Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(47)



Alfie’s guilt wavered, his fingers itching to turn the pages. He knew they should leave and head back to his room in case Paloma decided to come back, but Alfie could not wait. He needed something to give him hope that he could fix this.

He frantically thumbed through the book until he found the chapter that spoke of sealing magic. He’d been reading it just as Paloma snatched the books from him. He was keenly aware of Finn’s bored eyes on him. She was picking her nails as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

He read that the entity needed to be sealed into an object of great value to the sealer, something he hadn’t noticed during his first read. He looked down at the dragon on his chest. It was the most precious thing he owned. He did not want to use it to trap the magic in fear that it would break, but he hardly had a choice.

The spellwork needed only a single word of magic; the book described the spoken magic as the simple word for closing in Englassen. To use it in his own language, the word would be cerrar. It was easy enough to remember.

Just beneath the illustrations came a warning that chilled him to the bone.

Sealing an entity with one’s blood must be done only in the most dire of circumstances. To seal with one’s blood is to tie oneself to the sealed entity. The longer that the being is sealed, the more it will draw upon the sealer’s energy, his very life force. The consequences can be lethal.

The sweat on his palms soaked the spine of the book.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. Was this why the diviner could see no future for him? Because he’d been fated since childhood to give his future away to this vile magic?

“Prince.” The thief sighed, leaning against the desk. “We don’t have all day.”

Alfie wiped the sweat off his forehead, his throat dry. “No, we don’t.”

Whatever needed to be done, he needed to do it quickly. The ball was tomorrow night and he needed to be here to present himself as the future king of Castallan. Not to mention, his family would certainly notice if he was missing for very long. He would have to handle this today. Now. While his family still slept and relaxed after last night’s festivities.

A voice sounded from outside the door. Paloma. Finn and Alfie froze where they stood, their eyes wide. If she walked in now to see him and a stranger in her private rooms, Alfie would be done for.

“Where’s the cloak?” he whispered.

Finn swiveled around.

His eyes narrowed. “You lost the cloak?”

“I didn’t lose it,” she hissed back. “I put it down, is all.” She got on her hands and knees and groped at the ground like a blind man searching for his cane.

“You idiot,” Alfie growled before dropping to his knees and joining her in the search. If they got caught because this fool didn’t have the foresight to hold the maldito cloak, then maybe he deserved whatever punishment Paloma doled out.

“Where did you see it last?”

She shot him a look. “It’s invisible.”

“You know what I mean!”

“Here!” Finn murmured before yanking Alfie up to his feet and tossing the cloak over them. As it had before, it stretched to envelop them both, just barely.

Paloma stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She held a book in her hand and leaned against the door for a moment to read on, engrossed. Alfie and Finn stood stock-still. They were in the middle of the small room; if she walked forward she might bump into them. But if they tried to move in this silence she might hear them. Finn made to move sideways; Alfie grabbed her by the shoulders and shook his head.

No, he mouthed, hoping she would listen to him for once.

You wanna get caught? she mouthed back.

He raised a single finger to his lips. They needed some noise to muffle their movements.

Paloma snapped the book closed before walking to her desk. Alfie held his breath and leaned sideways as she moved past them. Her due?a’s robes nearly brushed against his leg.

When she reached to pull the chair before her desk back, Alfie looked at Finn and nodded. While the chair scraped against the floor, Alfie pulled Finn close and moved them to the only hiding space he could see in the tight room—the thin bar of space between two bookshelves. They stood chest to chest between the shelves.

Finn glared up at him, her eyes seeming to say, Really? This is the best you could do?

But before Alfie could scowl down at her, Paloma was opening a drawer in her desk and pulling out a round mirror the size of a dinner plate.

A scrying mirror. He’d never seen her use one of these before. Paloma was such a private figure that he never imagined her being close enough to someone to have a scrying mirror. Whose mirror did hers pair with? Finn prodded him with her finger and raised her eyebrows as if asking him to explain why he was so interested in an ordinary mirror. He supposed she’d never seen one before. It certainly wasn’t the kind of thing found outside the wealthiest parts of the city.

He cocked his head toward Paloma and mouthed, Watch.

Paloma sat at her desk and leaned the mirror on an easel before her. Alfie could see it over her shoulder. Finn rose on her tiptoes, her chest pressing against him so she could get a better look. Finn was what some would call generously built. He hadn’t accounted for that when he’d chosen this hiding space, not that he could simply conjure up another. In the space of a heartbeat, his senses had narrowed to the place where the soft of her chest met him, pressing further when she took in breath. Alfie’s face reddened. He shifted backward, bumping into the bookshelf.

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