Page 91 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

“We’ve been riding all day,” I pointed out. “I’m tired. And hungry.”

He shot me a wry look. “Then you should be all the more eager to get this over with quickly.”

I cursed him silently as he ushered me toward the back of the manor, offering a polite nod to the housekeeper. A herd of exceedingly fluffy sheep peered over at us from a neighbor’s pasture as we passed. Their thick coats shielded them from the rain that spilled out of the clouds above us. We were not so lucky.

“We’ll focus on phasing this evening,” Enhart remarked. “Gods know you need the practice.”

I glanced wistfully at the stone walls of the manor. Somewhere inside, a plate of creamy, hearty shepherd’s pie was losing heat while Enhart lectured me on proper form. I wondered where Mordric was at this moment. Probably cozy in his study, his fingers flipping through stacks of parchment covered in his elegant scrawl. I could hear the comforting scratch of his quill, picture his handsome face focusing intently on the missives before him.

“Are you listening to me?”

I blinked at Enhart. “Er, yes.”

“Then what did I say?”

I shifted in my boots. “I’m to phase to the tree line?” I guessed, gesturing to the scraggly trees bordering the grounds. They had not yet begun to sprout their leaves.

He sighed. “If I tell you to phase to the tree line, odds are you’ll end up impaled on one of those branches over there.”

I shot him a dark look. A few days before we left Valnar, I had miscalculated my landing and nearly broken my nose against the side of a massive boulder. I’d made it out just fine, save for the bump on the side of my head that was concealed beneath my hair. When the prince had finally controlled his laughter, his eyes still wet with tears, he was able to choke out a single word: accuracy.

“To the mark. Go.”

My power rippled through me as I opened a portal, the air swirling before me. Eyeing the mark he had drawn in the dirt with his boot, I stepped into the empty space. A crackle in the air behind me signaled that the portal had closed.

“It’s not very pretty, but it’ll do,” he called.

I turned on my heel, opening another portal that spat me out to his left. Mud squelched beneath my boots as I steadied myself. “Oh now it has to be accurate and pretty?”

“I can’t imagine that you want to show up to your first council meeting, phasing in to impress the other advisers, only to fall immediately onto your ass,” he replied. “You keep slipping because your stance is unsteady.”

“I would never phase into a meeting for no reason.”

“You should. Remember that sitting on the council takes more than skill. It takes cunning and a healthy level of paranoia. A show of force will make it clear to them that you’re not to be trifled with.”

“Paranoia?” I echoed. “Why would they be paranoid?”

He shrugged. “Those seats are in high demand. Only one member of the council has kept theirs for more than a decade—Ansell. And that’s only because he’s the most treacherous of the lot.”

“Lord Volorthen?” I asked. “Really?”

“Really. He also served in the court of my father, who ruled for over five centuries. When he died ninety-one years ago, Ansell ushered the kingdom through Mordric’s coronation and into a new age in his name, or so they say.”

I tried to picture the chief adviser as a young man. Knowing him now, it was difficult to imagine him without the crevasses etched deep into his pallid skin, or the gloomy look that was plastered across his face. I wondered how much Valnar had changed since the early years of King Norrix’s reign.

“You have a unique skill set,” Enhart continued. “But that doesn’t mean that someone else wouldn’t be eager to try and show the King that you can somehow be replaced.”

In more ways than one, I imagined. I was more than just an adviser to Mordric, and the king’s hand was worth even more than a seat on his council. “I’ve been spending so much time preparing for the solstice that I didn’t really think about what comes next,” I admitted.

“They’ll keep you on your toes, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“Sounds like court.”

I fiddled with the end of my braid. “Is that what Hollybrook will be like?”

He scoffed. “No. If anything I imagine it will be a bit dull.”