Her gaze runs across the twelve segments of the circle and the astral bodies I’ve inked carefully on top.
“I want to know about magic.” Kensa meets my gaze, getting straight to the point. “And whether Letty will have it.”
I know only too well that magic is random. Kensa and Espen, two non-magical parents, already have two mages as children. No wonder she wants to know if the same will be true for her youngest.
But star charts rarely give such specific answers. They don’t map out a life from start to finish. We all have free will to shape our own lives.
I chew the edge of my lip, gazing down at the chart. “There are three types of magic,” I begin. “Night mages use mind magic – magic you can’t see.” My gaze goes to Ruri. “Like Ruri’s telepathy, as well as empathy, telekinesis, Seers. Sun mages are the healers and alchemists, although there aren’t many of the latter left. Then there are sign mages, like Timo. They’re arguably the most powerful, having control of their overriding element – fire, earth, air, or water.
“A sign mage’s magic is linked to their star chart." I point to the parchment. “We all have twelve signs. For example, my sun sign is fire, but all of my twelve signs give me a water majority. So, if I’d have become a sign mage, I would have had complete power over the element of water.”
My gaze flicks over Letty’s star chart, working out her majority. “If Letty is a sign mage, she’ll have earth magic.”
“But will she be a sign mage?” Kensa presses.
I press my lips together. I can’t say definitively. More than anyone, I know how vague the promises in star charts can be.
I shake my head, shifting awkwardly on the bench. “I don’t know, Kensa. Her chart suggests she’ll spend her life helping others, so I could interpret that as her being a sun mage, but she could just as easily become a human healer or a teacher.”
Sensing Kensa’s disappointment, I try to steer the reading away from magic, aware I’ve not been able to answer the most important question playing on her mind.
“She’ll be hardworking and pragmatic, likely more introverted than, say, a fire type.” I glance over to where Timo sits cross-legged next to Gee, slapping his leg and laughing at whatever she’s just told him.
“What is–“ Ruri begins, then falls silent. Her head swings toward the door. “Shush. Shush,” she whisper-shouts, snapping her fingers.
Gee stops mid-story, putting a finger on her lips to hush Timo.
Kensa looks at her daughter, her gilded brows furrowed. The color drains from Ruri’s face.
Then I feel it.
Something cold and hateful skitters up my spine. Like this morning, the feeling of being hunted returns.
And whatever’s causing it is right outside.
Chapter Four
I strain to hear over the sound of the crackling hearth and my hammering heart. Hooves slow in the snow, horses whinny, wagon wheels whir to a standstill.
A snatcher. Ruri’s voice fills our minds, all of us reacting in silent horror. Just one.
She moves like lightning, racing to the staircase to grab the bags she'd dropped earlier. Espen and Kensa whisper to each other.
How did it get here so quickly?
In all the winters I’ve spent in Henling, the Taiga Pass has never melted and cleared in a day.
Gee comes to stand beside me, a reassuring hand on my shoulder. My head throbs, the muscles in my legs twitch. Whether to run or fight, I don’t know. Everyone moves with purpose. Ruri returns with the bags. Kensa wraps a thick cloak around Timo’s shoulders and drops to her knees in front of him to fasten the clasp.
Despite the silence, panic hangs in the air, like thick smoke. I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes, trying to block it all out, unsuccessfully. Kensa’s fear, primal and maternal, roils in my stomach. My heart pounds with everyone's panic at being trapped.
“Breathe,” Gee whispers, her eyes sweeping over my face, which is covered in a fine sheen of sweat. “Focus.”
I press a shaky hand to my forehead, feeling the thumping pressure increase. “My head…”
Gee grips my cold fingers and gives them a squeeze. She nods toward Ruri and Timo. “You’re going with them.”
I swing my gaze to hers, brows furrowing. “I’m not leaving you.”
“This creature is only after mages. I’ll be fine.”
“No,” I argue in a firm voice. “I’m not–”
A sharp knock on the door stops me.
Everyone freezes. The heat from the fire is stifling. A floorboard creaks as someone shifts their weight.
“Espen, there’s someone at the door!” Kensa trills, her voice sounding light and casual. “One moment, please.” She jabs a finger at the window, brows raised emphatically. Ruri nods once, grabbing Timo by the wrist.
A bead of perspiration edges down my neck, tickling me.
The front door flies open, smashing against the wall with a crack, making us all jump. Snow flurries whip into the house, curling around a dark, hooded figure standing on the threshold. The icy draught banks the fire and sends my dress snapping around my ankles.
“Good evening, Lord Bryher, Lady Bryher, guests.” The snatcher steps forward as it speaks, its voice a hiss.
My skin prickles with gooseflesh. Kensa hovers in front of the cradle, eyes trained on her other children.
Espen steps forward, golden hair shining in the firelight, broad shoulders squared. “How may we help you?”
The snatcher slowly lowers its hood. Its skin is leeched of color, almost translucent. An androgynous, hairless head faces Espen. My heart rattles painfully against my ribcage. The creature is almost human-looking. Almost. Its nostrils flare as it turns sunken, milky-white eyes to Ruri and Timo.
“What do we have here?” It steps farther into the room, its long, dark cloak swishing against the floorboards. “A little ember.” It sniffs again, cocking its pale head at Ruri. “And a night mage? All grown up, too. How did we miss you as a child?” It smiles, revealing a row of human-looking teeth. Somehow, that’s worse than fangs.
“You’re not taking them.” Kensa steps in front of her children, breaking its lingering gaze. “I don’t care if your orders come from the High Minister herself.” She plants her hands on her hips. “If you want to leave my household alive, you leave alone.”
“Lady Bryher,” it says calmly, “I am here to uphold the law. A law you have broken by harboring two mages without the Governance’s knowledge.” The snatcher looks pointedly at the cradle, where miraculously, Lettice is now sound asleep. “If you stand between the Governance and our rightful prisoners, you will choose to leave your newest child an orphan.”
Kensa looks between her three children, her distress a stab through my gut. I grind my teeth and clench my fists, straining against my grandmother’s vice-like grip.
The snatcher swings its gaze to me, recoiling. “A third–”
Espen barrels toward the snatcher with a roar, hunting knife raised. His broad frame towers over the wraith-like creature. A screech of anger slices through the air, and Espen flies across the room. He hits a wooden column with a sickening crack and crumples to the floor, lying motionless.