Page 8 of Stolen Magic

A wicked grin tugged at the corners of my mouth as the spell’s true intentions settled into place. This castle wasn’t my final destination, merely the doorway to an unforeseen opportunity that could lead me directly to the heart of Eldoria under the innocent guise of servitude.

Calculating satisfaction eclipsed my initial frustration with the spell’s outcome. This chance was even better than I could have hoped for. My magic had created an ideal scenario, and I meant to seize it.

I’d heard whispers about the upcoming nuptials for our kingdom’s sole princess, but poverty and starvation had kept me occupied with survival rather than royal gossip. The rumors took on new meaning now that they were connected to the golden opportunity I’d spent years seeking. I tried to piece together what facts I’d gleaned through the whispers bartered back and forth at the market, but all I could recall was the general dissatisfaction that our kingdom had been forced into a position to connect ourselves with the very tormenters who had necessitated the drastic alliance between our royal family with theirs.

The fate of our princess had never been of any real concern to me, but her upcoming marriage to Eldoria’s crown prince was the only path currently available to me to infiltrate the enemykingdom. I was momentarily awed by the opportunity the spell had created.

My hand reverently curled around the pouch containing the magic I’d painstakingly gathered, eagerly awaiting my next instructions. The ease and efficiency created with a small portion of magic and a few selected words extended beyond my expectations.

Despite my efforts to preserve my precious memories of Mother and the spells she’d shown me, they had dimmed with time; what I could remember had been tainted by a child’s limited understanding that blurred and obscured the details, as if trying to view them through a rainy windowpane.

No wonder magic was such a coveted resource, and why Eldoria had gone to such drastic lengths to obtain it. This same desire burned within me, an unquenchable force. With a single taste of the power that was meant to be mine I wanted more,neededit…and I would go to any lengths to acquire it.

Cloaked with this determination, I approached the guards with a feigned timidity I’d often practiced in the village. “Excuse me,” I began, my voice quivering just enough to seem nervous but earnest. “I heard mention of a position for a handmaiden? I’m currently seeking employment.”

Despite their recent worry that the important unoccupied position wouldn’t be filled, they exchanged a wary glance before one leaned forward, a hint of warning in his expression. “I wouldn’t recommend it to the most desperate. My role allows me to overhear all manner of information about Eldoria, all of which only confirms it is no place I would willingly choose to go, or wish on any maiden from this kingdom.”

I lifted my chin and evenly met his gaze. “You underestimate the lengths the truly desperate are willing to go. Whatever unknown dangers might lie in wait are nothing to the ones I am leaving behind.”

He hesitated a moment more before heaving a conceding sigh. “Very well.” He motioned for me to wait while he conferred with someone inside.

He was gone nearly a quarter of an hour before he returned and beckoned me to follow. Myst accompanied me, her body taking on a shimmery quality that rendered her invisible to outside observation…save for a faint feline outline only discernible in the sunlight, making her as transparent and elusive as her name. Though I was able to track her movements—perhaps because of the magical connection between us—it was plain that no one else was aware of her presence.

We passed under an archway opening up to the royal grounds and paused near the back entrance. The guard lowered his voice. “Keep your wits about you; it’s a different world in here.”

I glanced at him in surprise; after a decade of the world’s indifference to my plight, I was unaccustomed to someone—especially a complete stranger—caring about my future. Yet his words, however kindly meant, were ultimately misdirected. With my plans, such a warning was far more befitting for the court once they realized who they had let inside their walls.

I was directed to a kitchen, abustle with preparations for the evening meal. The guard instructed me to wait near the entrance while he approached a dumpy, middle-aged woman with streaks of grey mingling with the flour dusting her hair. He spoke in a low murmur and tipped his head towards me. She paused in directing the scullery maids in order to glance my way.

After giving me a once over, she wiped her flour-coated hands on her apron and approached, her gaze sweeping from my worn shoes up to my hair that had surely looked neater before the long hours of trekking through the forest. I fought the urge to pull my cloak over my scarred arm, reassuring myself that theconcealing salve along with the extra glamour I’d added in case of any magical prying eyes would be more than sufficient.

“I hear you’re inquiring for the position to serve as a handmaiden to Her Highness?” At my nod, her look became assessing. I shifted, suddenly afraid she could sense my ill-intentions or the magic I kept hidden.

