Knightfall (Page 21)

Willard’s head poked around the spiral staircase and Quinn yanked me upward once more.

You didn’t answer, I scolded.

How would I know it felt like flying? Unless I felt the same thing.

I was already breathless from climbing. But his answer took my breath away.

Two seconds later, before I could process what anything might mean, we stood in front of mage Wyle’s door. Quinn rapped smartly and then stood aside to let Willard and myself in. I went first, seeing as Willard was heaving like a messenger horse that had rushed down from Macedon.

“Hello, Wyle,” I strode toward Wyle’s project table before he could even take off the oversized goggles and gloves he had on. The table just stretched the limit of my distance spell with Quinn. I reached but couldn’t quite rest my hand on the table.

“Your Highness,” Wyle carefully set down the glowing orange beaker he’d been holding. He pushed his dark goggles up into his skull, which was lined with perfectly symmetrical white braids. His pointed elf ears twitched. His large, almond eyes blinked as he adjusted to the daylight.

“What lovely concoction are you making there?” I asked, nodding toward the beaker.

“Not making,” he sighed. “Extracting. Declan’s asked me to help with research he’s been doing into water contaminants.”

“Oh,” I quickly switched off that deadly boring topic. “Well, if you have a moment, Willard and I would like a thirty-minute mage oath binding.” I turned to Willard. “You think that’s enough time to explain everything?”

Willard, who had bent over and used a table to help support his gasping, just nodded and waved a hand.

“I, oh, well, it’s been some time since … I’ll just need to grab the book, Your Highness. Reference a few things.”

“Absolutely,” I followed him as Willard sunk into a wooden chair by the window. Luckily, the bookcase was right by the door. I heaved a sigh of relief.

Wyle hummed as he looked through his handwritten tomes, until he noticed I was right behind him. “Your Highness?”

I leaned close to him, pulling a book from the shelf to cover my intentions. I flipped the book open to a random page. An anatomical drawing of a penis, with all parts labeled. How fitting, seeing as I what was about to ask Wyle to do. “I want you to lift the spells my mother put on my husbands.”

“All of them, Your Highness?”

“All … what do you mean all?”

“Long life, virility, good vision, safety—”

“Okay, fine. Not those. The one where they have to be within five feet of me. And the one where they can only physically be intimate with me and no other woman.”

Wyle raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

I did not answer. I was not going to explain myself to the castle mage. “This is confidential, correct, Wyle? She still has the spell set on you so you’ll explode if you betray the royal family’s secrets?”

“I—I … she put a spell on me?” Wyle sounded indignant.

“Of course, she does it to all of us,” I patted his hand. “Are there any other controlling spells on my husbands that need to be lifted?”

“Does a spell compelling them to forgive you count?”

Disgust flooded me. My hands fisted and I accidentally ripped the penis page. “What?! Yes. Yes, that would count, Wyle. Please dispose of that one, too.”

“I might need to consult the Queen.”

I tilted my head. I gave him the look I’d perfected to fend off every farmhand for three miles when I’d worked in a field three summers past. A look that had sent the farm boys running back to their mothers. “Or, you could undo them without telling her.”

“Or that. Of course, that.” Wyle gently extracted his precious book from my hands. He eyed the page I’d ripped and gave a tiny moan.

“Sorry I ripped your penis. I’ll get it fixed.”

“No need, Your Highness. I have a spell for that.”

“Of course you do.”

He petted the page gently, muttered something, sprinkled a bit of ash, and the book repaired itself. I only hoped his skills would be as successful with my husbands.

Wyle tried to hustle me over to the chair where Willard was sitting. But my mother’s distance spell-curse wouldn’t let me walk that far.

“Do you mind if we do this over here?” I smiled.

The two men blinked at me dumbly, though it should have been obvious to Wyle why I couldn’t move.

“My skin has just been really sensitive the last few days. I don’t think I should be standing in direct sunlight.” I fluttered my eyelashes, feeling like an absolute idiot.

I bet you look like an absolute idiot.

Shut it.

Of course, the two men complied with the request of the crown princess.

Willard dragged his chair over and sat next to where I stood, absolutely reeking of sweat.

I secretly wished I’d also asked for a spell to deal with that scent. If I’d been my mother, I probably would have.

As it was, I watched Wyle link our hands. He squeezed two lemons and trickled the juice over fingers. Then he lit a rose on fire and blew it out before the flames reached the stem. Finally, he muttered a few words in a language I didn’t know.

“Is that all?” I asked.

Wyle nodded, his goggles falling down his face to thunk against his chest.

I turned to Willard. “I’m the youngest daugh—” I couldn’t lie and say I was Avia. The mage oath must be active. “Try to say you are from Sedara, please.”

“I’m from—I can’t,” he marveled.

“Good. Now, Wyle, please leave us. Take whatever you need to complete those tasks I’ve given you.”

Wyle’s eyes opened wide, His mouth gaped. With his beaky nose and wild hair, he looked like a startled bird. But he knew better than to protest. He gathered some books and ingredients and was on his way.

I turned back to Willard. “You have the floor.”

He gulped.

I shook my head. “We were in class together ten years, Willard. Just tell me.”

“We aren’t getting enough rain.”

“Okay.” I waited, carefully blinking away the ‘sarding idiot’ face my tavern wench persona would have given him.

“A lot of our herds—they can’t breed without enough water. The grass doesn’t grow without enough water.”

I nodded. Alright. The magnitude of the problem was starting to make sense.

“We’ve asked Declan for some assistance. But the balance … we lose too much soil in return.”

“And what are the astrologers predicting this winter for you?”

“They say it’s unseasonably warm. They predict a dry winter.”

So, the situation was only likely to get worse. “I am aware that your livestock provide a good deal of your income. Would you mind telling me what percentage?”

“I … my parents have found it the most profitable avenue. In the past.” Willard couldn’t make eye contact.

I sighed. “All of it, Willard?”

He looked up. His lower lip trembled a bit. “All of it.”

Shite. I tried to keep a neutral face. “Any areas worse than the others?”

“Grazing lands near the Purl Mountain range.”

“Near the border to Cheryn then?”

Willard nodded.

“Okay, start moving your herds south if you haven’t already. I’ll talk with Declan. See what we can do.”

Willard nodded again.

I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll figure something out. We won’t abandon your family. Though I do suggest you put your foot down and make them diversify a bit.”

He gave a broken laugh. “Put my foot down. Yes. Mother would love that.”

“You’re the heir, Willard.”

“You’re different. Than before you left,” he observed.

I smiled gently. “Better, I hope.”

“You seem more … sure of yourself.”

“If by sure of yourself, you mean mouthy and defiant, then yes. Four years outside these walls taught me that I have to think for myself, stand up for myself. No one else can do it for me. No one else can do it for you, either.”

He mopped his brow once more and stood. “Thank you, Your Highness. If you could help us out of this predicament, it would mean … a lot.”

“I will do everything in my power. And I hope to prove you can trust me with issues like this in the future.”

Willard started to turn toward the door, and I thought our conversation was concluded. But then he stopped, turned, pursed his lips. “Your Highness, um, if you don’t mind … did you actually see dragons when you were gone?”

Shite. Mother’s cover story. And I was still bound by the mage oath. “No. I did not.”

Willard’s eyes widened. “But—”

I took a deep breath and fought down the fear in my chest. He’d shared his family’s vulnerable state with me. “Willard, I haven’t seen dragons since I was a child. Not since the last Fire War.”

Bloss! Dammit! Don’t.

“Then … why did you leave?”

“To save Evaness, of course. From people who might unintentionally destroy it. People who are better off unnamed.”