The Last Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (14 page)

She lifted her hands again, this time softer,
hoping to let nothing more than a trickle of heat escape them. With her aim directed toward another stack of wood, she watched in complete satisfaction as it trembled, but never fell. She pushed a little harder, sending a little more heat toward the wood and the stack gave way, tumbling to the ground. She giggled louder, her body dizzy with delight.

The sky darkened
and Emmeline knew her practicing session needed to be over. She darted around the clearing, cleaning up evidence of her presence and dashed to the palace.

Emmeline bounded out of bed the following morning and dressed in a hurry. A small smile played on her face, seeming to never have disappeared through the night.

“My, my, you are up early,
” Adelia said as she entered the room.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“You seem happy, though. You’re face is all lit up.”

“
That is because today is going to be a magnificent day!” She planned on spending a good portion of the day with Erick, and then the remainder of the day with a fire. She was determined to master her power before someone mastered it for her.

“W
onderful! At least someone has something to smile about! I’m always glum on cold, foggy days.”

“What!” Emmeline
flipped around to face the window. Sure enough, a shadow of grey had blanketed the countryside. The morning mist created a fog so thick that it lingered in the valley and crept up the mountainside. Even without rain, Emmeline knew she wouldn’t be starting any fires or riding with Erick. She slumped into a chair. “You’re right, it
is
a glum day.”

“D
on’t lose your smile, My Lady! Perhaps you would enjoy another day in the library?”

Emmeline sunk further into the chair.
“No, I think I’ll just wander around the palace for awhile.”As much as she would like to continue her research, she didn’t think it wise to linger around the two window washers who were too curious for their own good.

Adelia pursed her lips. “You won’t try to separate yourself from the guards again, will you?”

“Where would I go, Adelia? It’s a horrendous day. I don’t understand the weather here. One minute it is beautiful, the next it’s as dreary as can be.”

Adelia laughed.
“That is what makes Dolmerti so great! You never know what your day will bring.”

“
Or your nights,” Emmeline mumbled so low she doubted Adelia heard.

“Shall I
prepare a bath for you, My Lady?”

“I suppose.”
Emmeline broke off a piece of her breakfast and chewed slowly. She saw no reason to rush.

After a long
bath, Emmeline combed her own hair until it shone dry and then dressed into a grey-blue dress. She trudged toward the door and stepped into the corridor. Nothing she did or explored would compare to a ride with Erick or a jaunt with magic. The guards straightened at the sight of her and gathered behind her, focused determination set in their eyes.

“I won’t try to
fool you today,” Emmeline said. “You have my word.”

She turn
ed on her heel and strolled down the corridor, trying not to let herself get annoyed by the pounding of the guard’s boots behind her. Of course they followed. It was going to be a long day and she wasn’t looking forward to a minute of it.

Five days of gloomy weather persisted, and for five days Emmeline hoped the next day would bring clear skies and mild weather.
The King summoned her for a few small visits and she often found herself wandering to his chambers more than once a day as well. Their visits were the only bright moments of her days. They laughed and chatted, and then he would fall asleep in his chair with a smile on his face.

On the afternoon of the fifth day, Emmeline
found the library free from all workers, including window washers, and quickly lost herself among the leather bound books. She read about pirates and mermaids, knights and princesses, Greek gods and mortals, and many other captivating characters, but she never found anything else on the Incenagas.

Until it
found her.

Emmeline had just put down
The Mbuta Massacre,
a thrilling account of a young naiad who was attacked by the most unlikely of water creatures, when she heard the whispering of fabric behind the shelf nearest her. She looked toward the sound and saw a flash of red as it disappeared behind another shelf.

Emmeline jolted from her chair and
ran toward the retreating form, hoping to catch the person who was so obviously avoiding her. She rounded the corner and they were gone. Her guards looked up from their station and looked quizzically in her direction.

“Did you see someone run through here?” she asked them.

The guard nearest her shook his head, his eyes on the floor.

“No one?”

He shook his head again.

Emmeline
rushed to the fallen bookshelf and into the hidden corridor. But a shadow outside the windows caught her attention and she doubled back just as a guard dashed into the trees. She pressed her nose against the glass, unsure of what she saw. If she had seen right, it was the guard who had spoken to her on the back steps of the palace. Confused, Emmeline headed back to her chair and was surprised to see a book other than
The Mbuta Massacre
on her chair. Drawing close, her eyes widened. Placed in the center of the seat was her father’s book, the book he read every night, the book he refused to discuss.

It had the same
leather cover as she remembered with the same burned image on the front and gold-leaf design on the spine. She picked it up, confused as to why her father’s book was in Dolmerti and not with him. Only, something was different about it. The edges weren’t quite as worn, the pages not as yellow. But that wasn’t the only difference. The title of her father’s book had been scratched away and the title in her hands blared up at her in bold print.

Incenagas
.

Underneath the title, in a smaller print,
were written the words:
Remembrance and Regret.
She opened it up and saw Dolmerti’s crest inked onto the first page. Clearly it wasn’t her father’s, but she knew, without a doubt, its contents would be the same. She opened the book and took a calming breath, preparing herself to finally read what he kept from her for so many years.

The first page was a title page with the authors na
me in bold. On the next page was a dedication to “The Lost” and the author’s firm rebuke for those involved in the annihilation of the witches. The next displayed a table of contents of sorts with a long list of names. Emmeline skimmed the list until her mother’s name jumped from the page. She flipped to the referred page and sat in the chair, her hands shaking as she read.

