I thrust my hand toward the start of a tunnel. “In mere minutes, two men bored into a mountainside with thoughts. They accomplished something that would take years. If I had this power—if I had even a fraction of it—my family’s home would’ve been different. I could’ve done more. I could’ve been free of them long ago because I could support myself.”
My eyes are burning unbidden. Why does this frustrate me so much? Why do I feel so wounded? Davien just stares at me in that inspecting way of his, making me feel more vulnerable than anyone or anything has before. I look away and shake my head. I’m about to say that it’s all right and dismiss my feelings when his hand lands on my shoulder.
“If you want to do it so badly, then do it,” he says softly. That draws my attention straight back to him and I stare into his emerald eyes. “Right now, you have this power and so much more. If you even drew on a fraction of the power of kings, you would be able to finish the tunnel and its main hall in a blink.”
“But I…” I think of my attempt with Vena and shake my head. I didn’t learn how to repair plaster or mend a roof overnight. I won’t learn how to use magic overnight either. It’ll take practice. “What should I do?”
Davien smiles, genuine, big, and bright. His whole face lights up with excitement. “You’re going to start small. Some lanterns, perhaps?”
“All right.” I follow him toward the front of the tunnel. Oren and Giles are leaning against stones, catching their breath.
“Well done, you two,” Davien says as he picks up the book.
“We’re done for the day now, right?” Giles pants softly. He looks like he just worked an entire day in a quarry. Which quells my frustrations about the “ease” of their building some.
“A bit more.” Davien hands the book to me. “We’re going to do it together, you and I.”
“You could just do it in an instant,” Giles says to Davien.
“This isn’t about me,” Davien says curtly.
“Rare of our lost prince to recognize that not everything is about him.” Giles grins. Davien ignores him.
“Come with me, Katria,” he says. I follow him to the now significantly smaller pile of wood. Davien lays the book out on the ground. “The first thing you need to remember about rituals is that they all require base components. This can be anything from time, to location, to physical objects, to actions you take. The components can be consumed—like the book I used that night in the woods. Or, they can be reused, like those crystals.” He points to the crystals still on posts in the ritual workspace Giles drew on the ground.
“I understand,” I force myself to say, ignoring the reminder of the loss of my mother’s book. But I can’t. “My m—” I almost say my mother’s, but the promise I made to my father to never tell anyone whose book it was sticks. He wanted no one speaking of that book. It was only for us. Unsurprising he never gave it to Davien for so many reasons. “My family’s book, the one you used in the woods, why did you need it?”
He looks uncomfortable. Guilty, even. I wish it made me feel better about him destroying it. But his guilt won’t return what I’ve lost. “It had special magic woven in its bindings. The components of a ritual can sometimes be strange, and not always make sense. But when they come together, the magic is unleashed, and that’s what’s important. If I’d had any other option save for destroying the book, I would’ve done that instead.”
“I see.” Silence passes between us and I push the memories aside. I don’t want to think of the book any longer. It’s gone. What good can come of lingering on it? And, in a way, if burning that book could save an entire people, I’d like to think it’s what Mother would’ve wanted. Davien waits to see what I say next. Determined, I return us to the topic of hand, pointing to the top of the page. “Up here?”
“Yes, these are the components of the ritual.” Davien points to what looks like the ingredient list of a recipe. “Next is preparation. Sometimes, before the ritual even begins, you have to do something to yourself or the components. That’s blank here because this is fairly simple.”
I nod and he continues.
“Then there’s the instruction of how to perform the ritual itself. And that’s it. Fairly simple.”
“In theory, I suppose,” I say, still somewhat uncertain about the prospect of all of this.
“In execution, too. First things first, you need to make these markings on the stone you want to use.”
“What do the markings do?” I ask as I take the paint he hands me and begin copying from the book.
“They attune your magic to the item you’re trying to manipulate. It helps give you control—or connection—with the person or thing.”
“Person, too?” I think of the lines that Vena drew on our faces and how connected I felt to him in that moment.
“Yes. Now, next step is to visualize what you’re going to make. This is why they included the picture with the ritual.” He points to the lantern in the book. “As you visualize, you’re going to say these words and then, when you’re ready, unleash your magic.”
I stare at the picture, thinking about how I would build this lantern… I take a breath and close my eyes. Unleash. I think the command to the magic within me. Make the lantern. My brow furrows. Nothing happens and I feel the same. “Come on,” I murmur.
“Say the words,” Davien whispers at my side.
My eyes shoot open. Oh, right, words. I look down at the page.
“Broken little pieces. Joined back together. Make something anew. That can withstand time and weather,” I say. But still nothing happens. “I don’t think—”
Davien shifts and kneels behind me. His hands settle on my shoulders, running down my arms, pulling the thin fabric of my borrowed shirt in unintentionally teasing ways. His hands layered on mine, he laces his fingers around my palms.
