Felitïa stared at the book, the words on the page having little meaning. They looked like nothing more than blobs of ink at the moment. It was too late, and she was too tired to read effectively.
Yet she had tried to sleep and sleep wouldn’t come.
She had been so sure she would be able to sleep normally again once free of the Staff’s influence. The Staff was at Agernon’s and she hadn’t heard its incessant calling for close to a full day now. Yet when she lay down and closed her eyes, her body wouldn’t sleep. Could she have gotten so accustomed to not sleeping that her body couldn’t remember how anymore? Whatever the case, it was clear she was going to have another sleepless night. Agernon wouldn’t like it, but what else could she do?
She closed The Foretellings of Eleuia. She still hadn’t had much chance to study it. On the trip upriver, the Staff had been too disruptive to allow her to study the book. Now she was back in Quorge away from the Staff, she’d hoped to study it more. It was ideal to pull out on a sleepless night—except sleepless nights brought with them a lack of concentration, especially when combined with numerous other sleepless nights before them. She wasn’t going to get much out of it tonight.
It must be close to morning now anyway.
She removed Lon from her lap and held him up to her face. “Time for a walk, don’t you think?” She placed Lon on her pillow and felt for Nesh who was snuggled against her side. She placed Nesh beside Lon, then climbed out of bed and dressed quickly. She hoped it wasn’t too early to wander about. She had considered wandering about hours ago, but wasn’t sure how appreciated it would be. This was only her first night here, after all. It was better to wait until she had a better idea how people would react to her wandering around in the middle of the night.
But there was only so long she could sit in bed doing nothing.
She drew back the curtains a little. It was still dark outside, but not the pitch black of the deepest night. It couldn’t be long until dawn.
She picked up the rats and placed them on her shoulders. Then she grabbed The Foretellings of Eleuia. Perhaps there was somewhere in Lord Belone’s palace where she could read and still focus. A library or some place with a table and hard chair would be a start. Tucking the book under her arm, she headed into the hall.
She paused in front of the next door. Should she let Nin-Akna know what she was up to? She didn’t want to disturb her, but Nin-Akna had been adamant after the other night. Felitïa knocked on the door. After a moment, she knocked again. No answer came. Nin-Akna was probably asleep—or already up and about. No, Felitïa could sense her presence in the Room. She could knock louder, but the poor girl got such poor sleep these days, Felitïa didn’t have the heart to interrupt it. Besides, it wasn’t like she was leaving the palace. She wouldn’t be far away. Nin-Akna could find her easily if needed.
Felitïa wandered down the hall. There were a few servants moving about, and of course, a few guards. None of them objected to her presence. For the most part, they just moved out of her way, bowing or curtsying as she passed. She spoke to a couple of servants just to gain directions and soon found her way to the library.
It wasn’t much of a library. It had a single shelf over the fireplace with about a dozen books on it. The rest of the room was more like a lounge, with plush chairs and couches, the walls adorned with paintings. It also had a large, long table that was perfect for Felitïa’s needs. She could spread her papers on it and have them all at hand. For the moment though, she had only the one book and wouldn’t need all the space. The tall, stiff-backed chairs might help her concentrate though.
Before sitting down, she took a quick look at the books on the shelf. They covered topics like embroidery, gardening, military tactics, and history. Nothing she was likely to need, but it was good to know what was available.
She sat at the table and placed The Foretellings of Eleuia in front of her. She’d barely opened the book, when the library door opened and a servant entered. He bowed low. “Pardon the intrusion, your Highness, but his Lordship invites you to join him for breakfast.”
Felitïa raised her head off the table. “Already?”
“I beg your pardon, your Highness?”
When had she laid her head down? “I mean, it’s a little early? It’s not even dawn yet.”
“It’s an hour past dawn, your Highness.”
Felitïa blinked. “It is?”
“Yes, your Highness.”
Had she fallen asleep? She didn’t feel like she’d been sleeping. She nodded slowly. “Of course. Tell his Lordship I will join him shortly.”
“Your Highness.” The servant bowed again, backed from the room, and closed the door again.
Felitïa rose and reached for The Foretellings of Eleuia. It lay open on the table in front of her, open to a page about halfway through. Had she opened it to that spot, or had she been reading it?
A passage on the page caught her attention.
You will know the Will-Breaker by her mental prowess, capable of manipulating and bending the will of others under her complete control. She should be rightly feared, but know that she is an ally as long as you do not raise her ire.
Felitïa sat down again, her heart racing. That was exactly the kind of passage she was looking for—and exactly the kind she didn’t want to find. Bending the will of others under her complete control? The idea was terrifying.
So she had fallen asleep. It was possible she had just happened to open the book to this exact page, but it was unlikely. More likely, she had been looking through the book and found this page. But why couldn’t she remember doing it? When she had “woken” up, it hadn’t felt like waking up or that she had even been asleep at all.