Gwy
nn Durandi

“Born Gwy
nn Flora Hunzberi, Gwynn was the last fully matured Incenaga seen alive. The number of Incenagas had dwindled and many rulers were resorting to desperate measures to find a witch of their own. Gwynn attempted to hide in the forests of Pamizak, but once her identity became known, the King of Pamizak, Orrin Durandi, took it upon himself to protect her in his palace. Appalled by the destruction caused by so many of the nation’s rulers, he took a vow that her power would never be abused.

“
King Orrin became captivated by Gwynn and they married not long after her arrival. A little girl was born whose beauty matched her mother’s. Fearing for their daughter’s safety, the King and Queen arranged a betrothal agreement with the kingdom of Dolmerti.

“Not long afterward, a man named Harskell
of Griet assembled an army to capture Gwynn. A tyrant with blood on his mind and total domination as his one wish, Harskell planned on using her power to make himself ruler over all.

“
While King Orrin was traveling, Harskell and his army stormed the palace and captured Gwynn. But before she could be taken from the palace, Gwynn snatched the Kings sharpest blade and ran it through her own chest. No one knows why, but it is universally believed she may have known it was better for her to die than for millions to suffer under Harskell’s dictatorship.

“
Upon his return, the King learned of his wife’s death and was filled with such guilt and overwhelming grief that he abdicated the crown to his brother, took his young daughter, and disappeared.”

Emmeline sat in stunned silence.
Her mother had chosen death. The weight of her mother’s decision pressed down on her until it seemed she could barely breathe. She understood her mother’s motivations, but to give up her life completely? An intense sense of loss erupted inside her and Emmeline wept. It was as if she were losing her all over again and Emmeline wished with all her heart that her father could offer her some comfort. And that she could comfort him as well. He had suffered much longer than any man should be required, and in silence, no less.

After a time, Emmeline composed herself and turned back to the book. She flipped the page and let out a low breath. The page was nearly empty.

Baby Girl Durandi

Last known Incenaga. Missing or believed dead
.

The blank page stared at her, as if
it knew her life was as equally blank. She had done nothing of significance to earn her place on its pages, nothing to become the strong woman her mother had been. Scowling, she snapped the book shut. She’d had enough of depressing thoughts to last her a lifetime. She tucked the book underneath her arm and promised she would return to it later. Surely her father had a reason for studying it other than reliving his painful past.

Emmeline
wandered back from the library and was just rounding the corner to her chambers when pattering feet rushed toward her.

“
My Lady!” Adelia exclaimed. “You will not believe what has arrived today. It was just delivered to your room minutes ago.”

“What is it?”

“Come see for yourself! It is simply marvelous!”

Emmeline’s pace quickened.
She couldn’t imagine what it could be. She hadn’t sent for anything. “Will you at least tell me who sent it?”

“It is a gift fro
m the Crown Prince, from one of the finest shops in Dolmerti.” Adelia giggled and added a skip to her step.

Emmeline
rushed the last few steps into her chambers and froze. Her jaw slackened as she took in the beautiful sight.

A
harp of the finest craftsmanship graced the far corner of her sitting room. With a finish of deep mahogany, it had clusters of golden roses that draped from the top of the crown and swirled to the base.

“Isn’t it beautiful,
My Lady?” Adelia asked.

“I
t’s flawless,” Emmeline said. She trailed her fingers along the column. Vines of gold and silver ribbons twisted around each other in perfect harmony. An envelope woven into the strings caught her eye. She reached to unloose it and pulled out the thick parchment.

Emmeline,

It has come to my attention that a harp would bring you greater happiness. Please accept this gift and my apologies for not being there to give it to you myself. I am confident it will be to your liking as it comes from the finest instrument makers in Dolmerti. I look forward to hearing you play it soon.

Yours,
Crown Prince Richmond Frederick III

Emmeline smiled. Erick
must have taken it upon himself to notify someone. He was the only person who knew she longed to play the harp again. Her heart flipped in her chest. She would have to thank him as soon as the weather cleared. It felt as much of a gift from him as from the Crown Prince.

“Do you like it?” Adelia asked.

“Oh yes, I love it.” And then a thought occurred to her and she swallowed a lump in her throat. “Adelia, do you know how the Crown Prince knew I would want a harp?” She didn’t want to think about the number of questions Erick’s inquiry would spur among the servants—the gamekeeper privy to such intimate details about the mysterious princess.

Adelia shook her head. “I don’t, My Lady.”

Emmeline nodded and fingered the strings. She hoped Erick was discreet when he reached out to the King’s messengers. She’d hate for the wrong person to find out she’d spoken to him.

“Sit down,
My Lady,” Adelia said. “Play something.”

“What about the
law?”

“What law?”

“The one about music. About it not being allowed in the palace.”

“How did you know about that?”

Emmeline sputtered. “I…uh…read about it in the library.”

Adelia pressed her lips together.
“I’m sure the Crown Prince meant for you to use his gift. Besides, you hear me humming all the time and nothing has been done to stop me!”

Emmeline
laughed and lowered herself onto a stool. She leaned the harp against her chest and placed her fingertips on the strings. As she plucked the first notes of her father’s favorite melody she was captivated by the rich, full sound emanating from the harp. She didn’t notice when Adelia left nor when day light gave way. Blisters formed on her fingertips, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Her back ached and her wrists grew sore but she continued playing, strengthened by the pure joy she felt as the room filled with music.