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labor, not rip apart planks of wood. And it always reacted how it should—uncontrollable, but it did what my people needed it to do.
    What happened ?
    Sir flexes his hand and shoots a questioning gaze at me. “My queen. Why did you do that?”
    I shake my head. “I didn’t mean to. The magic downthere—that barrier—it did something. I don’t feel . . . right.”
    My chest is so cold. My heart is ice, my limbs snow, my every breath should be a cloud of condensation. The magic felt awakened before, but now it feels—unleashed.
    Sir eases forward. “We’ll figure it out, my queen. We’ll send someone else down there, someone who isn’t connected to a Royal Conduit.”
    I launch to my feet again. “No, it’s too dangerous. No one can go down there.”
    “We found it, Meira,” Theron intercedes, his voice hoarse. “The magic chasm, after all this time, and you don’t want to at least investigate it? The world hasn’t seen such power in centuries. Imagine the good we could do with this!”
    “And imagine the evil!” I shout, unable to keep my worry at bay. “Did you see what I just did? My magic could’ve hurt Sir! And you want more ? Even if we could get to it, the world won’t receive magic the way you want it to. You believe your father would use more magic for good? Maybe in Cordell’s eyes, but how will it affect my kingdom?”
    Theron drops the unlit candle and match he had still been holding and steps closer to me. “The world needs this,” he states. “My father isn’t the only one with plans—we could see to it that the magic would benefit everyone. Your people would all have their own magic. They’d havethe strength needed to keep anything like Angra’s takeover from happening again.”
    “You can’t tell your father we found it,” I beg. “I know why you fear Angra, but we are stronger than him. You are nothing like him .”
    Theron’s eyes narrow in confusion, darting over my face. I pause, waiting for understanding to pull forward his memories, but he only cocks his head, perplexed.
    Doesn’t he remember what Angra did to him? Wasn’t that real?
    A door opens deeper in the cottage and voices slam into us.
    “Is she awake?” Nessa asks.
    Dendera chirps when they stumble into the room. “What happened to the door?”
    While Sir, Nessa, and Dendera drop into quiet discussion, I draw closer to Theron, lowering my voice. “Please don’t tell Noam.”
    “My men saw it too. Your people know we found it. He’ll find out eventually.”
    “Only a few of your men were down there, and my people will keep it quiet. Please, Theron. Just give me time to figure out what to do.”
    My heart knots up in the pause that follows.
    “When you were asleep—” Theron finally says. “You sounded like you were scared.”
    He didn’t agree to anything. He changed the subject.
    “I dreamed of Angra. And you.” I hesitate, not wanting to hurt him, my words hammers and him a porcelain vase. “In Abril.”
    Theron jolts back from me.
    I try to wave it away. “It was just a dream—”
    He snatches my hand midwave and holds it, every muscle in his body stiff.
    “I don’t remember much about it,” he whispers, each word weighted by three months of keeping it inside. “Whole days just . . . gone. But I do remember Angra telling me what he planned to do with you. What he planned to let Herod—” Theron’s voice cracks. “Angra used magic on me in Abril, that much I do know. He shouldn’t have been able to—Royal Conduits can’t affect people not of their kingdom. And if magic like that exists, we need protection.”
    My arms twitch to lean forward and wrap around him. But despite his pain, despite the memories throbbing in my mind of Angra’s torture, I can’t agree to what Theron wants.
    “Then it’s even more important that the door stays closed. If it’s used wrong, it could aid the very magic you fear.”
    Theron grimaces. He’s unconvinced, but Nessa rushes over to me.
    “My