“Don’t break the circle!” Felix warned. “We must
complete the ceremony and then deal with the box.” The others stayed where they were, though they continued to stare at the trembling box.
Felix took the golden crown from the pedestal and nodded for Kiara to kneel. She bowed her head to receive the crown. “In the names of your forefathers and foremothers, in honor of the blood of kings and queens that flows through your veins, and by the power of Chenne, our Warrior and Protector, I crown you Queen of Isencroft.”
Felix ran his finger across the inside of the chalice. It emerged red with wine and blood. Reverently, Felix touched his bloody finger to the crown of Kiara’s head, and then to her forehead, throat, and breastbone. He wiped more bloody wine from the chalice and touched four gems on the crown, in front and back and on each side. He began to chant, swaying from side to side, as he lifted the crown into the air above Kiara’s head. The words were unfamiliar, but Kiara thought she recognized the language as the ancient form of Croft, used on rare ritual occasions.
Felix lowered the crown to hover just above Kiara’s head and made a pronouncement in the ancient language. “With this circlet, the power of the throne and the regent magic of your blood become yours, Kiara Sharsequin, Queen of Isencroft.”
Felix set the crown lightly on Kiara’s head. Although Kiara could not see the crown, she did see a cloud of golden light that enveloped her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. The light extended a slender glowing cord toward the inlaid box on the pedestal, enveloping it in the same nimbus. Once more, the box began to tremble,
and the golden glow began to swirl, shifting from golden into a light blue.
Before Kiara could react, an image forced itself into her consciousness, of Cwynn, alone in the darkness. At the same time, she felt a jolt of power travel down the length of her body, coming to rest in her abdomen, which clenched lightly and then released. The image remained vivid in her mind, as did the unshakable feeling that somehow, Cwynn was present.
“The crown conveys the full regent magic.” Brother Felix’s voice seemed to come from a great distance away. “Use it!”
Compared to Tris’s power as a summoner, Kiara had come to believe that her own magical abilities were lesser gifts, despite Cerise’s vague predictions that the regent magic would someday fully open for her. Now, Kiara drew on the fragile threads of power within herself, surprised to find that they glowed with a new vividness, golden and strong. Where the regent magic had been random and chaotic as it emerged since her father’s death, now the power felt coherent and whole. In her mind’s eye, Kiara saw the threads weave together, over and under, melding together into a warm, golden glow that filled her and surrounded her. Kiara willed the glow back along the blue thread to the inlaid box on the pedestal. She caught her breath. The sense of Cwynn’s presence was so strong, so tangible, that a sob tore from her throat.
Whatever was in the inlaid box reacted to her touch, and across the nether, she felt the presence lurch toward her, clinging to the golden glow as if to life itself. Kiara felt her abdomen tighten again, as if in recognition, and she felt a pulse of magic that began in the center of her
body, flowing from her womb, up through her chest, and then out to envelop the inlaid box that ceased its trembling and now lay quiet. The image of Cwynn in her mind, still vivid enough to touch, relaxed, bathed in a golden glow.
As suddenly as it came, the glow dissipated, and Kiara fell forward onto her hands and knees, spent. Dimly, she heard Brother Felix murmur the words to break the warding, and Cerise rushed to kneel beside her.
“What did you do to her?” Cerise’s voice was tinged with anger and fear. Kiara tried to catch her breath. She could feel Cerise’s healing magic flowing over her, a warm, comforting blanket of power.
“I’ve studied the conveyance ritual thoroughly, and I’ve never read of anything like this before.”
“What is in that damn box?” It was Balaren who spoke. He took a step toward the pedestal, but Allestyr blocked his way.
Cerise helped Kiara to her feet. Kiara wondered if she looked as pale as she felt, and from the expressions on the others’ faces, she guessed that she did. She met Allestyr’s gaze. “You said that you took ‘precautions’ to assure my throne. What have you done?”
