CHAPTER 1

I was eight years old before I realized not everyone could understand the singing of the birds in the garden, or hear the whispered conversations of the roses as they nodded perfume-heavy heads in the breeze. As the first-born child and only son of the King and Queen of Canticle, I'd been raised from birth to know I was different. I simply hadn't understood that the differences went beyond my princely status.

My mother, Astria bless her, must always have known the secret I carried with me. The power of the universe thrummed in my blood like the song of a lark. She kept the knowledge close in her heart, in the way that is every mother's right, but she must have known since my birth that I carried more of my father in me than just his dark brown eyes or cynical sense of humor. I had his magic, too.

I could make the stones in the garden dance at my whim and twist the roses on their thorny stems even when there was no wind. I could hear the storms far out at sea. I could press my will against my sister Avivah, closest in age to me, and force her to give me the handful of sweets she had tucked away in her pinafore pocket. I could, and I did.

'Twas that childish act of selfishness that spilled my secrets like a bag of marbles on the floor.

"Adi stole my candy." Avivah glared at me across the dinner table.

My mother cast her pale gray gaze on me. "Adiel, is this true?"

"No, Mother." I shook my head and kicked at Avivah beneath the table. "She gave it to me."

My father tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Avivah, did you give it to your brother?"

Avivah's pale eyes, so like my mother's, welled with tears. Her lower lip trembled. "Him taked it, Papa. Him looked at me until I fell down, and then he taked it!"

My father chuckled, but my mother's eyes narrowed. She stared at me without speaking, her own fingers beating out a nervous tattoo against her plate. She put her other hand on the lump of her belly, where my next sibling squirmed inside.

"Adi's got the fae touch!" Avivah cried when she saw my father did not believe her. "Old Nana says so!"

There was a long silence, during which my father's smile faded. I shifted in my seat, knowing I was going to get in trouble, and knowing I deserved it. I should have let my sister keep her candy, and then I'd have kept my secret.

My father, the king of Canticle, the man who had dandled me upon his knee and taught me how to mount a horse, looked at me. Oh, aye, he had looked at me often enough before, but this time I felt the weight of his gaze reach down inside me to the deepest parts of my being. I squirmed a little, before remembering a future king should meet all adversity head on, and never shirk from that which may be unpleasant though it may be the easier course.

"She means I can do things, Father."

"What things?" My father's voice was stern, but a light of excitement had burst in his eyes.

"Mason," my mother said quietly. "Now is not the time, or the place."

My father raised his eyes to her. "What know you of this, wife?"

Silence ringed the table, broken only by my infant sister Shoshannah's cry. Avivah shot me a triumphant glance. I could only stare at my parents and wait to see what they said.

My mother met my father's gaze unflinchingly. "Mason, your soup is getting cold. Let us eat, and then speak with Adiel after we have supped. You have gone eight years without noticing anything different about him. I think you can wait another hour or so."

My father rose slowly from the table, his mouth set in the familiar grim line that meant he was going to lose his temper. "Did you know of this?"

We all flinched except my mother, who continued to spoon the delicious vegetable broth into her mouth without even bothering to look up.

"Perion! Answer me!"

Slowly, deliberately, my mother tore apart a scone, buttered it, and dipped it into her bowl. She tucked the piece of bread into her mouth and sighed, making an "mmm" sound to let everyone know just how delicious it tasted. She sipped from her goblet of sweet wine and wiped her lips upon the fine linen napkin on her lap.

"Perion!"

"Mason, my darling," my mother said, "sit down. You're losing your temper again."

"Should I not lose my temper? When I have just discovered you have been keeping secrets from me?"

I'd seen my father angrier than this, to be sure. Once when I'd pushed a smaller boy down in the courtyard, and once when Avivah had run through his study and knocked over the pedestal holding the crystal. The ball of glass had been nicked, and my father's rage had nearly shaken the castle walls.

"Stop it, Papa," I said suddenly, not wishing my mother to take the punishment meant for me.

My father whirled on me, his mouth twisted into a sudden humorless grin. "What say you, pup?"

I pushed back my chair, my childish knees trembling. "You should be angry with me."

My father nodded and kept his temper. "After we've eaten, I'll see you in my study."

Copyright © 2005 by Megan Hart