Her smile turns slightly sinister. Still like my sister’s. Still everything I hate and know to be wary of.
She turns to Vena. “Why does this human care so much for our politics?”
“You didn’t answer me,” I say. She was vague at best.
“What I get out of this arrangement is my business.” Allor folds her arms.
“I admit, I’m curious now,” Davien says casually. “What has Vena promised you?”
“Safety here in Dreamsong…and the absolution of my crimes from our next king.”
Davien gives Vena a pointed stare. It seems I’m not the only one who knows how to read him, because Vena says, “Everyone needs something, Davien. And many will be like her, looking to free themselves from their past life.”
“We will speak on this later,” Davien says like a proper king. I can feel his annoyance. If it were me, I would already be giving Vena choice thoughts for speaking on my behalf. But I can also see her point. Thank goodness I’m not the one ruling. I don’t know if I could navigate these types of decisions.
“I think that’s for the best,” Allor says. “They’ll begin to wonder where I am if I’m gone for too long.”
“So what is it we’re doing?” I ask. Hopefully the faster we do whatever it is, the faster Allor leaves. My nerves are still rattling in an entirely unpleasant way.
“I asked Allor to research the ancient records stored away in the High Court for any kind of information on a magical transference. Since she was the one to find out how to draw out the magic of the ancient kings, I thought she might also be the one to find us a solution to this mess,” Vena says.
“And did you?” Davien arches his eyebrows.
“Perhaps…” Allor adjusts her hair, enjoying far too much that she has this secret information and clearly no inclination toward sharing.
“Allor,” Vena says sternly.
“Fine, yes, maybe, I can’t be sure.”
“Incredibly helpful,” Davien says dryly.
“Will you let me just tell you what I’ve found?” She glares and continues. “There are old texts on ‘abdication.’ It only happened twice in the records of the old kings, but it did happen. And when it did, one king would pass on the power to the next through this process. The previous king would draw out their power and store it in the glass crown. Then, when the new king was crowned, the power would flow from the crown to him so long as the previous ruler decreed it.
“Granted, this other person still couldn’t wear the glass crown—that can only be the true heir of Aviness, so long as there is a living heir. It seemed as though it was more safeguarding the powers in instances of an heir being too young to rule. Someone would stand in and then abdicate back.” Allor shrugs. “It’s a bit murky, as a lot of the ancient rituals and their effects are.”
Davien runs a hand through his hair. I can hear him curse softly under his breath. Finally, he says, “Is that all? Are you done wasting our time?”
“I’ve hardly ‘wasted your time.’” Allor rolls her eyes. “I’m telling you that it is possible to get the magic from her and give it to you. You should be falling over yourself trying to thank me.”
“Possible for ancient, powerful kings at the height of their power who possessed the most sacred relic of our people—the glass crown. I still fail to see how that helps us here.”
I’m beginning to realize I need to get to the bottom of everything this “glass crown” can do. Shaye said it commanded loyalty from all the fae. But I’m getting the impression that it’s a lot more than even that.
“It means there’s a ritual designed to move the power,” Vena says. “And we don’t know if the glass crown must be the container that the power is moved in. Or if it can be something else.”
“Of course it must be the glass crown. What else would be mighty enough to contain the magic?”
Vena motions to me. “She is not the glass crown, and the power seems to be residing in her just fine.”
Davien turns to me and his face lights up. My heart skips a beat. No one has ever looked at me that way—like I’m the most important thing in the world. And then, my heart stops, sinking like a lead weight into the pit of my stomach with the realization that it’s not me he’s looking at…it’s the magic in me.
He doesn’t care about you, a nasty voice inside me whispers, not really. When he looks at you he sees the magic. I bite my lip and wish it wasn’t true. But I know it is. Davien’s brow furrows slightly and I wonder if he can read me like I can read him. The notion is as comfortable as crawling through thorny bramble. It prickles my arms and rakes up my spine. I look away and break whatever connection was forming between us.
“We should try,” I say. “The faster this magic is out of me, the faster I can go home.” When I bring my eyes back to Davien’s, he wears a slightly confused and wounded look. I barely resist remarking about it. How can he look at me like that when all he wants is this power? When I am otherwise just an inconvenient vessel?
Vena saves me. “Agreed.” She crosses to me and rests her hands on my shoulders. Suddenly it feels like she’s placed the weight of the world there. “I know none of this will make sense to you as a human. But all I ask is that you continue to open your mind and heart to it. Your ancestors, so very long ago, possessed a magic that was stripped from them when they were left on the other side of the Fade. Perhaps, now that you are here, you can reignite those forgotten powers and let them serve you once more.”
“I’ll do my best.” It’s all I can offer. My gaze shifts to Allor. “What do I do?”
