Outside of Lorelei’s chambers, Noah almost fell over a small ash-haired figure huddled next to the doorstep.

“Anuk!”

The girl timidly lifted her head and fidgeted a bit, her beautiful blue eyes rimmed with red peering at him.

“Highness,” the child’s voice shook, “is Lady Shimshi better? C… Can I see her?”

“Sorry, little chichik. The lady is sick and needs rest. We shouldn’t bother her needlessly.”

“Uhm… Can I help somehow then?” Anuk was persistent. “I can wipe her forehead like mama did when Kai was sick. Or draw cold water from the well, or…”

“The best we can do is to wait patiently…” began Noah and patted her head, but, as her pleading gaze bore straight into his soul, he continued. “Still, if you mention the Duchess in your prayers to the Mother Above, she might get better sooner.”

“Yes, yes! I’ll do that, Highness! Mir-Mama would definitely help Lady Shimshi.” The child brightened. “And I’ll tell dada and Kai to pray too. And my friend Tina from the laundry. And uncle Lowen and the stable boys. I’ll be going, Highness!”

Anuk curtsied hastily and, faster than a released arrow, she darted off.

Looking after the child, Noah’s lips involuntarily curved up and the tightness in his heart lessened by a smidgen.

“With such young saplings, the future of Norden is secured.” Duncan chuckled.

“It could be. But it’s still up to us to nurture them and keep the clouds away until they mature.”

Noah went down the hallway, his eyes feasting on the lush greenery outside the windows, hoping to disperse the darkness plaguing his soul. Alas, his mind, as usual, was hostage to the weight of a ruler’s duty. His next words came out quiet and heavy.

“Any news on Nekor and the ones that escaped with him?”

“We’re still searching,” replied Duncan grimly.

“What I want to know,” Noah gritted his teeth, “is how they managed to slip through our defenses in the first place.”

“Well, no one expected one of Twilight Pass’ shamans to build a wall between us and the window and create an ice-slide from the fourth floor to the inner courtyard, and cast a paralysis hex on the guards trying to stop them. When we found the chap, he was stone-dead.”

Noah rubbed his neck and a curse escaped his lips. Something didn’t feel right. Even with all that Duncan said, it didn’t explain how they snuck out of the castle. Because of the way Ildemar was built, its northern side climbing up the cliffs around the fjord’s waterfront, the inner courtyard of the guest rooms ended on a vertical stone terrace. It then plunged down a good thirty meters to the courtyard in front of the castle’s main gate. And there were guards stationed there. Yet nobody had spotted them. Later, Aiden’s men had found traces at a narrow passageway that only the castle’s inhabitants knew of. And there was more.

How were the guardian hexes tampered with in the first place? For an outsider, be it Akh-Moren or any of his Red Hands, interfering with Ildemar’s defenses was impossible. Noah suspected that the cult used Shana’s powers to try and overwhelm Gregor’s spells. Yet the hexes banning the use of outsiders’ magic between Ildemar’s walls was cast by Yanosh. Untrained as she was, his daughter could have never managed to tamper with them with raw power alone. And since it was unlikely that Akh-Moren had a profound understanding of the castle’s defenses…

“I want every single person from Wolf Mountain investigated, everyone aged six and up, shaman or not. Discreetly. There is no longer any doubt, we have-”

“A mole,” Duncan finished his sentence. “Our Lord Steward, the untrusting weasel he is, sent in the first reports this morning. They are waiting on your desk. But lad, be honest, do you think Gregor’s kin would betray you? After all, they are life-bonded to you. They gave an oath before Yanosh.”

“There is no such thing as an unbreakable oath. At a certain price, even magical pledges can be twisted or lifted entirely.” Noah’s forehead creased. “Besides, they might be doing it without realizing it. Like… Shana.”

Duncan chewed on his lip for some time before asking:

“Does the inquiry also include half-bloods?”

