“You’ve every reason to decline,” she said.
I shook my head. “I’ve an even better reason to accept.” If there was even a slight chance that this could help find Ava, I had to accept. “Do it.”
Rhien reached upward, pausing momentarily so her brown eyes could meet mine and so she could be sure of my acceptance. “Go wherever feels important,” she told me. Her hands set on either side of my head when she was sure, and she closed her eyes and said, “Onlucan nin yngemina.”
All at once my eyes slammed shut, and though I knew it was just a memory, I was there again. But not where I expected to be. I was in Hazlitt’s throne room, being roared at by him that I had to find his daughter and bring her back. It wasn’t a useful memory though; Kingston had already searched every corner of the castle at Guelder. As soon as that thought occurred to me, I was ripped forward to the day in the cave, when Ava finally told me why she’d run and about Hazlitt’s treachery. Then Silas was there, shouting at me for trusting her, threatening to find us. It was as painful as the day it happened, but somewhere distant I could hear Rhien, her far off voice telling me to keep going.
Though I tried, I couldn’t direct the memories, couldn’t control where my mind went, only when it moved on. So I shifted forward, halting at the moment Ava told me she loved me. I couldn’t stop a brief flash of what had happened afterward, but I took us ahead in time. To the next morning. To the blood, and the running, and being cut off by Hazlitt and his soldiers.
Every emotion I’d felt that day was back again, as fresh and alive as the moment it happened. The pain of Hazlitt’s magic, and the extreme loss and betrayal when Silas killed Albus. Then the choice. Hazlitt’s snide presentation of what was nothing other than a severe punishment for my transgressions against the crown. But what hurt more than anything was the look on Ava’s face. It had been six months, and though I’d never stopped remembering, I’d lost the exact expression the moment she realized I was leaving. It was almost worse now, months later, because I knew what became of her. I knew that my mother and brother were fine, and that Hazlitt would lock Ava away, where I couldn’t find her and she’d think I was dead. Where she’d give up on the thought of ever being rescued. Where she’d give up on life.
I ripped away from Rhien’s hands so violently that I nearly fell backward. I caught myself with my palms, and after brushing the grass off them, I wiped at my tear-filled eyes. Though I could feel Rhien watching me, I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze. After showing her all that, I felt ashamed. Felt like she’d judge me now that she’d seen what I’d done, seen how coldly I’d left Ava with Hazlitt. Instead of looking at Rhien or saying anything, I pulled my knees up, setting my elbows on them and putting my hands to my head.
“Kiena,” she said, scooting forward to set a hand on my leg. “Are you alright?”
I wasn’t, and she knew that, and if I looked at my mother, I’m sure it would’ve been clear to her too. “Did you see anything useful?” I asked without looking at them.
There was a lengthy silence before she answered, “I’m sorry, not what we were looking for.” She cleared her throat, and her hand made a delicate pat against my leg as though she was apologizing for what she’d say next. “Kiena,” she said again, “I know it hurts, but… will you take me back there?” Now I did look at her, because the request was unnerving, and the thought of doing it again was dreadful. “Please, just once.”
For a long moment, I just stared at her, and I might’ve refused if she didn’t look so earnest about it. There was clearly something in the memory that interested her, and if it would help in any way, I needed to do it. So I lowered my knees, crossing my legs beneath me. I didn’t nod in response, but I didn’t need to. Rhien stretched her hands forward again, setting them once more on the sides of my head and repeating that phrase, and we were back at the beginning of the most agonizing memory of my life. Ava and I fell from the horse. I went through the pain of the magic again, the pain of losing Albus again, and as Hazlitt stepped forward to begin his proposal, I heard Rhien’s distant voice say ‘here.’
Hazlitt knelt down, and I screamed at him with my throat full of sparks. His eyes widened, he rose and stepped back, and when those sparks died because I’d been too full of emotion, he came forward again to continue. He made his smug, cruel offer. The offer that took my joy, and my hope, and would rob me of sleep for the next six months of my life. I grabbed the reins from Hazlitt, but Rhien removed her hands before I could mount the horse, and I was back in the meadow.
I opened my eyes, my forehead creasing with confusion at the hint of a smile on her face. “What?” I asked, taking a deep breath to keep from losing myself to the pain of the memories.
“Have you not wondered why he didn’t kill you that day?” she asked, and my lips pursed with concentration as my forehead creased even deeper. I hadn’t wondered. It had never crossed my mind because for so long I’d wished he had killed me. It would have been so easy for him. “Kiena,” Rhien said, and though it seemed like she was trying to contain her excitement, she huffed, “he’s afraid of you.”
“He’s not afraid of me,” I said instantly. Firmly. He’d taken everything I loved, and he’d done it looking smug. He’d done it while mocking me.
“Then why didn’t he kill you?” she asked.
My mouth set with frustration, because for some reason I didn’t like hearing this. If Hazlitt was afraid of me, there was a reason for it. And if there was a reason for it, then that might mean I could have prevented all of this. “Because it wasn’t worth the effort,” I muttered.
She dropped her chin to look at me sternly. “But it was worth it for him to give you his best horse?”
I’d almost forgotten my mother was still sitting with us, until she mused, “He wanted you out of the way.”
Rhien snapped her fingers and pointed at my mother in agreement. “Think about his face,” she urged. “How he stepped away from you in order to avoid your magic. The fear in his eyes.” She reached forward and took my hands with growing excitement. “He didn’t want you around. He couldn’t threaten your life, couldn’t back you into a corner where your only option was to fight because he didn’t think he could win.”
I sighed with reluctance and frustration, taking my hands from hers. “I couldn’t even control my magic back then. He could have killed me, easy.”
“Did he know that?” Rhien asked. “I sense your magic. Anyone with the gift can sense your magic, Kiena. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.” She glanced at the ground and thought to herself for a few moments. “He tried not to let it show,” she chuckled in recollection. “He’s a damn good liar, but oh, he was scared.”
While I wanted nothing more than for it to not have been that simple, I could no longer disagree. Now that Rhien laid it out, I could recall the fear in Hazlitt’s eyes. “People talk about the power of my magic,” I said, reaching up to grasp the dragon pendant around my neck. “If it’s so grand, why can I not do more with it?” I remembered what Kingston had told me about lessons, about how information surrounding my magic had died with my ancestors. Perhaps there truly were gifts that had been lost, but why could I not recover things on my own? Shouldn’t it be in my blood?
At first, Rhien’s only response was a shrug, but then her face lit up. “We should speak with the masters.”
She meant the mind masters: the mage instructors she’d come with from the Duskford Monastery. These last months, I hadn’t sought formal instruction in my magic. I’d been too broken. Isolated myself too much. Everything I’d learned to do with it, I’d learned on my own, through intense practice when I needed a distraction or couldn’t sleep at night. Perhaps now was the time to do more.