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only there to retrieve messages, not truly holding court.” He sighs and runs a hand through his silvery hair. “Kym, our king is a grand fool. If you can intercept his messages, he has no hope of keeping them from the wizard. He may as well deliver them right to his doorstep. And sending a boy! After curfew! As though no one would notice.”
    I am pleased Father is amused by my discovery. “The king must fear this wizard.”
    â€œIndeed he does.” Father’s face takes on a grave expression. “The wizard sacrificed his daughter, too. The crown princess.”
    I suck in my breath. “Oh, the poor girl.” I picture a girl in fine clothes, withering in the prison under the wizard’s thumb. It breaks my heart. In a way, it reminds me of that fairy tale about the princess in the tower. “I wish I had been alive in time to save her.”
    Father cups my cheek. “You would have done a fine job of it, too, I am sure. But we can only save those who remain. Mourning the lost will not help those who can still be found.”
    I am lucky to have such a wise, kind father. It fuels my boldness.
    â€œFather, was there another girl? A small, blond one who I may have played with?” I cannot hide the tremor in my voice.
    â€œAnother girl? No, my dear. You are my only child. We lived in Bryre but briefly, and after that it was only you and I and your mother here in our cottage.”
    Mother . That word again. Every time I hear it, the hollowness inside me expands. I do not know about magic, but words are powerful things indeed.
    â€œWhy do you ask?” Father says.
    â€œIt was another sliver of memory,” I say. “I could have sworn it was a little girl.”
    â€œPerhaps it was a memory of you looking in the mirror,or a friend you made when we were in Bryre.”
    â€œYes, that must be it,” I agree. “When can I hunt down the wizard? I want to destroy him.” The remnants of my shattered memories may be all I have to remind me who I was before, but I know who I am now.
    The vehicle of the wizard’s destruction. Every day I embrace this more wholeheartedly.
    â€œIn good time, child. I am still trying to find him. It seems he and the king are well hidden both from each other and from me.”
    â€œI know you will find him.” If anyone can do it, it is Father. I just hope it is soon.
    I flutter through the moonlit woods with a heavy heart. Even though he is no longer upset, Father’s words still ring in my ears.
    How could you let someone see you?
    How could I, indeed? I had not meant to, but I have not seen many humans aside from Father and this boy. I must have stared too long at him in the palace and somehow caught his attention. He would not have noticed and followed me otherwise. My curiosity will be our undoing.
    Our work is too important for me to risk. I must push the boy out of my head. It is, according to Father, the only way. I do not see any other.
    So why is my pulse pounding and my breath shorter than usual?
    Pausing at the edge of the city walls, I check for guards, then bound up to the walkway at the top. I take a deepbreath, inhaling the glorious scent of roses beneath as the night blooms waft upward.
    Though I saw it for only a moment, that face is etched upon my heart, with lines and planes different from Father’s. Younger. And . . . handsome. Yes, that is the word. Handsome . And his expression, a mix of shock and something I cannot identify. Perhaps no one looked at my former self in such a manner so I have no word for it in my lexicon.
    But I must push him out of my thoughts. I do not know this boy, and Father is certain he will be trouble. He will cause us to fail. Or worse, he might be working with the wizard. Why else would someone be out after curfew lurking around the palace? Yes, the boy cannot be up to anything good.
    My mind flits back to the prison filled with girls in pain. I jump down and run so