Brother Felix sighed and moved to the inlaid box that now lay quietly on the pedestal. He murmured a few words of power over it before lifting it gently in his hands. “We were afraid that if Alvior landed troops on Isencroft soil before you were crowned in the full ceremony, he could claim blood title to the throne. There is an ancient working to crown you by proxy, creating a ‘you’ to be here in Isencroft until you actually arrived in person.” Felix opened the lid of the inlaid box.
Inside lay the
nenkah
, a crude rag doll. Felix caught his
breath. The
nenkah
lay curled into a fetal position, and its linen chest rose and fell with slow, steady breath. Cautiously, Kiara stepped forward to touch it with a finger. The linen was warm.
Balaren looked at the box with a mix of curiosity and horror. “What breathes in that box is not fully alive, but not dead or undead. Even to my senses, it has the feel of gray magic.”
“A rag doll on the banks of a river, warm like life,” she murmured, remembering Renate’s nightmare. Once again, the touch brought a vivid picture of Cwynn to mind, and an overwhelming feeling of fear, of being hunted, of escape that it almost tore a sob from her throat.
“We borrowed from your life force when we made the
nenkah
out of personal items,” Felix explained, shaking his head as if at a loss. “The ancient texts said that the life force would return to you when the ceremony was completed, and the
nenkah
would become just a bit of rags once more. I have no explanation.”
“It never occurred to you that you might be drawing on two life forces, did it?” Cerise’s voice was sharp.
Brother Felix looked at Cerise blankly, stunned. “Two?”
“Kiara is pregnant.”
Allestyr paled. “We didn’t know. We had no idea,” he said, eyes growing wide at the implications.
“When the magic came on me, it touched the child inside of me,” Kiara said quietly. “But I also saw an image of Cwynn, felt his presence. When I touched the
nenkah
, it happened again, as if his presence is bound here somehow.” She looked up at Felix and Allestyr sharply. “We don’t dare withdraw the power from the
nenkah
, not until we know what it means for my children.”
Brother Felix let his hand hover above the
nenkah
. The figure did not stir, like a sleeping child curled into a ball. After a moment he withdrew his hand and turned to them. “A whisper of your life force remains within the
nenkah
, but there is another force as well. Something is different about the second life force. Like yours, it’s incomplete, divided. I can’t explain it. Whatever it is, it’s powerful even though it’s not whole. If it’s your son’s energy, then he is likely to be an even greater mage than his father.”
Kiara shook her head slowly. “But none of the mages—not even Tris—has been able to read Cwynn’s magic. Cheira Talwyn of the Sworn believes Cwynn is very powerful, but there’s something very different about whatever power he has. She was afraid that it was different enough that Cwynn might be the real prize behind this war.”
“You have many questions,” Allestyr said, stepping up to stand beside Kiara. “You’ll spend tonight in the company of your ancestors’ spirits, and tomorrow, tradition demands that you make a pilgrimage to the Oracle of Chenne. Together, they may be able to explain what has happened, since we cannot.”
Kiara nodded, but her gaze traveled back to the curled shape of the
nenkah
. Brother Felix closed the inlaid box gently and gave her a sad smile. “The
nenkah
will be safe here. The magic of the box and the power of the wardings help to sustain it. We’ll take good care until we know how to free your energy—and Cwynn’s.”
Kiara and the others waited in silence as Brother Felix dismissed the wardings around the circle. Once they made their way to the door, Felix laid down the cord around the pedestal that held the
nenkah
’s box, chanting under his breath as he raised new wardings of protection. He
knocked at the door to signal Antoin and Captain Remir, and Kiara could hear the heavy key scrape in the iron lock. The door swung open and a cold blast of air filled the room as they stepped into the necropolis corridor.
To Kiara’s heightened vision, the darkened passageways and crypt rooms teemed with ghosts. They did not speak, nor did they try to touch her, yet Kiara felt as if she were being scrutinized closely. The group waited for a few minutes while Brother Felix locked the door to the chamber and replaced the wardings at the entrance. When he was finished, Kiara turned to him.
“How is it that suddenly, I can sense spirits all around us here? Is the regent magic a kind of summoning?”
