Page 71 of Heart of the Summer Queen

I meet Elaric’s eyes. He gives a slight shake of his head.

Belinda’s grin spreads. I shudder at the glee in her expression.

It’s clear our business here is far from finished. She intends to strike another bargain, likely demanding a steeper payment. Without knowing Isidore’s location, this weapon is meaningless.

Reluctantly, I ask, “Do you know where she is?”

“Of course I do.”

With that, she starts over to the surrounding shelves, rummaging through her collection of jars and vials. I glance at Elaric. Though I want to talk to him about all of this, it’s impossible to have such a conversation from facial expressions alone. And I dare not breathe a single word of it while standing in her home.

“Ah, just what we need,” she declares, lifting a jar filled with orange jelly. Then she continues on, rifling along a back shelf until she retrieves a small metallic object.

“Hold this,” Belinda says, returning to us and holding out a silver necklace to me. Embedded into its pendant is a cloudystone resembling quartz, and it glows a creamy hue in the hearth’s light. With her talon-like nails, she fishes out a long strand of white hair from the jar of jelly.

“A lock from Isidore’s head,” she declares.

Belinda takes the necklace from me and winds Isidore’s hair tightly around the pendant, pulling it so taut I expect it to snap. But then her magic flows from her fingertips, dissolving the hair into an oozing liquid which coats the stone with murky green.

“There,” she says, offering the enchanted pendant back to me.

I inspect it, but the stone appears ordinary except for its change in color. “How will this help us locate Isidore?”

“Dangle it by the chain,” Belinda tells me.

I do as she says, pinching the thin silver links between two fingers. Abruptly the pendant jerks and twists to point toward the kitchen.

“It will act as a compass to lead you to Isidore, wherever she goes,” she explains.

“How long will the spell last?”

“Long enough to suit your needs,” she says.

I press my lips together, wanting more certainty but not daring to push Belinda too far. I don’t want her to snatch back the pendant, infuriated by our relentless requests.

“Thank you,” I say carefully. “And what do you require from us in return?” My fingers tighten around the pendant as I await her response, worrying what she will want in exchange.

“Consider it a gift, along with these.” Belinda returns to the shelves and, after sifting through them, produces two vividly colored vials. One red, one blue.

“They are for you,” she says, handing them both to Elaric, “and you alone. Your wife shall have no use for them.”

The reminder of the marriage Elaric will soon annul steals all the air from my lungs.

I do my best to steady my subsequent breaths, lest Belinda or Elaric notice my reaction.

“What is their purpose?” Elaric asks, inspecting the vials.

“The blue one contains Irremisa. One mouthful will suppress all the magic in your veins. Even your aura will be hidden, preventing Isidore from sensing your power as you approach.”

He frowns. “Years ago I came to you, asking if you possessed such a medicine. You claimed none exists.”

“Medicine?” Belinda laughs. “This is no medicine. It is a poison, used primarily to subdue enemy witches. Suppressing magic comes at a significant cost, and your body will resist its effects, blood boiling in your veins. A wonderful side effect for torture, might I add.”

“The pain would have been of no consequence,” Elaric states. “I would have endured it every day for the last three centuries to be rid of this damned magic.”

“I do not have centuries’ worth of this potion to waste,” Belinda retorts, “and even if I did, no matter how determined you may be, you would have succumbed to madness after suffering its effects for so long.”

Elaric says nothing to that, and though the witch might think him pacified by her answer, I know otherwise. If she’d offered this potion sooner, he would’ve endured any torment for a just one day free from magic—long enough to visit his sister’s grave.

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