Page 124 of The Starlight Savior

But they were running out of space.

They needed to either begin negotiating with Nasala to transfer refugees to their border village of Nical or Brevil. Saige betted on the former.

Carlena raised a small hand. King Vospella nodded in her direction. “I propose we speak of the manner of the mist and the location of where we begin healing. I fear we are wasting time, pushing back the inevitable. The kingdoms will begin to fight for land, and Opela will be submerged.”

“You speak bold words,” Queen Vospella said slowly, “but they are true. We continue to evacuate west, but what will that do in the end?”

“Have we decided on a trigger point?” General Zathos asked, eyes pinned on the map. “Sydera’s land?”

The king’s hand looked down at his own parchment, messy handwriting scrawled on the edges. He pointed to the eastern islands etched in red. “These are inaccessible. With our findings of how the mist alters creatures of all kinds, it would be a great risk to send Lady Nerestel there. We would have to target another area of Opela.”

“How could her healing properties stretch across Opela?” Queen Vospela murmured with furrowed brows.

“What did Maester Tobin say?” Carlena asked with a wave of her hand. “Harnessing it into something tangible to travel like the mist?”

Saige didn’t remember such a thing discussed, but much of the councilroom meeting was not understood. Sometimes she wished she could debrief with someone, but no one had the time to slow down for such miniscule things.

“Has she practiced that?” General Zathos didn’t acknowledge Saige’s presence at the end of the table.

“Have you?” Queen Vospella met Saige’s gaze.

“I-I…uh,” her voice faltered, “can you explain further?” She steadied the shake in her words. Now she really wished she had been paying attention.

General Zathos looked to the king for confirmation. He gave him a curt nod. “I suppose we have a moment to discuss. We believe the mist is a tangible representation of the consequences of broken wards. The act of using ancient magic disregarded the natural workings of Opela and defied the deities. It’s become evident that fighting against it requires similar magic. But we’d also need something equally as tangible. It has spread too far across Opela to simply parade you around and use up your magic.”

“So,” Queen Vospella continued, “you must forge it into something physical. It will take a great deal of power, which is why Maester Tobin has been scouting for others that may be able to assist or boost your power.”

Saige thought of Ameris’s book, the way Cecilia had demanded her starlight sisters to join her. Even with the witch’s blood, Cecilia burned out. Decayed before Tiranos’s eyes.

“What would that look like?” Saige asked.

“It depends entirely on the magic-wielder,” General Zathos explained. “Most magic shows up as their given affinity. But this mist, it is entirely different. It has become its own entity, its own element of sorts.”

“And so this…tangible form of magic,” Saige said slowly, “it would need to flow throughout Opela. Since the mist continues to grow.”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” Saige drummed her fingers against the table. Her mind was moving faster than it had in days, absorbing every question formed. “So ideally, if the mist moves from east to west, my magic would move west to east. But Brevil and Nasala still refuse to take part in this.”

“Until the mist and all the refugees show up at their borders,” Carlena spat.

Saige looked down at the map, her fingers trailing over the splotches of ink. Each day, the handmaids updated them to reflect an accurate depiction of the land. More and more red was scribbled in, a handful of circled villages from where Etrane led the rescues. Oceans, rivers, and lakes were marked in deep blue. Saige’s finger trailed across the river that flowed through each kingdom in Opela. The water she used to grow the plants had been gathered from there. Where Cecilia had knelt with her blood, breaking down the ancient wards.

“What of the river?” Saige pointed to the map where the river sat between the Redolf Mountains, Silva’s Forest, and Tiranos.

“What of it?” the king inquired.

“If magic flows through the river and runs through all four kingdoms, could that be our trigger point?”

The king’s chair creaked as he sat back, eyes narrowing. “It is a thought.”

“Wouldn’t we need to be at the western mouth, Your Majesty?” the king’s hand asked with a quizzical look.

“There are currents that travel up and down the river, aren’t there?” Saige asked.

“There are,” the general said. “I’m sure there is another scroll highlighting the currents for travel. A mortal map of some sorts since Brevil refuses to use magic.”

“So if my”—Saige paused on the words—“entity of a cure was to travel through that river, it could realistically travel across Opela and even towards the islands through Tiranos.” She pointed to the far right of the map.