Felitïa closed the book and closed her eyes. She unfolded the Room and checked the black walls, looking carefully for cracks and breaches. In a matter of seconds, she passed over the infinite surface of the walls. They were intact. Nothing had made it past them—at least not without reconstructing the walls afterwards and that shouldn’t be possible. Only she could reconstruct her walls.
After that disappearing figure from the other night, then Nin-Akna mistaking Felitïa for her dead friend, and now this, Felitïa couldn’t help worry there was some sort of mental manipulation going on. But mentalism magic would leave distinct traces, and she knew how to recognise those traces. There were no traces of anything in her head that would indicate anyone had used mentalism magic on her.
She was just overtired. That had to be it.
With a sigh, she picked up the book and stood up. She headed first back to her room to drop off the book and the rats and to dress more formally, then to breakfast.
* * * * *
Akna opened her eyes to the sound of knocking. Strangely, she hadn’t been dreaming of Chica’s face exploding. Or of Inhuan’s death. Or of any of the other deaths she’d seen.
More knocking came from the door.
Akna sat up. She couldn’t remember dreaming anything before waking up. That was weird after the usual these days, but it was pleasant. She’d take dreamless sleep over nightmares any day. It had to be the first time in months she hadn’t dreamt of her friends dying.
More knocking came from the door.
Akna hopped out of bed and hurried to the door, then spun around and returned to the bed to grab a blanket, which she wrapped around herself. It wouldn’t do well in this place to forget that Arnorins didn’t like seeing people in states of undress.
Felitïa stood in the hall outside the door.
“Good morning,” Akna said.
“You’re cheerful.”
Akna realised she was actually smiling. “Is it that obvious?”
Felitïa shrugged. “I...uh…” She tapped a finger on the side of her head.
Akna smirked. “Oh right. I slept well last night, so I guess I am feeling kind of good.”
“That’s a relief,” Felitïa said. “I was a bit worried.”
Akna stepped aside and motioned for Felitïa to enter the room. “Worried?”
Felitïa walked inside. “You missed breakfast.”
Akna hesitated while shutting the door. “I did?” She finished shutting the door. “Why didn’t someone come get me?”
Felitïa looked at her. “Someone did. A servant apparently knocked on your door and you didn’t answer. I actually came by before that, but that was quite a bit earlier. I got up early to wander and wanted to let you know, but you didn’t answer.”
Akna stared at Felitïa. “But I don’t sleep through things like that. I…” She had been trained to awaken at the slightest unusual noise. Yet recently, she’d been messing up a lot, not noticing things she should. Meleng would probably joke that she was unobservant, and she was in a lot of ways. But not in these ways. She was good at these sorts of things.
Or she used to be.
“You okay?” Felitïa said.
Akna tore the blanket off herself and threw it aside. She snatched her clothes off the chair she’d tossed them on last night. “Yeah, fine.” She started to dress.
“You overslept,” Felitïa said. “You haven’t been sleeping well. You finally got some peace and quiet, and you slept well for the first time in ages. It’s understandable you might not hear knocking.”
“I wouldn’t describe this place as peaceful, Felitïa.” She pulled her blouse on. “Still, it’s probably for the best.”
“Exactly. You’re more rested. Remember how you felt before you learned you overslept.”
“I meant it’s best I wasn’t at breakfast. After last night, they probably won’t let me stay here much longer. I should leave before they kick you out too, or worse.” She stood up to pull on her skirt.
“What are you talking about?” Felitïa asked.
“Last night. With Danel. I…” She looked away from Felitïa, tried to make it look like she was focused on tying her skirt in place. “I might have twisted his arm and thrown him against the wall.”
“Oh.”
Akna looked back up at Felitïa. “You didn’t hear him yelling?”
Felitïa shook her head.
“You didn’t hear him calling for the guards or yelling after me while they led me back here?”
“Should I have?”
“It was just down the hall.” She picked up her jerkin and put her right arm through.
“When?”
“Just minutes after we said goodnight, after you went in your room. Did you really fall asleep that fast and sleep through it?” Akna put her other arm through and began tying the jerkin.
Felitïa looked a little to the side, her eyes cast to the floor. “I was up all night. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Then how could you have not heard?”
Felitïa shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Or maybe you’re just overtired too.” Akna spat the words more heavily than she’d intended and she looked away from Felitïa again. She focused on the ties on her jerkin, her fingers fumbling on the current one.
“Lack of sleep can have a strange effect on the mind, cause a lack of focus, hallucinations.”
Akna glared up at Felitïa again, accidentally pinching her finger on the tie. “Oh bullshit, Felitïa. There’s something else going on here. There has to be. Do hallucinations make you not hear things? Or are you suggesting I hallucinated my encounter with Danel?”
Felitïa shook her head. “No, I just...I don’t…” She sighed. “I’ve considered the possibility we’re being mentally manipulated, that someone’s using mentalism magic against us. But I can find no trace of that.” She paused. “Not in myself, at any rate. But…”
“But what?”
