Brightly Woven

her life—either way, she will not leave this city until I’ve made my decision.”
    North was practically pleading now. “Magister helped me create a lock. I’ve been strengthening it over the past few days, making sure that no one else can sense her power. It’s contained completely. She’s not any danger to Provincia!”
    I could hear Hecate’s sharp breath, even through the thick wood. “That is highly unsafe, Wayland! If the lock breaks, all of the repressed magic will spill out—who knows what disaster that would create!”
    “She’s created very few disasters,” North said sharply. “A drought, a quake, a storm, and a landslide—that’s it . And the only reason they came about was because she was upset!”
    “So she stubs a toe and creates a whirlwind?” Oliver said scathingly. “Tell me how that isn’t unnatural or dangerous?”
    “That’s not—!” North began fiercely.
    “The truth is, my son, that you were irresponsible in taking this on,” Hecate said severely. “You don’t know what kind of destruction she’s capable of—no one does! How many have died or lost their homes and possessions in the towns you’ve passed through? Do you even know if the magic you’re using on her is causing her pain? Will repressing her magic kill her? Or, worse, kill you?”
    I couldn’t breathe. My vision had blurred, and my throat constricted. This couldn’t be real—whoever that girl was, she wasn’t me.
    “I don’t—” North tried again.
    “Exactly, you don’t. You’re no less of a child than she is, full of pride. You never stopped to consider her once in all of this!”
    “Of course he wouldn’t have,” Oliver said. “I know very little about jinxes, but I do know the legend. Their blood heals all kinds of things, doesn’t it? Especially curses.”
    “Did you try it?” Hecate asked eagerly. “Did you see if her blood would help with your curse?”
    There was a very long silence, and then, faintly, “Yes.”
    I flung myself away from the door, scorched by my own foolishness. Pascal and North talking in Arcadia—the bloody handkerchief he never let me wash. The tears that dripped down my cheeks burned; every part of my body felt as if it was on fire. I couldn’t get away fast enough.
    “The amount of blood I would need to cure the curse would kill her.”
    I stumbled down the steps, trying to control my thoughts long enough to find the way out of the castle—out of Provincia—as far away as I could get.
    Why me? It all made sense, as if the final piece of the riddle had fallen into place. Every piece had been right in front of me, but I had trusted North too much to put them together. I had to find a way out, to get away from the wizards—away from what they would do to me and what I could do to them.
    I continued downstairs, and when my steps finally slowed, I didn’t know where I was. Surrounding me was a sea of white pillars, no doubt supporting the castle above. Everything was dark and still, save for the steady drip of water. Somewhere along the way I must have taken a wrong turn. I would have to retrace my steps to find my own way out. Unless there were side passages that led to the shipyard.
    No sooner had I taken another step than there was a sharp tug on my arm. I looked down past my shoulder, expecting to find a gloved hand, but there was only air and nothing else. I moved forward again, but something kept me there with an invisible grip on my wrist. I tried wrenching my arm free. Every other part of my body could move, but it was as though an invisible rope had chained me to the nearest wall.
    I took a step back and my bracelet made a light tinkling sound as my arm fell limply to my side. My bracelet, whichseemed to glow unnaturally in the torchlight. My bracelet, which I cherished.
    My bracelet, which had been given to me by North.
    I sagged against the nearest pillar. I stared at the silver chain, the three perfect stones—so beautiful that they might not have been of this world—and touched it gently. There was no clasp to undo the chain around my wrist. I turned it around, searching. I had never noticed, because before that moment, I hadn’t thought to take it off.
    It was too small to pull off over my hand, and the chain was too strong to simply break. The more I pulled, the warmer it seemed to become. I finally recognized the presence of magic for what it was and began to cry. Really cry, from deep inside my chest, the sobs clawing their way out.