Page 52 of Aofie's Quest
I waited for Donia to say more, but she let the silence hang between us, a reminder I needed to think for myself, a reminder I needed to be careful.
Shortly after, I left the Hall of Magic, thoughts churning in my mind. I slipped out the stone door, whispering the spell to close it behind me, and almost ran into an elven warrior. He frowned at me over his sharp nose before placing a hand on his heart.
“Aofie Mor,” he announced. “You have been summoned to the Hall of the Queen.”
Chapter Forty-Four
A strange pricklingsensation went down my scalp as I followed the messenger back into the crystal palace, through the maze of halls to the throne room where Queen Iris held court. During my sojourn in Anon Loam I’d seen the queen many times, and other than her cool gaze appraising me, I had yet to speak with her again. Nor did I want to. At times I wondered if she’d break through the invisible barriers of magic I’d put around me and know I’d snuck out to look upon the forbidden weapon. Even thoughts of it made me shiver, and I banished them, determined not to have a hint of deception around me while I was in the presence of greatness.
She was just as beautiful and alluring as ever. When I walked into her presence, she was much more than I’d first seen. Magic lessons had opened my eyes and the magnitude of her power hummed around me. It was then I understood that her greatness and power did not all come from her, and the revelation made me blink. While Queen Iris possessed great magic, she had the power of transference, which gave her the ability to draw magic from an item—perhaps even a living, breathing vessel—and take it into herself. The knowledge made me shiver, for that kind of ability made one seemingly invincible. Even if she grew weary, she could pull magic from elsewhere to refresh her abilities.
I walked down the hall toward her throne, my back straight, my feet silent in my padded slippers. My skirts swished around my long legs while my heart thumped in my throat. The hall was full of green vines, twisting and curling up toward the domed ceiling. I dared not look at Queen Iris long and tried not to let my thoughts betray me, in case she could read my mind.
“Aofie Mor.” Queen Iris’s voice rang out, and silence crushed the hall.
We were not alone; the court had gathered, small groups standing, watching, waiting to see what would happen next. She rose to her feet, and I bowed, eyes on the floor, breath shallow.
“Rise.” Her voice was kind. “You look frightened.”
Nostrils flaring, I stood tall again. “You summoned me?” The question came out, although I should have said nothing; it was not my place to question a great queen.
She glided from her throne, crossing the room toward me in a gown which glimmered like moonlight and the frosty flakes of snow that still dusted the treetops. “I did,” she confirmed, lifting her chin and pausing just a breath away from me. “It is my intention to meet with those who have come to my realm, however infrequently it is. You have been here for seven moons, which means your training must be nearing an end. Tell me, has Anon Loam met your expectations?”
Although her words flowed sweet as honey, a wariness came over me. “Aye.” I folded my hands in front of me. “I am grateful to have learned magic with the talented mages and found respite from my travels.”
Queen Iris smiled so suddenly it took me off guard. “Is that all?”
“What more do you want me to say?” Immediately I wished the question back in my mouth.
“A challenge, is it?” She cocked her head. “I will not play, nor will I mince words.” She spoke quickly. “Now you understand the laws of magic, and your request here has been fulfilled. It being so, it is time for you to find your place among the elven, to take up a task…unless your sojourn here is finished and you wish to leave?”
She arched an eyebrow, so sweetly, so innocently, and suddenly I understood. Before I’d learned how to use my magic, I was nothing to her, but now, even though she’d let me study magic, we were on more even ground. Still, her years of knowledge and practice would always be greater than my seven moons of study. I was no threat to her, and yet the way she stood appraising me warned me that something was wrong, off.
“I have many questions,” I told her in an attempt to dispel the tension between us with honesty. “Questions that cannot be answered here, which means I must leave and continue my search for answers.”
“Are you certain it is wise to leave?”
I paused, unsure how to answer her.
Noting my confusion, she went on. “My scouts claim the squads of soldiers have doubled, the demons grow brave. Out there is not safe for a young one, especially alone. Your mother—may she rest in peace—would not rest easy if she knew I had your blood on my hands.”
A deep fear twisted within me. Did that mean she would have me stay? For seven months I’d trained with magic, bow, and blade. If she refused to let me leave, it would all be for naught, unless she forced me to join the defenders.
I stilled myself. “I have grown confident in my skills again, but what would you have me do?”
“If you go, you must be protected.” Queen Iris stepped back but did not turn her back on me. “I will discuss with my advisors to see who we can spare to travel with you. For now, you are dismissed.”
I swallowed hard, determined not to let my inner thoughts display on my face. Stepping back, I sank into a bow before turning and striding away, pretending her words did not anger me. The messenger who’d brought me there followed until I was safely outside of the Hall of the Queen. Fists clenched, I moved down the hall, my jaw tight. I wanted to run, to hit something, to scream out my frustration. How dare she threaten me and then treat me like a child? I didn’t need anyone to watch out for me, to follow me into haunted lands, when it was my quest.
When I reached my room, my anger had faded somewhat, and I took a deep breath as I shut the door behind me. I leaned against it and closed my eyes, letting the anger ebb and flow. I’d grown used to Anon Loam, but it was only a resting place, not my home. I would not leave with a solemn ceremony like the sacred sendoff the centaurs had given me. There remained the question of a guide, for I did not know where I was going. I’d explored the edges of Anon Loam, and knew the paths that led into the wood, and that road I dared not travel that led to the Shrouded Gates. But the queen was right—I’d come and dwelled in her hospitality, taking. I was clothed in fine gowns, given delectable food, and allowed to spend my days however I pleased. I was not part of the circle of life that gave back; I did not hunt or weave or teach or grow a garden, which meant I had to find my place or leave.
My heart beat in my throat at the very thought of sneaking away. I dared not think too hard about it, and yet I knew the one thing I wanted to take with me when I left. My breath caught and my throat went dry. Did I dare try?
As I considered my dangerous plan, a light tap came at my door.
“Aofie?”
I opened it with a sigh of relief and pulled Takari inside.
