Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(49)

Alfie quickly explained what he’d seen when he’d released the black magic, how it matched with what Paloma had said and how it all related to the legend of “The Birth of Man and Magic.” What he’d released was the power that had been severed from that god, turning his body to stone. Her eyes went wide as saucers as he spoke.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Finn said, raising a silencing hand. “You released a maldito god?”

“No, not exactly,” Alfie said quickly, desperate to clarify. “I freed Sombra’s power, which could possibly bring him back if not stopped . . . ,” he said, his voice quieting as he went on.

“Oh good!” Finn glared at him. “I thought I had something to worry about. But it’s just an evil god’s power! No problem, then!”

Alfie crossed his arms. She’d all but begged to come with him. He knew he’d made a mistake, but he didn’t need this judgment when they were about to embark on the most dangerous mission of their lives. “Well, if it’s too much for you, you know where the door is.”

Finn scowled up at him. “I haven’t met a maldito thing that was too much for me. When I do, you’ll know it.”

Alfie rolled his eyes, though she was probably right. He tried to hide the relief that flooded through him. He wouldn’t have to do this alone, after all.

“After spending your whole maldito life in the library, all you can come up with is that you’ll try to trap the creepy smoke thing with some desk magic you’ve never even done before?”

Her words stung, pressing at the sore spot of his uncertainty. “This is not normal magic. It’s not as if there are endless tomes about magic that can speak and turn people into dust!”

She opened her mouth to argue but fell silent.

“Well?” Alfie pressed. “Do you have any ideas you’d like to contribute?” This plan was so far from perfect, it was laughable. But it was all they had and he wouldn’t have her tearing it down unless she had a better idea.

“So we track it down and trap it,” Finn said, shaking her head at the madness of it. “With whatever wild desk magic you learned from that book. Magic you’ve never performed.”

“It’s all I know that might work.”

Fear of chasing this magic with a half-baked plan raked its claws over him, but Alfie could not let that stop him. A pit curled and hardened in his stomach at the thought of the ball tomorrow. He’d done this terrible thing at the worst possible time—just before his parents would present him as the future of their kingdom at the ball and just after he’d finally promised himself to give up the search for Dez and become a king his family would be proud of. Guilt and shame stung him in turn. His parents’ and his kingdom’s faith rested on his shoulders. He could not fail them again.

Finn squared her shoulders. “All right, let’s get on with it, then,” she said, as if she were accustomed to resigning herself to the madness of a half-baked plan. Alfie felt his heart lift, if only for a moment.

If she was agreeing to try, then maybe it could actually work.

Or maybe she was just as wild as she seemed.

Alfie swallowed thickly. He’d released the power of a god, a power dark enough to make due?os the world over come together to trap it. A power that struck fear in even Paloma’s heart and, left unchecked, would plunge this world into darkness. Alfie plucked a pinch of black dust from his pocket; the silver earring found in the ash flashed in his mind’s eye. He would stop this thing from hurting anyone else, even if it cost him his life. He lay the dust on his palm.

“Encontrar,” he said.

The black dust in his hand gave a tug eastward toward the outer rings of the city, where the people of Castallan celebrated, unaware of what their foolish prince had done.





17


The Blue Thimble


Following the prince’s tracking spell was much less convenient than Finn had expected.

Under the vanishing cloak, she and Alfie had snuck out of the palace, hopping onto the back of a carriage that had come to deliver goods for tomorrow’s Equinox Ball. According to the prince, it was clear that the black dust they were using to track Sombra’s magic was not on the palace grounds because the dust in his hand would heat up as they got closer to it. But once the carriage entered the next ring of the city, the Bow, the dust grew warmer, so she and the prince dismounted and searched on foot. They’d skulked through the Bow’s quiet neighborhoods, where noblewomen sauntered out of their brightly colored haciendas in their long, belted skirts and glimmering lace capes, along with noblemen in their freshly polished leather boots. The dust had gotten warmer but not warm enough. They’d moved on to the next ring, the Brim, where the dust grew hotter still. The prince, thinking it might have gone to the Pinch, steered them closer to the gate leading out of the Brim and into the poorer ring, but the dust fell cold as they approached. So they turned back into the maze of the Brim, moving through the nests of shops, searching in vain for that vile, smoky magic. Hours had passed, morning turning to afternoon, before Alfie felt the dust surge with heat in his palm.

“Espérate,” Alfie said. “It’s getting much warmer now. We’re close.” He swallowed thickly and Finn couldn’t blame him. The thought of Sombra’s magic curling close to her, as if it were hunting for something just beneath her flesh, had left her covered in goose bumps since the encounter. They walked on, down a more secluded lane of market stalls, the prince’s spell leading them like a compass.