It was such a rare thing for her mind to be quiet. It wasn’t just the Staff—although that was a major contributor—but also all the people around her, their thoughts and feelings flooding her head. It was so incredibly rare that she was truly alone in her head. She needed to savour it.

Felitïa sighed.

But there was so much work to do, too. Between assisting Agernon with both the Staff and Corvinian, research at the Hall of Knowledge, and mixing with the nobility, there was so little time for anything else—especially relaxation.

And she didn’t get nearly enough sleep. She was sleeping a little better these days without the Staff around, but not as much better as she had hoped. She was still restless at night and woke up frequently. And she wasn’t sleeping for long enough periods. Five to six hours at best, usually less.

Like now.

It was late and she really should be in bed. But she was glad for the quiet, both in Belone’s palace and in her head. Plus, she had used the time to study The Foretellings of Eleuia, something else she’d had very little time for. It really should be higher on her priorities, and would be if the rest of the world didn’t keep inserting its priorities. But she had spent the last couple hours sitting in Belone’s library going through her notes and cataloguing them.

She had finally compiled a list of all the foretellings that directly mentioned the Will-Breaker, plus a few that might be oblique references. They were about as enlightening as she had expected—which was to say, not very—but there were some interesting things in them. Now she had copied them all out and put them in chronological order where possible, she hoped something might be revealed.

When the nations of the world come together in meeting for the first time since the days of old, the Will-Breaker will first make herself known.

This was the first direct reference to the Will-Breaker, but there was at least one earlier one that was an indirect reference.

In the first quarter of the twenty-fourth century, at a well will contact be made.

Felitïa knew all too well what that had to be referring to, and thus she had it right at the beginning of her list. Contact. She had made contact with… That was the problem. She didn’t know with whom.

Moving past the Scovese prophecy, the next on her list didn’t have a precise date attached to it, but it seemed probable that it was the next to occur.

When rebellion and civil war come to devastate Ninifin, the Will-Breaker too will come. Although her attempts to avert disaster will end in failure and tragedy, her interventions will save lives that would otherwise be lost. For this reason, it is the will of Eleuia that the Will-Breaker be welcomed into Ninifin lands.

The question Felitïa found herself pondering was, had it happened yet? At first glance, her recent experiences in Ninifin seemed to qualify, but the more she thought about it, the prophecy seemed to describe something bigger. Rebellion? Yes. Civil war? The events never quite expanded that far. There was failure and tragedy, yes, but was Ninifin devastated by the events? Maybe. It was hard to be sure.

Perhaps it referred to something still in the future. She would have to return Nin-Akna to Ninifin eventually. That would bring more rebellion. She had resolved not to get involved next time, but what if she ended up with no choice?

The sound of the door opening and closing made Felitïa look up. A short figure entered the room, head lowered as usual.

“Apologies,” Plavistalorik said, only looking up for the briefest moment. “I did not mean to disturb you. This room is not normally occupied at this time.”

“There is nothing to apologise for,” Felitïa said. “You’re allowed in here as much as I am.”

Plavistalorik bowed her head deeper and continued into the room. She walked with a slow pace over to the fireplace and the single shelf of books, recoiling ever so slightly at the heat from the fire.

“I’m actually glad you’re here. We’ve never had a chance to talk and get to know one another.”

Plavistalorik pulled a book off the shelf and moved away from the fireplace. She looked back at Felitïa. “We have not.” She continued towards the door.

“You’ve been in Quorge in Lord Belone’s palace for a long time. Not many Isyar stay outside Isyaria so long.” Plavistalorik had been instrumental in kidnapping Jorvan last year, but Jorvan had said he believed she was in trouble and being coerced somehow.

Plavistalorik stopped moving, but didn’t look back. “Yes, you are correct.”

There wasn’t much in the way of emotion coming from the Isyar, other than a bit of wariness. It was typical of Plavistalorik. She always seemed serene but wary.

“Would you like to join me for a little while?” Felitïa asked.

Plavistalorik looked back, but kept her head low. “That is a kind offer, but I have what I came for, and should return to my chambers now.”

“I understand.” It was probably for the best. Plavistalorik would probably ask about what she was doing, and Felitïa wasn’t sure she wanted to tell the Isyar too much about it. Without knowing what kind of pressure Plavistalorik was under, Felitïa couldn’t be sure how much she could trust her.

“Thank you.” Plavistalorik took a few more steps towards the door, but stopped again. “I am curious though. What has you up so late?”

