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anything that had to do with the running of the country. Affairs of the state weren’t a figurehead’s business. She was just the ‘Manifestation of Spirit’, according to her mother’s interpretation of the prophecy etched into her spirit or, as the some of the Vanquished had called it, her soul. What right did she have to know anything? Or to make any decisions or choices?
    “One month. Or until I am healed. Then we will talk about all the things you don’t want to say.” It was childish, but Theo didn’t bother to wait for an answer, which would most likely just be more platitudes.
    She didn’t slam the door on the way out, so that was one maturity point in her favor.

CHAPTER FOUR

    Restless after the barely useful confrontation with her mother, Theo slipped by the guards, and wandered out to the stables. Hugh was there, training a yearling with the help of his horse, the Beast. Not wanting to be caught watching him, she chose to wander away through the pasture and to the edge of the forest.
    She felt a little bad about constantly slipping by the guards, who, granted, were only there for her own protection, but she found it terribly difficult to organize her thoughts while surrounded by the energy of other people. And the reason she was always surrounded by people; her prophecy.
    Everything was always about her prophecy.
    Every little thing.
    Her entire life was controlled by a series of words and images read by a sensitive mind mage at her birth, when she was eleven, and again on the eve of her sixteenth birthday. She is the fountain through which Spirit flows. Her strength shall unite air and fire, earth and water, with human and beast. Through her, all become Spirit, and Spirit reigns. Her mother had obviously decided that the image of the fountain meant Theo was the manifestation of spirit, and had been grooming her since birth to reign through Spirit. And, as she just discovered, her uncle obviously believed that strength was the pertinent word. She’d been previously unaware of this divide between the siblings. She’d always thought that Rhea ruled without question, but obviously her brother, Dougal, was someone who also wielded a great deal power in Cascadia.
    So everyone else knew who she was except her, or rather, who she was supposed to be, except her. Not only was she missing ten years, but she also wasn’t totally settled with what she remembered from before. She didn’t want to be the person her mother was grooming her to be, and yet was there any other choice?
    While she desperately tried to connect all the missing pieces, her wandering led to the edge of the forest and soon she found herself surrounded by trees. She felt the castle’s protective wards brush over her as she passed through, but even this didn’t give her pause. She was drawn toward the cliffs and their unmatched view of the ocean. She’d always felt safe there. It was her place.  
    The path was well worn, but still mysterious as it twisted through the tall cedars and firs. The dry needles underfoot cushioned her footsteps. The bark was rough underneath her fingers. It was calm and quiet here. At first, the sun barely penetrated the canopy of trees, but then the view before her cracked open into the expansive wild blue of the Salish Sea, and the cloud-streaked azure sky. The muffled, almost ancient stillness of the forest was swallowed by the crash of the waves thundering against the cliff face hundreds of feet below.  
    It wasn’t until she stood on the very edge of the cliff, with only the blueness of the water and sky and wind in her peripheral vision, that she realized that her skirt was damp practically up to her calves, and that the light sweater she’d grabbed did little to stop the sea breeze from cutting through her. Was it unseasonably cold, or was her body just accustomed to being warmer?
    She could feel the castle with all its energy still looming behind her, even though miles of forest stretched between her and