Anuk’s cheerful face flashed before Noah’s eyes. His lips thinned.

“Yes.”

Burdened by the silence that followed, the two men strode further, their heads hanging low. As they entered the half-open gallery facing the inner courtyard, stripes of light and shadow paved their way. The humming of bees welcomed them, carried by the warm breeze. The gardener and his helper were trimming a few bushes not far away, their lively chatter matching the delightful weather.

Without any warning, Noah leapt over the low railing, landing in a flowerbed with only the slightest rustling of gravel. Plucking a handful of fresh blue flowers, he returned to the gallery, his nimble movements sparing the poor gardener from the shock of observing the castle lord playing a thief in his own garden.

Dusting off his clothes, Noah felt Duncan’s stare on his back.

“Shana likes flowers. And these have the blue of her eyes. Maybe it’ll help and this time she’ll…”

The words stuck in his throat. He coughed briefly and resumed his stride. That’s why he didn’t see the old knight’s pained face and his low whisper didn’t reach him.

“Those flowers… Oh, my dear, dear boy.”

***

Entering from the sunny anteroom, Shana’s bedroom seemed desolate and gloomy in its curtained twilight. Several shamans were gathered there, chanting quietly the verses of a hex. The floor around the large white bed was adorned with red and blue sigils that sparkled from the moonstone ash mixed in the dye.

As Noah and Duncan approached, an old woman left the Binshi circle and welcomed them.

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“Feeling better, little wolf?” There was motherly warmth in Kash-baba’s voice. “The aftereffects from the bezbolek potion must have been quite severe.”

“I can hardly complain about some sore muscles, baba,” replied Noah while secretly shuddering. The burning agony of muscles and tendons on the brink of tearing and the memory of his spine, twisting and bending close to the point of breaking, were still fresh in his mind. Clasping hands behind his back to hide their slight trembling, he put on a calm face as he spoke to the old shaman.

“How is Shana? Any changes?”

Kash-baba sighed and shook her head.

“None. She doesn’t react or speak but drinks a bit of water and eats if fed. We are trying to get in touch with her spirit but… she is negating our hexes.”

“What do you mean?” Duncan interjected, his bushy brows knitted in worry.

“The child nullifies any magic that comes in contact with her.” The old woman played with the string of bone beads in her hand. “Honestly, it’s the first time I’ve seen such complete rejection without using an incantation or a talisman, or a charm. She’s like that one Limerian Saint… What was his name?”

“Saint Arslan,” murmured Noah. “Do you think it has anything to do with her breaking the Star?”

“I don’t think it does.” Kash-baba shook her head. “After all, she was able to hex afterward. No, I think that she is most likely rejecting her Star-gazer powers as a whole. Since our magic originated with the first Star-gazer blessed by Mir-Mama, her refusing her gift influences our hexes.”

“Wait, wait! You mean to tell me that the little lass can rob you of your magic just by shutting down her own powers?” Duncan’s eyes rounded but the old shaman rewarded him with cackling laughter.

“Don’t celebrate too early, my Limerian friend. Many generations span between the child and the first Star-gazer. Mir-Mama’s magic has been ingrained into our souls and bodies and will persist even if she denies her gifts. But she can make it hard to cast hexes on her.”

“Who's celebrating!? I’m just-”

“May I see her?” Noah’s quiet plea interrupted the two.

Duncan lowered his head and coughed. Next to him, Kash-baba nodded and led Noah to the bed.

Shana sat in a nest of cushions with arms wrapped around her legs. Her chin rested on her knees and her white hair draped messily over her shoulders. Her eyes, previously lively and sparkling like two precious sapphires, now stared unblinking and empty into something only she could see. With her fine features and pale, expressionless face, the girl looked like a doll made from the finest Shareeban porcelain, but the loneliness and cold she exuded were more akin to that of a statue of snow and ice.

As the old Binshi approached her, Shana remained unperturbed as if there was nothing else in the room but air.

