A Deal with the Elf King (Married to Magic, #1)(34)

“Oh?”

“These journals are a good start”—and much better than Eldas’s sorry attempt at training—“but I want to learn more about my magic, and the elves’ magic. I need a safe space to practice.”

“All right,” Willow says with an appropriate note of caution.

“I want to make this my training room. And I want you to teach me.”

“What?”

“Tell me about elf magic and guide me as I work on learning my own.” I can’t count on Eldas.

“But—”

“Please, Willow.” I grab both of his hands. “You’re the only friend I have here.”

He purses his lips, looking between our hands and my eyes. Finally, he says, “All right.”

While we eat, he tells me about the elves’ onomancy—the wild magic of names. Every group of folk in Midscape has its own unique wild magic. The fae have ritumancy—magic charged by rituals based on actions performed in set ways. The vampir have sanguinmancy—magic from blood. On and on…

I focus mostly on the elves’ magic, since that’s what I’m dealing with. Willow reiterates what Eldas told me about the Knowing and how elves use it to find a subject’s true name.

As long as the elf knows the true name of someone or something, they can manipulate that thing however they please. It’s as Eldas said: their limitations only come from their own imagination and the strength of their magic. Willow explains how some elves are uniquely adept at suggesting emotions, others can manipulate hair into beautiful weaves; they can levitate objects, summon memories, communicate telepathically, and more.

I am surrounded by people of immense power. I wasn’t born with magic, and I might never learn enough to stand a chance. The best and safest thing I can do is leave.

Willow knows nothing about the “Being” that Eldas mentioned. After lunch, I spend the afternoon scouring the journals for any notes on it. I can’t find anything.

But what I do find is enough instruction on how to use my magic that I have renewed hope and a plan for later tonight.

The day drags on until the chime of a clock startles me from my work. Willow is finishing cleaning up his workbench. “Just leave all your things where they are. We can resume again tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“Sure.” I force a smile and refrain from saying that I won’t be here tomorrow if everything goes right tonight.





Chapter 14





I was eight the first time I sneaked out of my house.

The tiny window at the back of the attic was just large enough for my child body to wriggle through. The ledges that framed the windows were just wide enough for my nimble feet. And I was just stupid enough to think that climbing tall trees meant I was perfectly capable of scaling down from the third story of a brownstone so I could go and collect rare flowers that only bloomed at night.

I was young and reckless.

Now I’m older…and apparently still reckless.

Moonlight streams in through the windows of the lunch nook. Somehow, the room I destroyed has already been put back together. A shiver wriggles up my spine and I wonder if it’s the phantom sensation of the elf magic that I know had to have been used to repair the damage, or if there’s truly a chill left behind by the power.

My satchel is slung across my body and I’m in the clothes I arrived here in. Sturdy garments that can hold up to climbing the tallest redwoods in the forest or skidding down a hillside. The sort of clothes I’d wear in the shop I long for now.

I take a deep breath, debating with myself over this course of action. What will happen if I actually leave? The Elf King needed a Human Queen. Well, he got one. Even if I’m far away, we’re still married, technically. Midscape needed a recharge through that queen from the Natural World. They got that too.

And, based off the conversation I overheard with Rinni, I’ve caused more harm than good in Eldas’s life. Great, that feeling is mutual. If I leave we can both go back to living how we want now that we’ve fulfilled our duties.

“I have to go,” I say to steel my resolve.

Maybe the other queens had nothing better to do than exist, but I have work. I’ve made the trees bloom and Midscape flourish. My job here is done as far as I can tell. Now, it’s time to see if there’s another option that no queen has dared attempt to explore—going home.

I open the window. Even though the trees in the city below are now in spring’s embrace, their boughs heavy with fresh growths, my breath frosts the air. I wonder if this city is perpetually chilled by the magic of all the elves living in it.

Whatever it is, I’m looking forward to the much warmer weather of the coast. I imagine the sun on my skin as I collect flowers and herbs growing wild on the hills. I imagine the crash of the waves being muted by the trees as I gather clippings to fill the jars of my shop.

The memories embolden me. The thought of staying another moment here with Eldas and Harrow is too much. I will slowly wither if I’m forced to live out the rest of my days here.

I hold a rose in my right hand; I’ve cut off the thorns this time to prevent the magic in my blood from getting involved in my magical equation. Several more thorn-less flowers are in my left hand. My bag has damp spots from all the other flowers I’ve stolen from the now-empty vases around the lunch nook.