Felitïa approached her. “I haven’t checked you.” She held out her hands. “May I?”
Akna let go of the jerkin tie and stepped back. “May you what?”
“I need to check if you’ve been subjected to mentalism magic recently. There will be traces in your mind that I can detect. I have to have physical contact with you, though. It’s not my telepathy. It’s not intrusive. I’m not reading your mind. I’m just checking for those traces I mentioned. Nothing else.” She gave Akna a smile. “Do you trust me?”
Akna nodded. “Yes, I need to know what’s happening to me.”
Felitïa approached closer and put her hands on the sides of Akna’s head, her fingers pressing lightly on Akna’s temples. “Elderaan used to do this with me a lot in the early years of my training to check how I was responding to various spells I cast or he had cast on me. Apart from a couple of occasions practising it on him, I’ve never actually used it before.”
Akna twitched, but resisted the urge to pull away. “You do know what you’re doing, right?”
Felitïa nodded. “My lack of practice will just mean it will take a little more energy than if I had more practice. Worst case, I’ll be a little tired afterwards, but even that’s unlikely. You might feel a slight tingling while I cast the spell, but otherwise, you won’t notice a thing.”
Akna took a deep breath. “Okay, do it.” She closed her eyes.
Nothing seemed to happen.
Felitïa removed her fingers. “It’s done.”
Akna opened her eyes. There hadn’t even been any tingling. “Well?”
Felitïa shook her head. “There’s nothing. No one’s done anything to you.”
“But they must have.”
“Do you really want them to have?”
Akna shook her head. “No, but...there’s no other explanation.”
“Except exhaustion,” Felitïa said.
Akna rolled her eyes. “I’m not that exhausted. I can tell the difference between dream and reality. I attacked Danel last night. He deserved it, but now he wants me hanged. I did not imagine that!”
“I’m not saying you did.”
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”
Felitïa’s face twisted. “What?”
“How do I know you’re not the one using mentalism magic on me? Or maybe your telepathy? Or both?” Why did she trust this woman? Ever since Felitïa had come into her life, Akna had been surrounded by death. Chica, Inhuan, others. Felitïa’s arrival in Ninifin had brought with it a failed rebellion, the death of Queen Nin-Xoco, chaos, and mayhem. Akna had been specifically told that Felitïa—the Will-Breaker—was a harbinger of destruction, yet Akna had gleefully followed her. Trusted her. Done everything Felitïa had asked.
Even when Felitïa had specifically said Akna was in charge.
Felitïa shook her head. “No, I’m not. You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“Do I?”
“Yes,” Felitïa pleaded. “I would hope so, at least. What reason would I have?”
“I don’t know. Because…”
Chica had trusted Felitïa too.
And had died because of it.
No, that wasn’t true, or fair. Felitïa wasn’t responsible for Chica’s death. The Will-Breaker was a harbinger of destruction, but not the source. The Secrets said she would decrease the harm others would cause. That was why Akna trusted her. That was why she’d agreed to go with her when she would have rather stayed in Ninifin to fight for her home. Felitïa was the only one she trusted enough to even consider that with.
Except Meleng. And Meleng trusted Felitïa. That was enough for Akna.
She sat on the edge of her bed. “I’m sorry. I do trust you. I’m just stressed. Maybe it really is just exhaustion.” She lowered her head and stared at the ground.
Felitïa sat beside her. “It’s fine. We’re both stressed, and stress can make us say things we regret. Trust me, years of living with Zandrue have taught me not to take offence from words spoken in haste.”
Akna looked up. Felitïa was smiling at her.
“At breakfast, nobody mentioned the incident with Danel?”
Felitïa shook her head. “Danel wasn’t there either, so maybe he hasn’t said anything yet. His father doesn’t have a lot of patience left with him and he knows it.”
“Maybe,” Akna said.
“Anita asked after you though. I think she likes you.”
Akna eyed Felitïa. “You think?”
Felitïa snickered. “Okay, I know.”
Akna smirked. “She seems nice, and she’s kind of cute.”
Felitïa smiled.
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Akna said, “If it’s just exhaustion, what do I do?”
Felitïa shrugged. “Get more sleep like last night. That’ll make a world of difference.”
“If only it were that simple. But last night was a fluke. Every time I close my eyes, I…”
“I don’t think last night was a fluke. Our bodies can only take so much exhaustion. Eventually, you had to sleep. I’ll have to eventually too.”
“It’s just… You didn’t see. Chica I mean. You didn’t see what…” Akna fought back the tears, but how long could she manage? She wished Meleng was here.
But he wasn’t. It was just Felitïa. Did she trust Felitïa?
Yes. Yes she did.
She looked up at Felitïa. “Do you mind if I pretend you’re Meleng for a couple minutes?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Sometimes, I’ll cry into Meleng’s chest. I could use that right now.”
Felitïa smiled. “Of course.” She put her arm around Akna’s shoulders.
Akna leaned over sideways, rested her head on Felitïa’s chest, and began to cry.
