So, Sol said, “Sure. Do it.”
Nina looked horrified, but Lora laughed, then said to no one in particular, “She has some trust issues.”
“Do not toss a fireball her way, Sawyer,” Cas warned with a glare. He stood at the edge of their group but slowly inched closer, as if ready to subdue her.
“Relax, Cassie.” Sawyer rolled her eyes and stepped forward, walking to Sol.
As she neared, the space seemed to heat, the fireplace and candles themselves flaring. Sol was a few inches taller than Sawyer, but it still felt like she had to look up at her as they stood face-to-face.
One of the stories her mother told was about how each Wielder was gifted their magic. Often, both of their parents had magic. At fifteen, children would undergo a ritual to see which side of their bloodline would pass on to them, to see which god would bless them, if at all. Sol had always marveled at thefact that typically the child’s personality mirrored their element. Fire Wielders were hot-headed, Water Dancers calm. Earth Callers were level-headed, Air Singers a bit of it all.
Looking at Sawyer now, that story didn’t seem as unbelievable. The woman smiled at Sol, but not kindly. Sol held her stare and prayed to the gods she looked more confident than she felt.
“Although you look nothing like me, I can see how we are related, I suppose,” Sawyer whispered. Then, with a flick of her fingertips, she sent a string of fire Sol’s way.
Sol braced for the singe, almost craving the physical confirmation it was real, but a shimmering wall of violet static erupted in front of her face, causing the flames to disperse with a puff of smoke.
Sawyer huffed. “You’re no fun, Cassie.”
The violet static vanished. Sol watched the rays disintegrate before her eyes, then cut her gaze to Cas. His hands were wrapped by purple lightning. “Do not burn our Princess on our first meeting.”
Sol looked from him to Sawyer.
Although you look nothing like me, I can see how we are related, I suppose.
Then back to Cas.
Do not burn our Princess on our first meeting.
Okay.
“You all can take rooms 54B and 53A. Keys are in the drawer behind the bar. If anyone asks, you’re Lora’s guests. Not mine.”
Without waiting for responses, Sol strode past them, shouldered the half-open doors into a swing, and took an inhale of the cold night air before bending over to steady herself. She vaguely heard the Wielders attempt to follow, saying something about the Jinn and the dangers of being alone.
But not even the fear of being out alone in an apparently Jinn-infested world fazed her at that moment, not as the revelations swirled in her mind, weaving through every story and too-vivid folklore her mother had told her. She dragged herself forward, forcefully taking in bits of air so she wouldn't faint.
Sol felt all synonymsfor stupid.
She should've connected it. Her mother had described the Rimemere waters, how the castles gleamed in the sunlight that seemed to always be a shade of lilac…she should've known the stories were real.
A soft clicking beside her gave away Lora's presence. “We didn't tell you for many reasons, Sol.”
Sol tried replying, but her tongue was useless as she simply continued with one foot in front of the other, starting her two-mile journey home. The taverns continued their songs, louder and more erratic than usual as midnight approached. Had they not heard the commotion? Had it only been her world that seemed to unfurl at the seams?
“If it’s any consolation, I knew nothing of their world either until I married your uncle Axel,” Lora continued.
Sol kept walking but tentatively slid her in a silent beckon to proceed.
“I lived in Hilarcliff at the time. It was closer to the Driodell forest where most of the healing herbs grew. Axel came to see me there and begged me to travel to Rimemere to heal his sick sister.”
“My mom?”
Lora shook her head. “Your aunt, Melanese.” Slowly, she looked back toward the Hound, then returned her attention to Sol.
“Sawyer’s mother.” At that, Sol halted.
Lora sighed. “She’s Mel’s only daughter, your cousin, and the only other Yarrow still alive, besides you.”
