Inkmistress (Of Fire and Stars 0.5)(78)

It was after that last discovery that the king finally came to the workshop to check on our progress one afternoon. Informal armor of leather and dark-red cloth hugged his body closely, showing off an impressive physique. Only one guard accompanied him, but the woman was half a head taller than me, with enough ice in her gaze to freeze a lake with a glance.

“How goes the work?” the king asked us.

I set aside the pain-relieving tinctures I’d been working on, grateful that he hadn’t interrupted us in the midst of more difficult or volatile work. This was my chance to impress him and to ask for the favor I so desperately needed.

“Asra has been a gift from the gods themselves, Your Majesty.” Eywin smiled approvingly in my direction.

Hal watched the king with a warier eye from where he sat on the floor, cleaning vials for us. Though he hadn’t expressed any opposition to what we were doing, he always frowned at the mention or sight of the king.

“May I have a demonstration?” the king asked.

“Of course, Your Majesty.” A rush of anticipation hummed through me. I couldn’t wait to show him what we’d developed.

I beckoned him to the section of the workbench I’d taken over and uncorked a vial of my blood that had been mixed with an anticoagulant and infused with other herbs for stability and preservation.

“Asra, let’s show him the true magnitude of your power,” Eywin said.

The king raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

“First I’ll enchant you, Your Majesty. Then Asra will do the same. You’ll see the difference.”

“We are going to give you my Sight,” I explained.

Eywin performed the enchantment first, carefully tracing the spirit god’s symbol on the back of the king’s hand. I watched Eywin with my Sight as I had many times before. Since he wasn’t a magic user himself and didn’t have the amount of power I did, he relied on what already existed in the blood. He also had the disadvantage of working blind without having my gift of Sight. It was a wonder that mortals had ever figured out how to manipulate magic at all.

“Ah! I’ve seen the world this way before,” the king said, taking in the workshop with new eyes. “Raisa is a daughter of the spirit god and uses this gift often, and I’ve borrowed it from the gods a time or two.”

“Wait until you see what Asra can do,” Eywin said.

It took only a few moments to perform the same enchantment again on the king’s other arm. Soon I was tethered to him with thin strands of magic that drew from my power, far stronger and more solid than those Eywin had cast.

The king opened his eyes, blinking as though in bright light. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he walked to the windows and laughed—a booming sound too large for the room.

“This is astonishing,” he said, awestruck. “It’s so far beyond what I’ve been able to do before, even with the help of the gods. I can See everything.”

I knew what he meant, because I could too, though this was normal for me. The gardens outside glowed with life and magic. I sensed people everywhere in the city, like sparks in the streets. The Grand Temple also had its own energy, power so deep I couldn’t imagine where it ended.

I tore my eyes from the view to glance at Hal. His frown had deepened. When he caught me looking, he turned away to line vials up on a shelf.

The king continued to survey his kingdom, gently tugging at the magic I’d shared with him. How long could we sustain this? It had been easy with Hal because he had a vast well of his own power to draw on, but the king was mortal. And it was easier for him to use me than the gods, since channeling their power took more energy from him. With me in control of the enchantment, he didn’t have to think about it. The Sight was effortless.

Finally, he turned toward me again.

“You’re a wonder, Asra. Your service to the crown will be remembered for years to come. Perhaps centuries.” He smiled warmly.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I murmured. I wasn’t sure being remembered was anything I wanted. Not if it meant being remembered for the same things as Veric—or worse.

“I must reward you for all this astonishing work,” the king said. “Are you finding your accommodations here satisfactory? Is there anything else we can do?”

My heart leaped. This was my chance. “Actually . . . there is. Might you be willing to speak to one of the gods on my behalf?”

A flash of surprise crossed the king’s face. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. I only speak to the gods on the high holy days—solstices or equinoxes. Perhaps at the autumn equinox we could revisit the subject?” He smiled again, but this one was a veneer compared to the last. I had asked for too much.

My heart sank as quickly as it had risen. The autumn equinox would be too late. This far north, the first snow of autumn would probably come weeks before then.

The king must have seen my disappointment, because he said, “But in the meantime I would like to extend an invitation to my feast table. You deserve a seat there. And please take this token—it will allow you access to nonpublic areas of the castle, including the Grand Temple. You may go there to pray and offer to the gods if you wish.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I bowed to hide my frown. Getting into the temple myself was better than nothing, but I didn’t feel sure the gods would deign to speak to me.