“Moren-gadir, someone precious has come to see you.” Kash-baba’s words brought no reaction to the child’s face. The old shaman sighed and brushed away a strand of hair from her face. “Dear child, your father is here.”

For the first time, there was something like emotion rippling over her face. Shana’s eyelids fluttered, focusing on the man who carefully sat on the edge of the bed.

“Starlet.” Noah’s voice shook. “It’s me. Can you hear me, my love?”

His eyes stung and there was nothing more he wished for in the world right now than to cradle Shana in his arms. To see her smile. To hear her call him ‘papa’. He reached out, his fingers stopping inches away from her cheek, hesitating to touch the child.

“My love, don’t be scared. I’m here. Everything is fine.”

His words did indeed seem to reach the child. Shana shuddered and her lips parted.

“Pa… pa…”

Noah’s face brightened.

“Yes!” His fingers gently caressed her cheek. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Papa…”

The girl’s eyes rounded as she stared straight into Noah. But there was something wrong. She looked into him, through him, but not at him. Her hands released her knees and slowly crept up her shaking shoulders and clawed into her hair.

“NO!” She suddenly screamed.

“Starlet, what’s wrong?” Noah carefully placed his hand on the child’s shoulders.

“Don’t touch!” Shana’s voice rose up and with it, a wave of chill slammed against Noah.

He shouted in pain and let go immediately as her body had become so cold that it burned his fingers through the cloth. But his reaction made things worse.

Seeing his blistering skin, Shana let out an ear-piercing scream and fell on the pillows, clutching her head, as tears rolled down her cheeks. The Elders from Wolf Mountain jumped up from their seats and hurriedly surrounded the thrashing and howling child, while Kash-baba ushered Noah and Duncan to the side.

“Are you alright!” Duncan frantically checked Noah’s burn before turning to the Binshi. “What was that? What’s wrong with Shana?”

“I… don’t know.” The old shama seemed just as flustered as them. “But you shouldn’t blame her. It wasn’t a conscious act-”

“My fault…” muttered Noah, warranting a strange look from both of them. “It’s all my fault. She’s like that because of me.”

He balled his injured hand and his eyes reddened. Turning on his heels he exited the room without a word.

***

It hurt! It hurt so much!

Huddled between the soft blankets, Shana screamed her heart out.

It hurt but the pain didn’t come from her body. What tore in agony was her very own soul.

She had hurt him. Again. She always did. He bled for her. He burned for her. All she did was cause him pain. She wasn’t just a burden. She was a plague! She was the enemy!

Shana’s throat tore from her screams but she couldn't stop. She didn’t hear the words of the Elders. Neither did she feel their touch. In her world, there was only one face. And that face was twisted in agony.

Through her tears, she saw a small bundle of blue between the white sheets. A few crushed stems of forget-me-nots.

But she wanted to forget! She wanted to forget his twisted face as he swung his sword at her; the blue flames she had sent at him, aiming to rob his life away. He was right to hate her. She had done terrible things! She had no right to be near him. Her powers… they were evil. They only hurt others. They could only be used to do wrong.

She wanted to forget. To fade away. A dream. She could dream of the past. Of a time when she didn’t have powers. But even back then, even when he smiled gently at her and lulled her to sleep with a gentle song, the horrid scar across his face stood witness to her crime.

Her existence was evil. Everything she did, every choice she made, was destined to end in disaster. Why had she listened to those whispers? Why had she trusted ghosts instead of the living? Why had her dada betrayed her!? Why… Why could she see the future if she couldn’t change a thing? If attempting to do so only brought greater pain to the ones she loved?

It was better to forget. Forget the world. Forget herself. Maybe then, the pain would stop.

Little by little, she calmed down. Her body relaxed and her tears dried out. Why should one cry? There was nothing left - an empty husk, staring at a world she no longer knew, inhabited by people she had forgotten, colored by memories she’d never made.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t forget him.