“That is because no other Fae possesses it.”
“One needs power in order to magnify it,” he said. “And I have none at the moment, as is the case with my men. How would Lex be able to conjure it?”
“Your power is there. It is merely held back by the exhaustion of your Fae form. My daughter might not be able to control her magic in her current state, but I can.”
Lex’s mother was quite possibly mad. But he’d been plunging to his death moments ago, and now he wasn’t. He was open to discussion. “How can Lex do this if she is unconscious?”
“The same way her power allowed me to melt the ice tomb your father created. I have the power of telekinesis and a minor ability with fire when I exert myself. As soon as I sensed my daughter, I reached for her magic and activated my own, breaking my imprisonment.”
Isle motioned for Garrin to come closer. “You do not know Lex the way I do. I can call to her power because I am her mother. If you want to reach her magic, you will need to touch her. It will be easier that way.”
Not know Lex? She was stubborn. Beautiful. And under the worst of circumstances, humorous without meaning to be. If they survived this, the woman who’d hid in plain sight in the human realm would give him a piece of her mind. And right now, he prayed for Lex’s condemnation. Would welcome it, for he feared he’d never hear her voice again.
He knelt and ran his knuckles along the cold blue-gray skin of Lex’s jaw, his own jaw flexing. She wouldn’t survive much longer out here. This had to work.
He closed his eyes and gently squeezed her shoulder, running his palm toward her hand and calling to his magic.
Nothing happened.
He blinked. “I sense no power.”
Isle sighed. “As impatient as your father, I see. You mustenvisionthe magic flowing from Lexandra to you.”
Garrin didn’t want to take anything from Lex. She was already so frail. But she appeared much like she had before her mother melted the ice tomb by tapping into her magic. Presumably this didn’t hurt her.
This time when Garrin closed his eyes, he visualized the essence of his power and the way it looked in his mind’s eye.
And was slammed with heat and energy that ran from his scalp to his fingertips and down to his toes.
Garrin stood, his chest pounding with relief. He splayed out his hands and called to the snow.
And it obeyed. Compacting, melting. Forming stairs leading up, piling one on top of the other, higher and higher.
“Good,” Isle said. “Now we leave this evil place.”
11
Garrin picked up Lex. His arms weren’t much warmer than her body after going without his coat for so long, but it didn’t matter because they had a way out.
He ran up the ice stairs—and found Zirel standing there, half-naked and holding a handmade rope.
Garrin frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Attempting to rescue Amund so that we could rescue you. What has happened?” Zirel looked from Garrin to Isle standing beside him.
“Zirel, meet Isle Meinrad, Lex’s mother.”
“Mother?” Zirel said.
Isle looked down her nose. “Put on clothes, child, or you will freeze.”
There was no time to explain to Zirel all that had happened inside the ravine, and Zirel must have realized that too, because he quickly began to unknot his clothing. He looked across to where Amund lay stranded. “What about him?”
“I’ll retrieve him,” Garrin said, and gently set Lex down.
With the help of new ice ledges that extended farther than the old ones, Garrin reached Amund in one swift leap, though the ledge cracked ominously on his descent.
Amund was in bad shape. He opened his eyes, and the effort appeared difficult. “Leave me. Get the girl to the kingdom.”
