Page 115 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

“Her name was Ophelia. Her father was a duke from the south who Mordric met at one of his feasts. When Mordric learned that his daughter was a witch, he convinced himself that she would make the perfect addition to his council. There was trouble brewing among his allies, you see, like always, and he had grown paranoid. Ophelia was intelligent, but she lacked experience. He knew that I had studied magic at Hollybrook, so he engaged me to train her. It was a learning experience for both of us. We got along well enough, though, and worked together for nearly a year. I considered her a friend.”

A friend? I couldn’t smother the envy that sparked to life in my chest. At best, he’d kept me at arm’s length for as long as I’d known him. At worst, well, as much as I had tried to forget it, what I had overheard in Genevieve’s memories still stung.

“When was this?” I asked, putting the thought from my mind.

“Nearly a decade ago.”

“The night we met, Mordric said that you hadn’t seen each other for seven years,” I said. “Is that why?”

“Partly,” he replied. “I can’t say what happened to her for sure, but I invested a good deal of time and energy into Ophelia’s training only for her to disappear on me.”

“Oh,” I said, taken aback. “Despite my complaints, I have no intention of abandoning our efforts here. You know that, right?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have any reason to believe that she ran away.”

“You think something happened to her?” I asked.

“She had a wife and son who’d accompanied her to Valnar, both of whom she loved dearly. She would never have abandoned them,” he explained. “Ophelia had a gift for shadow magic. Before she disappeared, we began working on it intensely … at Mordric’s request.”

“Is that what I saw in your memory?” I asked, my skin crawling at the very thought of the elusive, sinister magic that had floated around his old pupil.

He nodded. “It has many uses, but Mordric was most intrigued to learn that it could allow the wielder to walk in the shadow realm. They would be able to see and hear everything around them while physically staying in one place. He was convinced that it was integral to maintaining control over his kingdom, even though I told him it was dangerous.”

“The shadow realm?”

“A cursed place that sits outside the mortal plane. It’s extraordinarily dangerous to navigate.”

A chill went down my spine. “Why did you pursue it if you thought it might go wrong?”

He sighed. “Do you remember when I told you that the Ealdorfyre could be your gift?”

“Yes.” I hated him for it.

“A witch’s gift is not some benevolent party trick that she is particularly talented at. It’s more of a compulsion. There’s a reason that the Ealdorfyre plagues your nightmares. When you’re not sedating yourself with valerian, that is. It wants to be used.”

“I think I know what you mean,” I admitted. “Even though I wish I didn’t.”

He nodded solemnly. “Such was the case for Ophelia, which is why we pursued it. Well, that and Mordric was insistent, and I trusted him too much to challenge him.”

“Why did you agree to train me, then?” I asked.

“I didn’t know what your gift would be or if you would even have one. When Mordric wrote to me about you before the solstice, I only agreed to return to Valnar on the condition that he would be entirely uninvolved in your training.”

A beat passed between us. “Ophelia was paranoid,” he whispered. “Toward the end, I mean. She used to describe to me the nightmares that she was having every night, convinced that she was performing shadow magic in her dreams and had no control over it. She would see herself being consumed by the darkness along with her wife and son. She was terrified. Witches’ instincts are powerful, but I chalked it up to the stress we were under. I sometimes think that if I had pushed her harder, or taken her more seriously, she might have been able to stop whatever came for her in the end.”

I knew from his memory that something had been wrong with Ophelia. I had felt it in my bones when she conjured that demonic shadow. I recalled the anguished expression on her face, the purple splotches as dark as bruises beneath her eyes. She couldn’t have been sleeping much if her dreams were that harrowing.

“I might never know what happened to her,” Enhart said. “And even though you might not believe me, I’m hoping you don’t end up the same way.”

I wanted to reach out to him. I wanted to take away his pain if only for a moment, but I faltered. “It wasn’t your fault,” I said finally, my voice coming out in a whisper.

He heaved a sigh. “It happened on my watch, and I can’t let it happen again. That’s why you have to do this.”

“I understand,” I said. “The Ealdorfyre has plagued my nightmares for years. I know in my bones that what you’ve said is true. And I’ll do it. But I need you, Enhart.”

He turned to me, a curious expression written across his face. “Ivor’s the expert,” he said flatly.

“You’ve been there for me from the beginning, in your own way,” I insisted. “I trust you more than anyone.”