“Just some research.”

“I see. Research related to the boy you spoke of?”

“Yes,” Felitïa said. “You were very sceptical of him last time.”

Plavistalorik’s wings twitched. “Scepticism can be a healthy thing. I did not mean offence by it, though Danel Belone’s reporting of it might have given that impression. I apologise for that.”

Felitïa shook her head. “You don’t owe me any apology. If Danel misrepresented you, that’s not your fault.”

“Thank you, your Highness. I also apologise for hurting Jorvanultumn. I wish…” She paused and turned around. Her wings drooped, but she raised her head, giving Felitïa the longest look she’d had at the Isyar’s small grey eyes. Even in the dim light, there was a sadness noticeable in them. “I wish there had been...that is to say, I wish things could have been different.” For the first time, emotions other than wariness came from Plavistalorik: worry and a touch of fear.

“Thank you for your apology. I will pass it on to Jorvan next time I see him.”

“Now, if you will excuse me, your Highness, I really must go now.”

Felitïa nodded. “Of course.”

Plavistalorik turned around again and headed for the doors at a pace Felitïa would not have described as hurried for anyone else, but quicker than Felitïa could remember from the Isyar before.

After the door closed, Felitïa sighed. Another mystery. Who could have enough of a hold over Plavistalorik to frighten her? Felitïa had never seen a demonstration of Plavistalorik’s magic, but she had bested Jorvan and had brought down one of the gargoyles over the entrance to the Hall of Knowledge—had threatened to bring the whole building down. She was obviously powerful. Anyone who could frighten her had to be considerably more powerful.

It occurred to Felitïa she didn’t know what magical discipline Plavistalorik practised. Bringing down the Hall of Knowledge ruled out mentalism, but any other was possible. She would have to make some enquiries. Knowing Plavistalorik’s capabilities might narrow down what could frighten her.

A problem for another time, though.

Sometimes, it felt like everything had to be delayed to another time.

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Felitïa turned her attention back to The Foretellings of Eleuia. A thought occurred to her.

Be on constant vigilant look-out for the Isyar, who will bring the weight of time upon you. The intended of this message will know who she is when she reads it.

Felitïa had made note of this particular foretelling, suspecting it addressed her, even though the fact she wasn’t certain seemed to rule herself out. Could the Isyar it referred to be Plavistalorik?

There was a weight upon Plavistalorik and if Felitïa got involved, there would certainly be a weight upon her too. But what was meant by the weight of time? Did that apply in any way to Plavistalorik? How was she supposed to look out for an unnamed Isyar if she was given no clues to that Isyar’s identity? Assuming the message was even for her.

There she went again: assuming the foretellings would come true. She hated the idea that they could be true and what that meant, but she was quick to fall into the trap of believing them.

But some had come true already, and that was terrifying.

As were some of the foretellings. Like the one she’d discovered that night a few weeks ago.

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.

That one bothered her every time she read or thought about it. Of course, the name Will-Breaker had always implied what the foretelling said of her, but she didn’t have to like it. Perhaps one way to exert her own free will was to make certain she never bent the will of someone else to her control.

In 2333, the demons will come for the Will-Breaker.

She had needed Nin-Akna’s assistance translating that one, since the Ninifin word for demon had never come up during her time in Ninifin. According to Nin-Akna, however, the word more accurately meant anything or anyone in service to the Dark Lady, from Volgs to Darkness Worshippers to creatures from the depths of hell itself. However, Volgs and Darkers were already after her, so it presumably didn’t refer to them. What it did refer to was hard to say. She might know soon though. 2333 was only a month away.

Keep safe and secure the Holiest of holies. In 2342, the queen’s consort, disciple of the Will-Breaker, will learn its secrets and use it to contact the gods themselves and bring more of Ninussa’s words to her people.

Felitïa didn’t like the idea she might have a disciple, though perhaps Eleuia had mistaken someone working with Felitïa as a follower or disciple. And what was the Holiest of holies? It was not something mentioned while she was in Ninifin, and Nin-Akna was not aware of what it might be either. Could it be the Staff of Sestin? That would explain why Fra-Atl had been so distressed when it appeared to be missing. Though there was also whatever Fra-Atl had died trying to show her—whatever lay under the confluence of the Jaguar and Toucan rivers. Could that be the Holiest of holies? Whatever the case, it was not something Felitïa was going to be able to check any time soon. Still, there was lots of time to find out apparently. This event was still nine years away. Who would be queen of Ninifin then? Nin-Xtab? Nin-Akna? Someone else?

