MAJORA: (n.) the second-highest spell category.
Majora Spells are major spells requiring the fresh blood of someone else, either taken with permission or given freely. Examples of Majora Spells include: summoning a natural disaster or inflicting a deadly disease.
—From Rules of Magic by Queen Callidora the Valiant
“I ENCHANTED THE JACKET,” said Rune, standing in her shift as Verity pinned up her hair.
“Gideon’s jacket? That was bold.” The words were mumbled around the pin clenched between Verity’s teeth. “Where did you put the spellmark?”
“In one of the interior pockets.”
Rune had drawn the bloody mark for Truth Teller inside the pocket a few hours ago and sent the package off. If it arrived on time, and Gideon wore it, Rune would pull the answers she needed from him like loose threads from a sweater.
Rune was determined to be more ruthless tonight. After three days of his silence—no telegrams, no flowers, no more requests for walks—Rune had to conclude he’d forgotten her. Normally after such an encounter, her suitors tried to secure her affection by sending extravagant bouquets or inviting her on intimate picnics in the countryside.
Not Gideon Sharpe. Clearly, he couldn’t care less.
“There,” said Verity, twisting up the last red-gold strand and putting one final pin in Rune’s hair. “All done.”
Rune glanced into the mirror. In a style that looked deceptively simple, her friend had braided several thin strands and weaved them into the loose
waves, then pinned all of it up in an elegant bun at the back of Rune’s head. Having grown up with older sisters who’d taught her all their tricks,
Verity always did Rune’s hair better than she ever could.
“What are you going to wear?” asked Verity, who was still in the white blouse and pleated skirt of her school uniform. She’d come straight from class to get Rune ready for the Luminaries Dinner. Verity might be displeased with Rune courting Gideon, but she was still committed to helping her.
As Rune went to fetch her new dress, Lizbeth knocked at the door.
“A telegram for you, Miss Rune,” said the housekeeper, setting it down on the dresser.
Rune picked it up, her pulse quickening. She broke the seal and unfolded it.
MISS RUNE WINTERS WINTERSEA HOUSE
I WILL BE LATE TO DINNER TONIGHT. THERE IS A MATTER THAT NEEDS MY IMMEDIATE ATTENTION.
GIDEON
Her shoulders fell, along with her hopes. This was the first she’d heard from him in three days, and there was neither an apology nor a promise to make it up to her.
Is there truly some urgent matter, or is he avoiding me?
“Who is it from?” asked Verity, peering over her shoulder.
Rune shook off the sting and held the telegram out to her friend. “Gideon’s going to be late.”
Verity’s eyes narrowed on the message. She glanced up. “Will your spell last long enough?”
“It should last until midnight.” The magic would fade a little as the night wore on, but that wasn’t what she was worried about.
What if he doesn’t come at all? What if he’s changed his mind about me?
Maybe their conversation had convinced him she was exactly as shallow as she pretended to be. Or her kissing wasn’t up to his standards. Or
maybe, upon seeing her fully undressed, Gideon had decided he was no longer interested.
Rune chewed at her thumbnail. She wasn’t used to being rejected. She hated feeling like she wasn’t good enough, smart enough, or pretty enough. Was this how a real courtship made you feel? Fragile and unsteady? Like the slightest breeze could knock you over?
Worse than all of this, if Gideon didn’t come tonight, he’d ruin her plan before she could even put it into action. She needed him to come, to be interested in her, so she could get the information required to rescue Seraphine.
“I’m coming with you,” said Verity, wrenching Rune from her thoughts. “What? No. Don’t ruin your evening.” Rune sat on her bed. “You have
homework to do, and tests to study for.”
“And you have to give that dreadful speech. All alone. The least I can do is provide moral support. Who knows? Maybe I can do some poking around while I’m there. I could pretend to get lost, and when some helpful guard escorts me back, I’ll ask a few innocent questions about the prison’s security …”
In truth, if Gideon was going to jilt her, and so publicly, Rune wanted Verity close by. Looking her friend’s uniform up and down, she said, “You’ll have to borrow a dress.”
“Obviously,” said Verity, smiling as she moved toward Rune’s closet full of clothes.
“Take whatever you like,” said Rune. “Except for the green one hanging on the door.”
It was the gown Gideon had made her.
She’d sewn a hidden pocket inside it. As her friend searched for something to wear, Rune opened the false wall of her casting room and stepped inside. As she went to retrieve her blood vial—in case she needed any extra spells tonight—a book on the desk caught her eye.
