All the Stars and Teeth(4)
“I doubt I’ll be needed.” Casem looks over his shoulder, grinning at us. “But watching over you tonight is a privilege. Though, I admit … the roasting pork smells like it was cooked by the gods. I wouldn’t be opposed if you managed to stow away some extra food—”
“Casem!” Mira gasps, but the guard laughs and I smile at his gusto.
“I’ll tell the kitchen staff to set something aside,” I assure him as we ascend the stairs, my heart skipping beats as we approach the throne room.
The colossal double doors stare down at me, a looming presence that chills my bones. I pause before it, drawing a long breath as I take a moment to steady myself. Eighteen years, and this is finally happening.
Ornately carved with the map of the land we command, the entire kingdom of Visidia unfolds across the golden slabs, portrayed by a collection of islands inlaid with shimmering jewels. The island of soul magic and the capital of our kingdom, Arida is represented by a bright sapphire that sits proudly in the middle of the map.
My skin warms as I brush my finger across my home island, trailing straight above it to Yuriel’s home—Mornute, marked by rose beryl. A lavish, affluent island, full of stylish denizens who use their enchantment magic to have purple hair one day and pink the next. Mornute is well-known for not only its magic, but also for its lush mountainside vineyards. The island of enchantment produces and exports most of Visidia’s alcohol. Though their ale’s delicious, their wine is by far my favorite.
To the left is Casem and Mother’s home island of Valuka. Marked by a ruby, it’s where elemental magic is practiced. While Mother chose for her affinity to be water, those with Valukan magic may pick between wielding either earth, fire, water, or air.
Below Valuka is an island more elusive to me—Kerost, the island of time magic, portrayed with an amethyst. Though it’s impossible to manipulate time itself, those with this magic are able to change how bodies interact within time, slowing them down or speeding themselves up. We have soldiers and staff here at the palace who hail from all the islands, but it’s been ages since I’ve seen time magic in action. Father’s told me stories of how taxing that magic can be for its users, which is why it’s Visidia’s least practiced magic.
To the far right of Arida sits a thick emerald stone that marks the center of Suntosu, the island of restoration magic. Skilled healers often come to work for the kingdom, where they’re dispatched to healing wards all over Visidia, tasked to care for the sick and injured. But Suntosu is also the home of Ferrick, my fiancé, and for that reason I skim over the island quickly, not wanting to think about having to announce our engagement. I trail my finger upward instead, to the onyx that marks Curmana, the birthplace for many of our royal staff, including Mira. I think of the Curmanans I watched earlier, helping others up the cliffs.
But not all are skilled at levitation; some, like Mira, are skilled mind speakers who can communicate directly into another person’s mind without ever having to use her lips. Father’s employed several of them to work with the advisers on each island, and their magic is how we communicate with one another so swiftly. It’s also a great resource for the kingdom’s latest gossip.
When I go to pull my hand away, my thumb brushes over a tiny hole in the map, to the far south of Arida, and I bend to examine the hole that was once filled with a beautiful white opal.
Zudoh. An island that specializes in curse magic, banished from the kingdom when I was a child. I don’t know much about their magic—just that it was used for protection. They could create barriers and charms that, when touched, would make people see strange things. But mostly the island was known for its advanced infrastructure and uniquely engineered wood that lent itself to producing our homes as well as our ships. As the southernmost island, its climate is the coldest of any. Winters in Zudoh are said to be harsh and full of snow and blizzards.
I don’t remember much about their banishment, as it happened when I was only seven years old. It’s a tender subject of conversation around the kingdom, often spoken of in whispers behind shut doors. Even Father doesn’t like to discuss it. Whenever I’ve pressed for details, he’s been quick to turn his shoulder and say that Zudoh doesn’t agree with the way the Montaras rule, and that they never will. Beyond that, everything I know about Zudoh’s banishment has been gleaned from keeping an ear to the kingdom’s gossip network.
I’ve heard that Zudoh’s advisers turned on Father during one of his visits to their island, and a fight ensued that left him severely injured. I vaguely remember a brief period when Father took a break from training me and I wasn’t allowed to see him. Back then I’d assumed he was busy; it wasn’t until years later that I connected the dots.
It’s infuriating, being expected to one day rule this kingdom, yet being treated like a child by having so much information kept secret “until I’m ready.”
That’s what I’m looking forward to tonight, more than anything. The moment my performance is over and I’m officially recognized as heir to the throne, I’ll demand to know everything there is to know about my kingdom. No longer will I have to wonder. No longer will Father be able to keep me holed up on Arida, telling me to keep practicing my magic. He’ll have to treat me with the respect the future queen deserves. I may be one of the few possible heirs left, but I am not the fragile, breakable thing he believes me to be.