Page 33 of The Isles of the Gods
Ordinary magicians can only charm one kind of spirit—earth, water, air, or fire. Magicians of the Royal House of Alinor have always been different. And even among them,I’mdifferent. More powerful. I like to annoy my older sisters by telling them it’s because I’m so very good at being charming. Despite the current evidence to the contrary.
“The water spirits love theLizabetta,” I say, as the waves build ahead of us, then come apart in swaths of foam.
As I anticipated, mention of her beloved ship diverts Selly. “Are they different from air spirits?” she asks, turning to study the water with me.
“Yes,” I say, though I have to pause and think about how to explain that difference. “There’s a sort of mischief to water spirits, more energy. It takes a lot of work to direct a breeze, and the way I communicate with air spirits is more solemn. It’s a very politeI respect you.”
“And what do you say to the water spirits?” she asks.
I answer without hesitation.“I love you, you beautiful thing.”
It’s lucky I’m already getting used to that glare of hers, or my veins would turn to ice. “Hey,” I point out. “You asked. And that’s the answer. I flirt with them.”
“I don’t even know why I’m surprised,” she mutters.
“At least it works on someone around here,” I counter, and I swear, for a second I’mthisclose to coaxing a smile out of her. Pretty sure I’m going to be working every minute to the Isles for that—but the irritation is a little less.
“Was it always like this?” she asks, and then, seeing my confusion, clarifies: “You had both types of spirits early?”
“All four types, as long as I can remember,” I say. “I know I started earlier than most.”
You can tell a magician by their marks, which are on their arms when they’re born: a thick green stripe on their skin, running down each forearm to the back of their hand. On a baby, it looks like someone’s taken to you with green paint.
By the time they’re five, a fire will flare when they pass, or wind chimes will gently sing, and a few years after that they’llmanage to charm the spirits for the first time. In that moment the marks change, rearranging themselves into intricate designs that look like tattoos, reflecting the spirits with whom they share an affinity. It’s a day of celebration, the magician’s family throwing a party, inviting everyone they know to admire the new marks. For most people that’s around age eight or nine, and it usually takes them until fifteen or so to truly master their gift.
I’m told I made my mobiles spin above my crib, and splashed my nursemaids with the bathwater before I knew how to walk. My marks were in place before my first birthday, curling and looping all over my chubby little toddler arms. I was apprenticed to the best magicians in Alinor before I could talk, in an attempt to stop me from wreaking havoc.
My sisterslovetelling the story of the time I nearly set our mother’s hair on fire at a court reception when I was five. I’m eternally grateful they don’t know that the earth tremor that left cracks in the palace a few years back was my first kiss. I’ve improved my control since then.
To Selly I say, “The spirits and I, we get along.”
“It’s only fairsomeoneshould like you,” she allows generously, glancing away toward the horizon.
“Look, I think you’re getting the wrong impression—people usually like me very much.”
“Apart from the whole country of Mellacea, who want to kill you, right? Hence the secret voyage?”
“That doesn’t count, it’s not personal.” When I follow her gaze, there’s a steamship, a smudge of dark smoke rising from its funnels. It would be faster than a ship like this, but also a lot less discreet. We decided on a boat like theLizabettabecause they’re so common, always on their way somewhere. The steamships are big, inelegant. No magicians needed to run them, no care or finesse.
“Do you think it’ll work, what you’re going to do at the Isles?” she asks, shifting the subject, and when I glance across again, her expression is serious. More serious than I’d have expected.
Although I said to the crew the royal family weren’t asleep on the job, the truth is Mellacea’s aggression crept up on us. My sister Augusta says she’s been hearing worrying things from the sailors, and Selly’s face makes me wonder what wehaven’theard.
“I know it’ll work,” I say firmly. “It always has.”
She hesitates, then: “You’ll speak to the goddess herself?”
“I hope so,” I reply, and I’m far too smart to make a joke about Barrica. “I know for most people religion isn’t particularly personal. They know Barrica is watching, because they see the flowers in the temple bloom in winter, they see the wells refill themselves with fresh water at the spring festival. They see magicians use goddess-blessed candles as their offerings, though they probably don’t realize no other country has them. Anyway, they drop a coin in the collection plate, they touch the statue of the goddess as they pass by, they hope it’ll help them avoid bad luck. And that’s it, for them. But the Sentinel goddessknowsmy family, and she’s connected to us. She knows me. My sacrifice will mean enough.”
“Whatisthe sacrifice?”
“It’s not much—the real sacrifice is the pilgrimage. A cut palm, a little blood, representing King Anselm’s gift all those centuries ago. Renewing the royal bond with her.”
“And it won’t matter to the goddess that you’re late?” she presses.
“I’m barely late,” I assure her. “I was busy, was all.”
The excuse sounds thin, and that’s because it is. I can still see my sister, wearing her most Queen Augusta expression, glaring at me while her wife, Delphine, rubbed her shoulders and totally failed to calm her down.