Rune rarely left spell books lying around, and she didn’t immediately recognize this one. She stepped up to the desk, glancing down at its gilt edges and thick spine. Opening to the first page, she realized it was one of Nan’s rarer spell books, full of powerful curses.
That’s odd.
The spells in this book were too powerful for Rune to cast. So why was it on the desk? She didn’t remember bringing it down from the shelves.
Maybe Verity did? Her friend liked to search these books for new spells that might be useful for Rune to learn.
The only other person who knew about this room was Alex.
And Lizbeth. Lizbeth sometimes came in uninvited to dust the shelves and sweep the floor.
Symbols graced the spell book’s pages, along with stylized illustrations and detailed descriptions. As she flipped through it, the book fell open near the middle, to a spell called Earth Sunderer.
On the left page were seven golden spellmarks, each one more complicated than the last. Beneath them lay a description of what the curse did. The opposite page contained an illustration of a town carved in half. An earthquake had ruptured the city, breaking buildings and severing streets while the town’s inhabitants screamed in fear.
“Don’t even think about trying that one.”
Rune glanced up to find Verity beside her, peering down at the page, a dress hanging over her arm.
“If an unlocking spell makes you faint, this spell will put you in a coma.” Turning the book so she could see it better, Verity’s gaze skimmed the description. “You need someone else’s blood—and a lot of it—to cast this one.”
The words reminded Rune of her conversation with Gideon in the woods, and the things he’d said about the Sister Queens. If anyone knew the truth, it would be Verity. Her sisters were friends with the Rosebloods, and they had often cast spells together.
“Verity? Do you think the Roseblood sisters used Arcana spells?” Verity glanced up from the spell book’s pages. “Why do you ask?”
“Gideon told me something strange the other night.” A warm burn moved across Rune’s cheeks as she thought of him on the beach. Of his clothes hitting the sand and the sea sluicing over his chest.
Of his mouth on hers.
She forged ahead. “He accused Cressida and her sisters of killing people and using the blood to cast spells. He said they were corrupted by bad magic.”
“And you believe him?”
Rune thought of the brand on Gideon’s chest: the raised, red skin in the shape of a rose and crescent. That scar alone seemed proof that Cressida, at least, was more than capable of extreme cruelty. “I don’t know what to believe. It would explain why they were so powerful.”
Verity’s eyes grew clouded. “This was how my stepfather turned my mother against my sisters.”
Rune drew back, startled. “What?”
“My sisters used each other’s blood for their Majora spells. With permission, of course. But my stepfather walked in on them one day, in the middle of a casting. After, he declared their magic an abomination and convinced my mother the only way for my sisters to cleanse themselves and be pure again was to beat the wickedness out of them.”
Rune stared in horror at Verity, who’d never told her any of this.
Seeing the way her friend trembled, Rune reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “That’s awful.”
Verity’s grip tightened on Rune, her knuckles turning bone white. “He would lock them up for days. Beat their bare backs with belts. Force them to kneel for hours on broken glass.” As if reliving the scenes, Verity dug her fingernails into Rune’s skin.
“The worst of it was, my mother let him. She’d lost our baby sister in childbirth years before, and never recovered from her grief. My stepfather used her fragile state against her, convincing her that my sisters were wicked to their cores. So when she heard their screams, she did nothing. She sided with him over her own daughters.”
And then she handed those daughters over to the Blood Guard, thought Rune.
No wonder Verity hated her parents. This was why she wore herself down to keep her scholarship—so she’d never have to go home or be at their mercy.
But …
Ouch.
Rune glanced down to see her friend’s fingernails about to break her skin. “Verity, you’re hurting me.”
For a moment, it seemed like Verity wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. But she shook her head and let go. “S-sorry.”
Rune pulled her hand toward her chest, studying the little half-moon marks in her skin. “It’s all right. You’re upset.”
“My sisters weren’t corrupt,” said Verity, her eyes pleading with Rune to believe her. “They weren’t abominations. Witches have been using each other’s blood to amplify their spells for centuries. There’s nothing wrong with what they did.”
Verity nodded to the book on Rune’s desk, lying open to Earth Sunderer.
“That spell, for example. No witch can cast something this powerful using solely her own blood. She’d seriously hurt herself.”
Your sisters weren’t using each other’s blood against their will, though, Rune wanted to point out. Which was the accusation Gideon had made against the queens.
But Verity was distressed by the memory. And Rune couldn’t blame her.
So she let it go.
“Come on,” said Rune, grabbing the blood vial she’d come in here to get, then eyeing the dress hanging over Verity’s arm—one of last season’s fashions. “Let’s find you something better to wear.”
