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Magic Binds

Page 92

“Got it,” I growled.

“I don’t blame you,” she said. “I blame Im. One doesn’t simply hand a child a piece of land and let her stumble around in the dark with it. Has he taught you anything?”

“He’s offered, but only if I pledged to obey him.”

“I don’t understand that. He loves nothing more than to teach. He taught all of his children, even the ones he disliked. Even those who had neither brains nor power to do any real damage to themselves or others. You’re intelligent, disciplined, and you have power. You’re one of the strongest of his children I’ve seen. Why?”

“I thought about that,” I said. “I think it’s because I don’t matter.”

She stared at me. “Explain.”

“It’s not important for me to know anything about ruling the land. In his mind, I’m your replacement.”

She recoiled.

“He sees me as a sword, not a ruler. No matter what he says, I will never get the keys to his kingdom. I’m meant to kill for him and lead his armies at best, and die at worst. I don’t know if it’s because I’m too old or too stubborn, but there it is. If I blight the land accidentally, all the better. It would make me desperate enough to beg him for his wisdom and he can move me into the place he has chosen for me. If all else fails, from his point of view, I would make a decent vessel for bringing his grandson into this world. I know the prophecy says he will kill my son, but given a chance, I think he would take him. He likes new and shiny things, and my son will be shiny.”

Erra stared at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was shocked.

“You are not a hireling,” she said finally. “You are a child of royal blood. His blood. My blood. It is your right to know these things. It is his duty as your parent to pass them on to you.”

I spread my arms.

She squeezed her eyes shut and put her hands over her face. “You, our mother . . . It’s like I don’t know him anymore. There’s nothing left of the golden child he was. Is it because I slept while he stayed awake for another thousand years, or was I just that blind during my life?”

“He isn’t wrong,” I said. “I do make a better killer than a ruler.”

Magic exploded on my chest. I landed on my ass.

“Never put yourself down,” Erra snarled. “You are my niece. If he won’t teach you, I will! I may have never claimed a kingdom, but not because I don’t know how to do it or what to do once the claim is made. Get up. You have to practice.”

I rolled to my feet. “It wants to change me.”

“What does?”

“The land. The Shar. When I use the magic, I feel urges.”

Erra’s eyes narrowed. “Desire for more power?”

“No, desire to not be accountable for anything. I stop caring about things that are important, like family, friends . . .”

“Listen to me carefully. The Shar pushes you to acquire land and defend it. It fuels your feud with your father. It does not do anything else. What you’re experiencing is a different thing entirely. When you sense the land, what does it feel like to you?”

“An ocean.”

“Right now, you are a barren rock within this ocean. A part of you feels the great power that lies there and wants to become one with it. There is so much magic there and you are only human. But because you are human, you impose limitations on yourself, things you won’t do no matter what. These limitations are good. They keep your ego intact. Without them you would melt into the waters.”

“What would happen then?”

“You would become everything you fear. A tyrant, a demon, eventually a god. Hang whatever label you wish upon it. You must find a way to draw the ocean into yourself without losing who you are. You absorb it, not the other way around. That is fundamentally harder than letting yourself become one with it.”

I stared at her.

“You’re not fighting the land!” she barked, exasperated. “You’re fighting yourself. The combined magical power of the land is far greater than you are, but it has no will of its own. Interacting with it is terrifying, because your instincts are warning you about the enormous power difference between you and it. Your fear is pushing you to subjugate it, and fear is telling you that once you impose your will on the land, it will be a slave and no longer a danger. But this is the one thing you cannot do. It will feel like a victory, but in reality it will be the end of who you are. You must find a balance, a place within your land’s power. Doing that is a lot harder, and so a part of you rebels against all of the work you must do to get there. Yes, it will feel as if some outside force is pushing on you. I’ve known people who even heard its voice and talked to it. Some of them went mad, child. Trust me, it’s you. You have to overcome yourself. If the land had a will of its own and was wrestling with you, it would be so much easier. You would just crush it and move on. But you are fighting yourself.”

“How do I win?”

“That’s for you to figure out. One or the other part of you will get the upper hand. It’s not important now. Your father is preparing for battle. You must prepare to defend your land and all within it. What we’re practicing now is fundamentally different from what you’ve done before to keep yourself alive. You’re taking nothing. You’re shaping the magic the way a vessel maker shapes clay and then releasing it. This harms nothing. Feel the magic. Commit. Let yourself sink fully into it, but do not let it pull your essence apart.”

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