Lucius ticked off the tenets of the Nǽming on his gnarled fingers. “In exchange for healing the world, the clans put wizards on a short leash. High magic and wizards were forbidden in the Spirits. They’re confined to the Vale and the flatlands. The clan speakers have temples in Fellsmarch, and the queens got to go to temple once a week to learn the true faith. The Wizard Council chooses the most powerful wizard in the Fells as High Wizard and head of the council, but he is magically bound to the land and the queen, and ruled by her. The queens are fostered in the camps as children.” Lucius smiled faintly. “And wizards ain’t allowed to marry our queens anymore, because that gives them too much power.”

“Hanalea agreed to that?” Han said. Guess they put the queen on a short leash too, he thought.

Lucius nodded, as if he’d read Han’s mind. “The queen of the Fells is both the most powerful and the least free person in the entire queendom. She is a slave to duty once she comes of age.”

“But she’s the queen,” Han said. “Can’t she do whatever she wants?”

“Hanalea had learned the price of following her heart,” Lucius said. He paused, his face settling into sorrowful folds. “So she bent her knee for the greater good, and married somebody she didn’t love.”

Han frowned. The stories always ended with the destruction of the Demon King and the triumph of Hanalea. “So, who did she marry, then? Bayar was a wizard, so…?”

Lucius shook his head. “Poor Kinley Bayar met with an accident soon after the Breaking. She married somebody else.” After the rich details of the story so far, he seemed rather sketchy on that point.

Han stood again, then hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other, compelled to say something. “You know, Lucius, I’m practically grown. I’m too old for fairy stories.”

For a long moment the old man didn’t respond. “Don’t ask for the truth, boy, unless you’re ready to hear it,” Lucius said, staring sightlessly out at Old Woman Creek. “Just remember what I said. Keep the amulet hid, and stay out of the way of the Bayars. They got too much power as it is. If they find out you have it, they’ll kill you for it.”

C H A P T E R  S I X

FELLSMARCH

The city of Fellsmarch nestled at the edge of the Vale, a fertile valley where the Dyrnnewater shouldered its way between the rocky cliffs of Hanalea and the rippling skirts of Alyssa, her sister peak. The Spirit-dwelling clan often referred to residents of the Vale as flatlanders. The Valefolk in turn looked down on the city of Delphi and the plains of Arden to the south.