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Thicket’s chest caved in on itself. “She—”
She cut off as a bartender came over and wordlessly placed two cups in front of them. Alouette immediately took a sip. Thicket reached for the cup and gave it a sniff. Her nose wrinkled at the sharp sting of vinegar and set it back down.
“How did you escape the palace?” Thicket asked. If Alouette knew of a way out, maybe it could also be a way in.
“I was never truly in any danger. How could I be with the color of my fire? I stayed only to try and gather information. I had just learned all I could when some sort of commotion broke out in the Phoenix Sanctuary. I used that opportunity to slip right out.”
“You mean that garden?” Thicket asked.
“That was you?” Alouette asked, dumbfounded.
“We were trying to rescue you. Elian found a secret passage that led right to it.”
Alouette drummed her fingers against the table, humming with mild intrigue. “Tell me, Thicket,” she asked. “Why are you going to such lengths to procure Dymree’s army? Why not just go to Minloc yourself? It seems far more efficient.”
Thicket picked at the seared fabric of her tunic. She had healed the burn on her arm, yet her clothes still bore the mark of their skirmish. “I’m not like you. I haven’t spent my whole life preparing for this. If I face my sister alone, I know I’ll lose.” She pinched her lips together, stiffening at the realization of what she had revealed. She had gotten used to everyone knowing about her lack of memories and had stopped watching what she said. Would Alouette still want to support Thicket now, knowing she was just putting up a front? Would she withdraw her alliance—and her friendship?
Alouette waved a hand. “I know all about that,” she said, as though reading Thicket’s mind. “How the sleeping curse stole your memories.”
“You—you know?”
“Of course I do. I have eyes and ears everywhere.” Alouette leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “What I do not understand is why. Curses don’t typically operate like that. They are similar in a way to spell alteration. Only instead of using another spell to influence it, they use the life-force of their blood. If I had to take a guess, of the thirteen natural elements the sleeping curse would most likely fall under time. Memories, however, are a separate element, which makes me question whether your curse was somehow tampered with.”
“You know about curses?” Thicket asked.
A smile curled at Alouette’s lips. “Of course I do. I consider it a bit of a hobby. Besides, when people find out it makes them fear me just a little bit more.”
The way she moved. The way she spoke. Even the way her mind worked. It all felt strangely akin to Lavender. Was this what her sister could have been like had her parents chosen her to be queen instead? Thicket shook the thought away. “Do you know where my sister could have gotten the curse?”
If she knew, maybe Thicket could figure out how to break it and sever the connection they seemed to share.
“It is hard to say,” Alouette said. “Curses pop up here and there, spread by word of mouth. She could have learned it by talking to someone who dabbled in curses. Or…” Alouette tapped her lips, an interested gleam entering her eyes.
“Or what?”
Alouette took another sip from her drink. “Every kingdom has their own beliefs about the divine forces that preside over our world. If I remember correctly you Vindryans believe they are a part of the land, reusing the magical energy released upon death to fuel a never-ending cycle of life. However, this stemmed from Malont’s original belief that when we pass from this world, our souls are taken to Menheir, the land of the mist, by the Soul Siren. Each soul is then put through a trial to determine whether their soul is pure. Those with pure souls are reborn, their magical energy taking on a new shape. Those with corrupt souls, however, were forced to remain in Menheir to fuel the divine spirits. It is said that is where curses are born.”
Thicket had heard of the Soul Siren and Menheir only one other time.
“Your Record Keeper,” Thicket said. “It mentioned something similar.”
According to the Record Keeper, the Numyna were responsible for creating prophecies. The owl also mentioned a sort of test, one that if passed, would grant the user whatever their soul desired.
If Alouette’s story was true, that would mean prophecies and curses came from the same place.
Alouette laughed. “You actually managed to get it to tell you something? I have been trying for years.”
“It wasn’t me. Elian was the one who bartered with it for information.”
The owl struggled with the same blurry vision Elian did. In return for the information regarding the Numyna and their prophecies, Elian had promised to help the owl see. Thicket had no doubt he would make good on it.
“Ah, Elian. Such a shame. He would have made a very interesting ruler. Though perhaps he will have a second chance.” Alouette gave Thicket a knowing look, one that sent guilt knotting in her stomach.
You don’t have to be considerate of me, Thicket. We aren’t together, remember?
Thicket wrapped her hands around her cup, watching the way light from the tavern’s sconces bounced across its surface. When they had first decided to be friends, Thicket still harbored hope they could find their way back to one another. But during the past few days, something had broken between them. Where Elian’s thoughts used to be easily accessible to her, they were now as blurry and disjoined as his vision.
She didn’t know what to make of the way he kept pushing her away. It seemed as though he was determined to prove something. To himself, to her, she didn’t know.
