Heir of Amber and Fire by Rachanee Lumayno (non fiction books to read TXT) 📗

slipped down my face and plopped onto the page, smearing the ink into an illegible blotch. I blinked my tears away, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Carefully, I refolded the letter and tucked it away in my pack, burying it at the bottom so it wouldn’t accidentally fall out if I needed to get something out of my bag. Standing up, I stretched my back after the long lunch.

To think that all these years my mother had been living a lie. No wonder she supported my feelings against the wedding to Prince Anders. She didn’t want her only daughter to get trapped like she had. But something else was going on as well, something more sinister. Hendon has some dark plan... and even darker magic.

What could the king be planning? And who was helping him? Hendon despised magic, and shared the Rothschan belief that it should be eradicated. The one thing I knew from growing up in Hendon’s shadow: he was a strong-minded man, a very black-and-white thinker. It seemed impossible that he would be willing to compromise on such an ingrained belief.

I shouldered my pack to continue on my way, shuddering despite the sunlight shining down on me. Whatever Hendon was planning must be dire indeed.

Chapter Ten

CLOSE TO THE DAY’S end I came across an inn just off the road. When I entered the place, it wasn’t too crowded. There were two people sitting at a table, eating, but no other customers. The innkeeper spotted me and came over to talk to me. It was easy to secure a room for the night, and I was happy to learn that the price also included a meal.

“I’ll show you to your room,” the innkeeper said to me. He started up the stairs, with me trailing after. He stopped at the second room down and opened the door. The modestly furnished room lacked the homey touches of Marchand and Asra’s house, but it had everything I needed.

The innkeeper handed me the room key. “Dinner is ready whenever you are. Just come on back down.”

He left me standing alone in the middle of the room. After I put my things down on the bed, I quickly washed the road dust from my face and hands and readjusted my headscarf. I dried my hands thoroughly and got my spell book out of my bag. Flipping through the pages, I found what I wanted near the middle: a locking spell.

This bit of magic would be a little tricky. There was a certain hand motion to lock something, and to undo the lock, I only had to do the hand motion in reverse. But a universal lock spell meant that any magician would be able to undo someone else’s lock; therefore, the spell had to include something specific to me so the item I was locking knew to only lock and unlock for me. I knew the spell in theory, but had never added the personal element. The easiest way to do that would be to add in a small, extra hand flourish of my own design.

I read and reread the spell until I was sure I had it, trying the hand motions as well. When I was sure I had it, I looked around for something to practice on. By the door sat a wooden chest, with a key on the table nearby. That’s a nice touch, I thought. Although it wouldn’t deter an extremely determined thief, it provided a bit of security for a guest’s belongings.

Focusing on the chest’s metal lock, I reached out my right hand like I was twisting a doorknob and softly said, “Obfirmo.” I thought I heard a slight sound, like the lock mechanism was clicking into place. I tried lifting the chest lid and found, to my disappointment, that it opened easily. Placing it back down, I repeated my spell. This time I definitely heard a click. When I tried the lid again, it wouldn’t budge. I smiled in satisfaction. I reached out and reversed my doorknob twisting hand motion. “Recludo.” The chest lock clicked again, and the lid opened easily at my touch.

I practiced a few more times until I was satisfied I had mastered the spell. I placed my belongings in the chest, locked it with magic, and took the key just to be safe. When I left my room I used my room key, and surreptitiously spell-locked the door as well. Then I headed downstairs to dinner.

The common room was much fuller now. I scanned the room, looking for an empty seat. There was one, toward the front of the room nearest to the inn’s door. I picked my way across the room and sat down.

The innkeeper’s daughter, a girl of about twelve, appeared almost immediately. “Evening, miss,” she said. “What’ll ya have? There’s a meat pie, or beef stew.”

I requested the pie, and the girl moved away to the next patron. I looked around the room, wondering if I was unsafe as a woman traveling alone. I needn’t have worried. Although the room was primarily filled with men, there were a few women present. Mostly wives, it seemed, although I saw one family with three young children nearby.

The innkeeper’s daughter returned with my meat pie and a glass of mead. The pie was so fresh that steam was rising from it, so I sipped at my mead and waited for my meal to cool a little so I could eat it comfortably.

I had just popped a bite of pie into my mouth when the door to the inn opened and Prince Anders strode in. I nearly choked on my food and hastily grabbed my glass to wash it down. When I was able to swallow, I looked up at the prince, who thankfully hadn’t noticed me.

The innkeeper rushed up to the prince, who was surveying the room with distaste. I slunk lower in my seat, wishing I had a hat or a hood or something. Hopefully with the