiar voice replies from the dark.

The knife clatters instantly to the ground, the glow evaporating. Strong arms scoop me up as my face is pressed into Aunt Meena’s soft shoulder. I inhale the scent of her. She does not let me go.

“I missed you,” I say, and she replies with a sob.

“Saints, I did not think I would see you again,” she says, pulling back to cup my face. Her cheeks are streaked with tears, and her hair is greyer than last I saw her. “Your father…that cur…”

“It does not matter now. I need your help.”

“Of course, child, of course.”

Aunt Meena ushers me over to a stool while she sits on a stack of thick books. The purple of her wooden leg peeks out from under her skirt as she crosses her ankles. I hurriedly fillher in on the castle, the prince, and the curse. Her frown deepens as I go on.

“It does not sound like any curse I have ever heard of,” she says, and I sigh heavily.

“I know.”

“And you are sure it is a curse?”

“Yes.” I pause. “What else could it be?”

Aunt Meena gives me the same look as when I answer an easy question wrong.

“And what about your au’mana?” she continues.

“It is blocked. Itwasblocked. They drugged me—” My voice catches, and I take a steadying breath. Aunt Meena grasps my hand, quiet fury under her tight features. “They drugged me at first, but then…I do not know. Something else blocked it. This is the first time I have been able to use magic since I was taken.”

As if to reassure myself, I reach out to my au’mana. It hums in response.

“Well, a witch lived there, did she not? Inara’s mother?”

“Inez, yes. Why?”

“Another witch would be the most likely candidate for blocking au’mana,” Aunt Meena says. “Regardless, you have escaped now. We can leave this wretched place behind and never look back.”

She stands up and begins rifling through her things, pulling out books and crockery and stuffing them into bags.

“Auntie, wait.”

“We need to leave before the sun is up, child. Before they realise you are gone,” she says, and then quieter, “We need to keep you safe.”

“Aunt Meena, I need to go back.”

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