I suppressed my anxiety and straightened, doing my best to appear confident. “I deeply admire Princess Gwendolyn and would be honored to serve her. I promise to do so faithfully for however long she needs me and wherever she may go.”

The head servant’s eyebrow arched but her expression remained impassive, leaving me unsure whether my attitude had earned her respect or if my behavior was too brazen for that of a demure servant; perhaps her suspicion would have been best tempered by a show of meekness.

“You seem to be stronger than you appear at first glance, a necessary trait considering the nature of the position to which you’re applying.”

I released a quiet sigh of relief. Given the guards’ earlier conversation I had hoped courage in the face of what this post entailed would work in my favor, a gamble I was grateful had paid off.

The head servant suddenly leaned forward almost conspiratorially, as if inviting me to share in her confidence. “I know it’s not my place, but I have deep reservations about this marriage. The princess is such a kind, gentle soul. To think she’s being sent off to a place such asEldoria.” She shuddered. “It’s plain her parents are none too pleased with it either; the queen hasn’t cried so much since Eldoria first attacked. I reckon they didn’t have much of a choice, just as we didn’t have a choice but to give up all of our magic in the first place.”

I doubted she would speak so out of turn under normal circumstances; she’d likely climbed the servants’ ranks throughkeeping such opinions to herself. The air tingled with magic, revealing the presence of my spell acting as a puppeteer to momentarily take over her sense in order to provide me with the contextual information I needed to move forward; what I did with this intel remained in my power.

I smiled encouragingly for her to continue…an invitation she unconsciously seized, unaware that the conversation had been magically orchestrated. “Politics aren’t the place of a mere servant, the complexities of alliances and contracts far beyond my understanding. Yet with our kingdom’s magic all but depleted and Eldoria’s growing forces, even I can see that such an arrangement is a matter of survival…and yet I worry for the dear princess. The one thing that puzzles me is what Eldoria stands to gain from allying themselves with a kingdom they’ve already ravaged.” She blinked in a daze, as if only just realizing how much she’d spoken out of turn. “Forgive me, I’m not sure why I spoke of such things.”

I saw my opening. “It’s understandable. As the head servant you’re unquestionably loyal to the royal family. Princess Gwendolyn’s circumstances are truly difficult, made all the more tragic considering she lost her original handmaiden so suddenly.”

As I hoped, my gentle prodding encouraged her to continue, allowing me to extract more of the information she normally kept tucked securely behind her guarded demeanor. “Indeed. Her original handmaiden has served Her Highness for most of her life. It’s quite strange how someone who’s always been healthy could catch an unknown ailment so suddenly last night that no one knows what it is or how to treat it. She has been sent home to recover, leaving the princess distraught on her behalf.”

I was certainly to blame for this tragedy. The conscience that even my harsh circumstances hadn’t fully killed prickled, but not enough to penetrate the heart that had become hardened pastany feeling beyond my own selfish ends…or at least that’s what I tried to convince myself. In truth her fate bothered me, yet I had no choice but to continue forward, trusting that my spell wouldn’t harm the poor servant beyond her illness. I reminded myself that my goal to restore my magic and bring judgment on Eldoria would be for the benefit of all Myrona, along with the other kingdoms Eldoria had plundered.

Perhaps when all of this was over and magic was once more fully at my disposal and I could afford the high price of my moral compass, I could visit this unintended victim of my schemes and mend this wrong…but only after I’d acquired what I desperately needed. Even with this empty reassurance, it took considerable effort to control my guilt towards the unfortunate servant girl, but the emotion wouldn't stop me from seizing the coveted opening her illness had created, no matter the cost.

I assuaged my discomfort by reminding myself of the guard’s attempt to dissuade me from the position. Perhaps by causing the illness, I’d inadvertently saved the girl from a terrible fate in Eldoria. I knew it was unlikely, but after being the victim of uncaring cruelty I didn’t want to do the same to others on my path to justice.

I hoped the head servant would elaborate further, but whatever force had encouraged her to talk seemed to have finally been expended. She proceeded to determine whether my capabilities were suitable for the position for which I was applying. I presented myself as a humble, hardworking girl from a distant village, leveraging my fabricated backstory to gain sympathy and avoid suspicion.

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