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for Dreya the Dark.”

Cat was stunned. She never would have imagined hearing such a statement, but now that he’d said it, she knew this was the most critical part of their conversation. This was why she’d come here. More than anything else, this was what she needed to know.

Xarnas explained himself, saying, “She once told me her ambition was to be known as the Greatest Mage Who Ever Lived.”

Cat nodded. She could understand that sentiment. She didn’t share it – she didn’t think of her druid magic in quite those terms – but she could understand it. In many ways, it was admirable: if you’re passionate about something, why not strive to be the best?

“But to my mind,” Xarnas continued, “that title is hers already. Think about it: You’ve studied the reign of terror for which Ulvarius was responsible three centuries ago?”

Again, Cat nodded, not wanting to disturb the moment by speaking.

“Well, it’s easy to imagine the story of a powerful mage, working their whole lives to try and take his tower, remove the blot on the landscape that he left behind as a deadly, terrifying legacy. Then maybe, after decades of preparation and study, at the peak of their powers, they finally succeed at some terrible personal cost, and retire to their well-earned new home.”

Once more, Cat nodded. The story practically wrote itself, and she knew the twist that was coming.

“But Dreya finishes her apprenticeship with me and takes the Black Tower in five minutes flat, with nary a scratch apart from a prick on her finger from a single rose thorn, as she invents stable blood magic practically on the spot.”

Cat knew the story – everybody did – she'd just never looked at it the way Xarnas did.

“Then, having moved in and begun to make the formerly dangerous place a thing of beauty, her new neighbours attack her! Attack her? They should have been thanking her! I swear, if she hadn’t ripped out their souls, I would have done it myself!”

Catriona placed a gentle, reassuring hand on his arm. He was almost in tears; such was his passion.

“So, what’s left for her? She’s so young, especially by Faery standards. She’s achieved more than any mage in history, and it’s not enough.”

Catriona understood. “She’s bored,” she realised. “She must be.”

“And that’s why I feel sorry for her. Be creative, Catriona, be inventive. Keep her guessing. Don’t underestimate how dangerous she is and don’t let her pin you down, literally or figuratively. Keep her off balance, never knowing what’s coming next, and I truly believe you might just succeed. I hope so, because in my opinion, knowing Dreya as I do, a ‘handful of trouble’ could be exactly what she needs in her life.”

Chapter 16

My mother had learned her lessons well, gentle reader, and by this stage of her life, she refused to go into any situation unprepared. For this action, she knew she had to do her homework like never before. She would get only one shot at this, and if her preparations were anything less than meticulous, she would fail. Perhaps even die.

Thanks to Xarnas, she had done the theory, and her magic was as prepared as it was ever going to be. There was just one more factor to consider: the lay of the land. If she were going to impress Dreya the Dark, she would have to confront her in her own grounds. Typically, of course, the land was a friend to my mother, but these lands were different. They had once belonged to Ulvarius, but Dreya had tamed them and made them her own.

It was the night before Midsummer, and under cover of darkness, Cat flew over Sylfrania in the form of a tawny owl. Unsurprisingly, the whole Faery woodlands were in full bloom. Midsummer’s Day was a big day of romance in Faery culture and a traditional day for prominent weddings. As a Quarthonian Faery, she wasn’t up with Sylfranian politics, but doubtless both communities would be busy tomorrow.

Passing over Ainderbury and crossing into human lands, she found a quiet perch in a tree in Gaggleswick, close to the Black Tower, and took a moment to rest and go over her plan. In this form, she was hopeful that she could scout Dreya’s lands with impunity. In truth, she had no way of knowing how far Dreya’s powers of detection might extend, but this was the best she could do. She had decided to forgo any red bands, confident that she was too focused on her goal to lose herself. In fact, she was mostly ready to let go of that crutch altogether, except for her red-banded falcon, just because it was the first form she’d successfully used and after so long, it wouldn’t feel right without the red bands. Catriona was encouraged when a passing barn owl seemed to take a liking to her. If another owl was convinced of her ‘owliness’ and did not find anything strange about her, she was hopeful that any detection magic would be equally unconcerned.

Resuming her flight and crossing into Dreya’s lands, she could see Xarnas had not exaggerated about the beauty of Dreya’s grounds, now that she had had time to work on them. In fact, Cat grudgingly admitted that she couldn’t have done much better herself. Dreya had transformed this patch of nature, freeing it from a three-hundred-year curse. It would not easily be turned against her. Catriona had prepared for this, however. That’s why she was here.

As I have said previously, gentle reader, my mother routinely carried nature with her, but for this, she needed to go one step further and plant the literal seeds of success in Dreya’s grounds.

She had been carrying plant seeds in her beak since she transformed, and now she let them fall onto the ground beneath her. She was glad to spit them out, but it had been the only way. Using her pocket dimension magic here would no doubt set off all kinds of alarm bells, which would

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