The door opened again and Feodor Belone shambled into the room. He was wearing a pale green silk robe and was barefoot. He paused. “Your Highness?” He motioned to a guard standing at the door behind him. “Wait outside.”

The guard bowed and closed the door.

Belone came over to the table. “I didn’t expect to find anyone here at this time of night.” His voice was rough, and his eyes and the skin surrounding them were red.

Felitïa began to gather her papers up into a single pile. “It seems it’s the night for it.”

“Oh?”

“Plavistalorik was here just a few minutes ago. It seems we’re all up late.”

“Plavistalorik keeps odd hours, so it doesn’t surprise me.” Belone coughed hoarsely and sniffled.

“Why are you up so late?” Felitïa asked. “Forgive me, your Lordship, but with your illness, you probably should be asleep.”

Belone laughed and then began to cough again. It went on for a while, and Felitïa leaned towards him, but he held up his hand to stop her. After a moment, he got the coughing under control. “There’s your reason,” he rasped. “Damn cough is keeping me awake, so I thought I might as well read a little to bide the time. May I ask why you’re up so late, your Highness?”

“Research.”

“Research you don’t wish me to see?” He indicated the papers she had now piled up and the book she had now closed.

“No, it’s not that. I was just finishing up anyway, and wanted to make room for you.”

“It’s a big table,” he said and took a seat beside her. He indicated the book. “May I?”

Felitïa hesitated. However, there was little likelihood he could read it, so she slid it over to him.

Belone looked at the spine, then flipped the book open to the middle. He frowned. “Folithan?”

Felitïa reached over. “Ninifin. It’s a book of prophecies.” She closed the book and dragged it back over to herself. “It’s nothing important.”

“I’ve never been one to put much faith in prophecy,” Belone said.

“Me neither, but it’s helping to give me some context.”

“For that boy?”

Felitïa hesitated again before nodding. “It’s related.”

Belone rubbed his eyes. “You still don’t trust me, do you, your Highness? I assure you, I am far more willing to believe what you say about the boy than my son is.”

Felitïa placed the book on top of her pile of papers. “It’s not that. You’ve given me quite a few reasons not to trust you, your Lordship.”

He sighed. “You refer to the last time you were here. I did what I had to. What I was ordered to.”

Felitïa shook her head and picked up the book and papers. “No, you didn’t. There were other ways you could have handled things. Instead, you threatened the lives of people I know and care about. And you forced good people to do your dirty work for you. Those are not things easy to forgive.”

He coughed again. “I sent people in my service. It is their duty, but I’d hardly call it forced.”

“And Plavistalorik? She’s your guest, not your servant.”

“Everything Plavistalorik does here, she does by her own choice.”

Felitïa stood up. “You used her to intimidate the Council at the Hall of Knowledge.”

“Which she volunteered to do. I never asked her to do it.”

“And what of the Council?”

“What of them?”

“Seriously? They’re people you forced to do your bidding. And let’s not forget Jorvan.”

Belone lowered his head. “I did ask her to help apprehend him, but I never insisted.”

Felitïa hugged the book and papers to her chest. “If you’d wanted me to trust you, your Lordship, you should have just asked me to talk to you. So no, you didn’t do what you had to. You did what you wanted to because you liked the idea of exerting power.”

There was anger rising in him, and he was trembling in his seat. “Perhaps I could have handled things differently. I’d like the opportunity to make amends if I may.”

“Then keep your son away from Nin-Akna. He’s been harassing her again.”

“I told you I disciplined him over the incident your first night here.”

“And it’s done no good. He insults her every chance he gets.”

Belone sighed. “I will speak with him again, make sure he understands that if it continues, I will not hesitate to banish him from the palace.”

Felitïa nodded. “That’s a start. Thank you.” She started for the door, but stopped just before it. “Your Lordship, I’m grateful for your hospitality. I am. And I’d like for things between us to be cordial and even friendly. But it’s going to take a lot before I’m willing to trust you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really should get some sleep tonight. I have an early morning. Goodnight to you.”

“Goodnight, your Highness,” he said. “I will consider your words carefully.”

“Thank you.”

Felitïa opened the door and walked past the guard standing outside without acknowledging him. Once she was back at her room, she put the book and papers away and changed for bed. Sleep was slow coming though, and when it did, it was fitful. She startled Lon and Nesh a few times, and ended up sitting up awhile just calming them. She wondered if she would ever get a good night’s sleep again.