Page 38 of The Edge of Darkness

He didn’t seem bothered by the notion at all, but I was. How could someone know they were approaching death and still greet it with open arms?

It was a human concern, I realized. The concept of accepting one’s death like it was just another stepping stone was something most humans struggled with.

“Do you know when, exactly? Does your wardeness tell you if you’ll die sooner rather than later?”

“No, we do not know when. Some might live only a short while, but others could live out the span of their Dionam’s life alongside them.” His eyes met mine, and when he saw the conflict in my expression, he gave me a consoling smile. “The thought of our death does not concern us. It is a mentality we are born with. It’s all part of a greater plan, and there is nothing we value more than protecting our Dionam. That is what brings us fulfillment.”

“Will you come back again? Once Torin reclaims your spirit?”

He let out a sigh. “There are some who believe that we will eventually return in another form, to continue protecting those that need it. But none of us are truly certain. That is something Torin has neither confirmed nor denied. I believe that we will return one day, in a different life, with another purpose.”

I looked over my shoulder at Remic, but he didn’t say anything. His face was solemn, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“But this is all to say that even though the witches produce Dionach’s, they can also be assigned the protection of one. That is why the queen has Weston. But the queen’s story is a rare one. You see, a witch gives birth to either a male or a female offspring. All Dionachs are male, and thus their fate is set as such. If a witch gives birth to a female, that witchling will continue the witch lineage.

“But every now and then, a fluke in the cycle happens, and a witch gives birth to a female that does not have access to magic. The magic is there within her, but because of some genetic fault, the witch cannot harness it. This has dire consequences because without a way to release that pent-up magic, it will eventually kill its host. Not only that, but the witch would never be able to birth a Dionach or continue the witch lineage, since any offspring would be without magic and would essentially be just human.”

“So, witches are essentially humans with magic?” I asked.

Silas shrugged. “Yes, and no. Torin is not of this world like your gods are. Her magic comes from something other. It’s the magic and the gifts of Torin that make a witch and a Dionach what they are. The females born without access to their magic go on to become maidens of the goddess for what little time they have left, until their bottled-up magic claims their life. They never leave Neveshir . . . until one did.”

“Corinne,” I guessed. “She was born without magic?”

“Yes—a death sentence to any witch. But she grew curious of the world beyond the rocky isles and wanted to see what little she could before her magic took her life. So, she stole a boat, but as she sailed, a storm raged on the seas. Her vessel crashed on the coast of Belthria, and it was fate that ensured the young Prince Broderick was on the docks that day. He came across Corinne amidst the washed-up wreckage and was immediately taken with her.

“She never told anyone who she was or where she came from. The injury to her head made it all the more convincing when she claimed she couldn’t recall much of her past. Rumors spread that she looked awfully similar to a successful merchant’s daughter whom no one had seen in several years, and stories began to circulate that the prince had been taken by the long-lost lady’s beauty.

“She was given a place at court, and taken under the palace’s wing. As time passed, the prince courted her, and the two fell in love. Corinne’s magical predicament had not yet killed her like she’d expected, and when Broderick became king, he asked for her hand in marriage, and the two wed. Soon after, she became pregnant, and unbeknownst to her, the pregnancy changed her from within. The changes that occurred in her body altered the state of her magic, and instead of killing her, it finally manifested.

“After giving birth to her son, she began having visions. She told no one about them in fear that they would think she was ill of the mind, or they would begin to dig too deep into her shipwreck and lack of memory. Instead, she kept the visions a secret, and raised her son, Prince Alston, as best she could, pretending she was nothing other than human. Her son was born without abilities, as expected, but she loved him more than anything. He was her saving grace. But one day, Alston was injured in an attack while hunting in The Great Wood. The injuries brought him to the brink of death.”

I nodded, following the now familiar piece of the story. Everyone in Belthria knew of the prince’s injury. The realm had prayed endlessly for his recovery, my parents included.

“The prince had been in a deep sleep for quite some time when the queen foresaw his death. She saw that he would never wake again. All her visions before had come true, so when the prince woke a month later, she knew something wasn’t right. He had changed in every way but appearance, and she couldn’t figure out why. As time passed, she kept her guard up, knowing all too well that something was wrong. Then, she received a vision of you participating in the tournament. She saw who you really were, even though you had yet to know it for yourself. So, she tasked Weston, her own Dionach, to watch over you while you were at the castle.”

Everything played over again in my mind, and it all started to make sense—the strange looks of concern that the queen hadn’t bothered to hide throughout the tournament, the way she regarded me as if she knew something I didn’t . . .

She had known what I was, and she was trying to protect me.

“During the tournament,” Silas continued, “she received a second vision of me by your side, in a battle, on a gray wasteland, and when she recognized me amongst the competitors in the fighting rings, she knew she needed to get the message to me.

“The evening of the champion’s dinner, she told me to meet her later that night in the gardens. So I did. She explained everything—who she was, what she’d seen. At the time of our meeting, I felt your panic down the bond that links me to you. By the time I arrived at your chambers, you and Weston were already on the run. The only thing I could do was stay behind and keep the king’s guards off your trail until you could get as far away as possible. I knew you’d be safe and that Weston would get you to The Veil. It was the safest place for you.

“I was immediately summoned back to Neveshir where I received additional orders from Nivelle, my wardeness. Once our Dionam is known to us, our wardeness will relay any specific or special instructions. And as it turns out, I had an additional task that came from Karios himself.”

“What was the task?” Niall asked.

Silas reached into a pocket in space like the one I now kept things hidden in. Niall and Remic both shifted uneasily, instantly on defense in case Silas decided to try anything foolish.

“To get into Elandrew,” he answered. “And to retrieve this . . .” He pulled out a golden band about an inch thick. It curved in his grasp, gleaming in the light.

I knew exactly what it was.

The Talisman of Lyceius.

“It was you?” I was half in disbelief and half in awe. “You stole the talisman during Lumeri?”

“I did,” Silas said.