Page 40 of The Edge of Darkness

“I don’t know. They were wearing a dark, hooded cloak. Whoever it was had already negated the wards. They ported away the moment they saw me. I assumed they thought I was one of Killian’s guards. My wings were glamoured, and I had my swords—an easy misjudgment to make in the dark. Regardless, they left the chamber wide open, so I didn’t hesitate.”

“Old Magic,” Aremis said.

I turned toward him. “You think someone used Old Magic to break through the spell Killian had around the chamber?”

“I don’t think, I know.”

“He’s right,” Niall said, seeming to come to the same conclusion Aremis had. “When we were at Killian’s mandatory dinner, Vanir suggested Old Magic had been used to bypass the wards . . . And Ramil had been quick to shoot down the suggestion . . .”

“He was missing for a large portion of Lumeri,” Aremis reasoned. “It had to have been either him or his advisor.”

“Ferhan,” Niall concluded. “Makes sense either way.”

Aremis met Silas’s gaze. “You intervened at what seems to have been the perfect time. If the relic had fallen into Ramil’s hands, we would all be in a very different predicament right now.”

“Just doing my job,” Silas said.

“So I have a Dionach, we have the talisman of Lyceius, the prince isn’t the same as he once was, and the queen—” I stopped myself and glanced at Silas before speaking any further. He gave me a nod, leaving me the choice of whether or not to bring Aremis into this.

“And the queen is a witch,” I finally finished. “Why do I feel like this is suddenly happening all too fast?”

Aremis narrowed his eyes in confusion. “I’m sorry, did you just say the queen is a witch?”

“We’ll explain that later,” Niall said.

“Right . . . Well, in the meantime, we need to keep that safe,” Aremis said, nodding toward the relic.

I stared down at it. “How?”

Niall leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, holding the band up in front of him. “My mother was particularly skilled with glamours. She glamoured this entire Keep one evening, after an argument she had with my father. When he tried to port back after leaving in a fit of rage, he couldn’t find the place at all. It was as if it no longer existed.” He chuckled to himself. “All that to say: I’m not called ‘Lord of Glamours’ for nothing.”

“I’ve never heard anyone call you that,” Remic stated flatly.

I nearly laughed. “It’s a term of endearment from dear ole Vanir.”

“And a true one at that,” Niall tacked on. “What better way to hide something than to conceal it as if it didn’t exist in the first place?” He waved his hand over the talisman and it vanished from sight.

I put my hand in his open, empty palm, feeling nothing but calloused skin. “How did you⁠—”

He clenched his fist and rolled his wrist, and the talisman appeared in his grasp once more. “That’s a proper glamour,” he said smugly. “Most can cast a simple glamour—it’s quite easy to do. But to truly conceal . . . that’s another thing entirely.”

I touched the talisman to make sure it was actually there, and it zinged my fingertips. With a gasp, I yanked my hand back, but I instantly had the urge to touch it again—to snatch the band right out of his grip.

My power stirred and whirled within me, opening an eye to see what had summoned its attention.

I was now wholly attuned to the relic’s presence. It seemed to be calling to me . . . begging to be claimed . . .

I wrung my hands together, ill at ease.

“What is it?” Niall asked.

“It feels . . . alive. Like it’s pulling at my power.”

Niall eyed the talisman warily, as if it were sentient. Then, he slid it into his own pocket of space.

I shook my head out, no longer feeling the pull deep within. “That was strange.”

“Just confirmation that it will answer to you when the time is right,” he said quietly.