Page 18 of Tanglewood Magic (The Three Sisters 2)
He nodded. “We should eat.”
She grinned at him. “I’m still getting used to the local ingredients, but I think you’ll enjoy it.” She pulled some cubed elderbeast out of the icebox, along with an assortment of roots and vegetables, and tossed it into her cauldron. Shoving a log into the belly of the stove, she used her wand to ignite it and swung the pot over the fire.
“Can I help with something?” Rhys asked softly.
“No.” She smiled at him, casting a spell into the cauldron to accelerate the cooking. “It practically cooks itself. Wine?”
He took a seat at the table. “Please.”
“Do you want to know what kind I have?”
“Doesn’t matter. After tonight, I’ll drink anything.” He stared at the ceiling, looking miserable.
She popped a cork and poured a glass of deep red. “What’s bothering you? I sense it’s more than just what happened in Paragon. You bristled when Tavyss suggested trying to change the law.” She handed him the glass.
He sighed. “I’m a simple man, Circe. A healer and apothecary. I don’t know anything about politics.”
“But?”
“But I don’t think Tavyss appreciates how bad it would look for him to become king then return here to rule by Medea’s side. Darnuith has always been ruled by a single monarch. Even if he calls himself her consort, it will be viewed by the people of Darnuith as if she is a sock puppet for Paragon. They’ll never accept it.”
She sighed. “I never thought of it that way.”
“I’m afraid the only thing Medea can do to avoid war with Paragon is to step down.”
“Or put on a show of force so powerful Eleanor, Brynhoff, and the Council of Elders have no choice but to change the law themselves.”
Rhys sipped the wine she’d poured for him, looking contemplative. “You said she had a book powerful enough to do so. What did you mean by that?”
No one had ever sworn Circe to secrecy about the golden grimoire, but she hesitated. It was never a good idea to flaunt power. She’d only mentioned the book in the carriage because she trusted Rhys. The fact that Medea and Tavyss hadn’t corrected her or made any indication they wanted her to keep it a secret from Rhys meant they trusted him too. Still, how could she explain it without scaring him away?
“I’ve told you before that my sisters and I were born in the Garden of the Hesperides, Hera’s garden.”
“Yes.”
“Our father is a descendant of the sorceress Medea, and our mother is a descendant of the goddess Circe.”
He choked on his wine. “Sorry. Did you just say you are the descendant of an actual goddess?”
Circe nodded. “When we became young adults, we quickly exhausted the magical knowledge of our parents, and so we cast a spell to conjure a more powerful teacher, specifically a book that could teach us what they could not. We conjured Hera’s golden grimoire.”
This time, Rhys carefully placed his glass down, the liquid in its belly rippling until he pulled his trembling hand away. He kept his face carefully impassive, but his voice was strained when he asked, “Hera, as in the queen of the gods?”
Circe nodded. “That’s why we came here. Hera can’t set foot on Ouros thanks to an ancient celestial law. The book is ours. It came to us. We earned it.”
His throat bobbed on a swallow. “Where is this book now?”
“Medea wears it around her neck. We spelled it into a diamond she had mounted on a chain so that she could carry it with her always.”
His eyes narrowed. “I thought its glow was exceptional.”
“That’s because it holds the power to flatten Paragon’s mountain to dust.” Circe scoffed and crossed her arms. “So, you see, there is no need for Medea to bow to anyone. She’s been kind thus far, reluctant to exercise the full power at her disposal. But now they’ve pushed us too far. She needs to retaliate.”
His face fell. “But people would die.”
“Paragonians will die because of their cruel and heartless queen.”
Rhys’s eyes narrowed, and the look of disappointment on his face cut to the bone. “You can’t mean that. They’re innocent, Circe. They didn’t choose Eleanor. She claimed the throne by blood.”