Brother Felix considered her question in silence for a moment. “There’s been no record that activating the regent magic ever created a summoner in a king or queen who did not already have that talent. Certainly not someone with the range and depth of the talents that Martris Drayke has, or his grandmother, Bava K’aa.
“At the same time, part of the full regent magic involves being able to take the counsel of your ancestors. Your father was never truly comfortable with that part of the magic, and it may not have manifested as strongly in him as it does in you. After all,” he said with a faint smile, “you also bring the blood of the Eastmark royalty into the equation. We have no idea how their magic works.”
“So I can see these ancestors and speak with them? Just tonight? Just on Haunts? Or at other times?”
“We really don’t know. Nothing has been recorded. You can ask the spirits, but they may not be able to answer you, either. Every monarch is different. For example, your father’s magic manifested in superb battle instincts. He
had an uncanny way of knowing where the enemy was hidden, of anticipating their strikes. It was too accurate to be luck, too consistent. He swore he didn’t know how he did it, but he didn’t complain when it helped with the hunt as well!”
Kiara managed to smile, remembering how fond Donelan was of hunting stag.
“Unless I can use that kind of magic from afar, that won’t do us much good this time. I can’t risk the baby by taking my chances on the front lines.”
Cerise nodded thoughtfully. “Your mother had scrying magic. Sometimes she helped your father prepare for battle by using her talent behind the lines and feeding him the information via messenger. Your own abilities in that area are probably the legacy of her gift.”
Brother Felix led the group deeper into the necropolis. Antoin walked at the front with Brother Felix, while Captain Remir followed them, and Kiara noted that even here, the two men had unsheathed their swords, ready for danger.
They stopped when they reached a large mausoleum room where the bones or ashes of the monarchs of Isencroft rested, the place where Kiara was to spend the night. The door to the room was ornately carved mahogany, and the stone door frame and lintel were embellished with a complex pattern of knots and woven strands. Brother Felix held up a hand to keep her from reaching for the door.
“There are a few details to attend to before you enter,” Brother Felix said with a reassuring half smile. “While you are in the crypt, the rest of us will hold vigil in this side room,” he added, pointing to a dark opening across from the mausoleum room that Kiara had not noticed. They waited in the corridor as Felix lit the torches in the
smaller room. The light revealed a room with several empty raised pedestals for the vigil keepers to rest, as well as a low wooden table and two wooden benches. On the table, someone had already set out a large basket and a smaller basket, several wineskins, and a flagon of what appeared to be blood. A folded blanket lay on each of the raised pedestals, as well as on the benches, a nod to the comfort of the vigil keepers. The side room itself was notable for its complete lack of ornamentation. Brother Felix gestured for them to enter, and he bade everyone sit.
“While the mausoleum will be warded for your protection, at least one of us as well as one of the
vayash moru
will be awake and on guard all night long,” Felix said. “We’ll know if something unexpected happens, and if the spirits will permit us to enter, we’ll be there to help.”
“If the spirits will permit you to enter?”
Felix shrugged. “This part of the conveyance ceremony is not in my hands.” Felix paused and met Kiara’s eyes. “Tonight will be a long night, and you’ll be among spirits. Before you enter the mausoleum, you must ground yourself for the magic by eating and drinking.”
Although a knot in the pit of her stomach cancelled out hunger, Kiara forced herself to eat from the breads, meats, and cheeses that were set out for her, and to sip from the watered wine Felix offered.
Kiara turned to Felix. “If the spirits of the crypt can’t tell me how the magic of the
nenkah
affects Cwynn and the babe that I carry, might the Oracle know?”
Brother Felix looked thoughtful. “You’ll have the chance to ask. A visit to her grotto is required after your journey into the mausoleum is complete. Your question might be best suited for her wisdom.”
“I can’t say that I’m comfortable with either the mausoleum or the Oracle,” Kiara said quietly. “I’m not sure I’m wise enough to ask the right questions, and father always said the Oracle was damnable about playing hide-and-seek with the truth if the question wasn’t phrased just right.”