Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(48)
He screwed his eyes shut as the shelf gave a loud, whining creaaaaaaak.
Paloma’s back tensed. She turned and stared at the bookshelf. Finn was so close to him that Alfie could feel her breath catch in her chest.
Paloma squinted at the shelf before turning back to the mirror.
Alfie glared down at Finn and she raised her hands in surrender as if to say, Not my fault.
“Revelar,” Paloma said to the mirror.
Finn’s eyes widened as the mirror began to glow a soft blue. The glass rippled like a pond disturbed by a dropped pebble. It cleared and stilled to reveal the face of a woman Alfie did not recognize. Alfie’s eyebrows rose. She had the blonde hair, blue eyes, and delicate features of someone from Uppskala. She wore blue, velvet robes trimmed with brown fur—she was Uppskala’s version of a due?a. Why was Paloma calling on a foreign due?a?
“Svana,” Paloma said. Alfie could see the top of the woman’s face over her shoulder.
“Paloma,” she said, her Uppskalan accent flowing thick and slow over the quick syllables of Castallano. “You wished to speak. What is it?”
Paloma took in a breath. “I woke in the night with a terrible feeling in my bones. Something feels wrong.” Paloma’s hands clasped the edge of the desk, her fingers curled tight. “I cannot explain it. But I just know—I know that it has to do with . . .” She went silent once more.
Tension tightened like a knot between the two due?as.
“You cannot be serious. Do you think so little of the rings of protection magic that are in place? To free it would require due?os from each of the ruling five kingdoms.”
Rings of protection magic. Alfie’s hands curled into fists as he was transported back into that endless darkness. He could remember each ring he’d destroyed. He could smell the blood running down his fingers. His palms were slick with sweat, his breath hitching in his chest.
“I don’t know, Svana. I feel it,” she said. “Something is not right.”
Alfie’s stomach dropped. He’d never seen Paloma show even an ounce of fear. Anger and disappointment, yes, but never fear.
“Castallan’s pieces are safe, yes?”
Paloma nodded. “I checked myself. They are untouched.”
Alfie’s brow furrowed. What pieces were they talking about?
“You truly have not sensed anything?” Paloma asked, her voice strangely desperate. “Nothing that feels . . . wrong?” Silence. “Svana?”
Svana sputtered. “Perhaps, but that does not mean it has been freed. We have held it at bay for centuries. It will never get back to him. Never.” Svana’s voice came again, soft and insistent. Intimate. “How does the fable end, Paloma? After shadow and light join. Tell me.”
Alfie’s spine straightened. They couldn’t be talking about that fable—the story of how magic and man were made, of the evil god who’d been enamored with the dark.
Paloma gave a shaky sigh and spoke the words that Alfie feared. “The god who so favored the dark was cast out of the heavens, forbidden to return. The world’s finest bruxos worked together and parted him from the dark power he so loved, turning his body to stone. He and his black magic were never seen again.” Paloma spoke the words like a prayer, like something that held weight and truth.
Like something that was much more than a mere children’s myth.
“Our ancestors splintered him from his power, and so long as we keep it locked away, he cannot return. He will stay a nameless villain in a children’s story. This I promise you.”
Alfie’s teeth ground painfully against one another, the weight of what he’d done falling on him with unbearable pressure. He knew that what he’d released had to be something bad, but he hadn’t expected this.
He’d freed the very thing that could revive the god of the dark. According to legend, Sombra would sweep the world into Nocturna—an endless night, an unraveling of mankind into monsters who thrived on hatred, violence, and greed. Alfie’s heart sputtered in his chest. This could destroy not only his family’s reign, but the entire world.
What have I done?
“You’re right. I only needed to hear you say it.” Paloma gently touched the mirror with her fingertips. Alfie looked away, knowing this was not for him to see.
The two exchanged goodbyes, and Paloma tenderly wrapped the mirror in velvet before tucking it back into her desk. When she finally left, Alfie opened his mouth to speak but Finn held up her hands, counting down with her fingers.
After a long minute they wriggled out from between the bookshelves and took the cloak off. Alfie leaned over, his hands on his knees as he willed himself not to vomit.
“Prince,” Finn said. “Your teacher having a secret girlfriend can’t be what’s rattling you. People have secret girlfriends all the maldito time.”
Her words flowed around him like water around stone, muffled and blunted by the panic racing through his veins. She was blissfully unaware of what he’d just learned. What he’d done.
Alfie looked at her, his mind a tangle of panic. “We’re never making it out of this alive.”
Finn crossed her arms. “Must you speak in riddles like a troll under a maldito bridge? Tell me what’s going on!”
Alfie didn’t want to explain what Paloma’s conversation had made clear about what he’d released. He told himself it was because there wasn’t any time with this foul magic running free in his city, but he knew it was because he feared she would leave him to handle this on his own.