“Are there books on holy magic in Everbound’s library?” I ask, encouraged by the prospect of finally knowing how the hell to use my magic.
According to Galene, holy magic is fueled by worship. But reaping souls seems to help, too. Maybe there’s something I can study to learn about my annoyingly dormant new abilities.
Everett’s brow furrows. “I doubt it. Records like that would be kept in temples for anyone who can use holy magic. You know, saints and prophets and…” He trails off before understanding crosses his face. “Oh, shit. You can use holy magic, can’t you?”
“Barely,” I grumble, petulant.
I trained for years to use the destructive magic of revenants with ease. Being out of my depth with holy magic, to the point that I can’t even heal myself, let alone rebond with my matches, is really fucking annoying.
We turn another corner into what used to be the administration hallway, where Lillian has been staying. I’m dying to see her, but if there’s a chance that I could start learning how to use my magic…
When Everett pauses outside one of the doors, I tug on his hand. “We may need to steal records about holy magic from a temple.”
To my surprise, he agrees without a single protest. “While you talk with Lillian, I’ll send some Reformists to take anything and everything you need from the makeshift temples in Halfton. A lot of refugee priests and prophets salvaged any records they could when they went on the run from shadow fiends and Crypt destroying their temples.”
Crypt.
Every time I think of my missing Nightmare Prince, it hurts. I need to find a way to track him down or find out if he's even still?—
No. He's alive. He has to be.
I arch a brow, intrigued by my previously upright match’s apparent indifference. “You’re not afraid the gods will smite you?”
“As if they could come up with a worse punishment than the last six months. If they were going to smite me, they would have done it a hundred times over by now, those fucking—” He cuts off, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Damn it. I can’t badmouth them now.”
“Why not?”
“Because even though it’s still insane to think about, some of them are your family, Snowdrop.”
Family? Yikes. I don’t remember if the last six months made me consider any of the gods asfamily, but I doubt it.
Deciding to shelf that unpleasant thought for later, I get back to the matter at hand. “I need records about how divine magic works. Casting, theories, spells, rituals. Anything like that.”
“Done,” Everett agrees before knocking on the door.
I swallow hard as we wait, feeling oddly…nervous.
If what I believe about Lillian’s past words is true, she might not be surprised to see me, but I still hope she’ll be glad. If she’s even missed me half as much as I’ve missed her?—
The door opens with a soft creak.
Emotions immediately crash over me when Lillian’s bright blue eyes widen. They’re quickly filled with that tender, maternal look I remember so well from when I was a kid.
“Maven,” she breathes, clutching her hands in front of her chest.
She doesn’t throw her arms around me. She doesn’t start bawling.
She knows me too well for any of that.
Gods, I’ve missed her so much thatI’mthe one who impulsively steps forward and wraps her in a quick hug. She startles, but I pull away just as quickly, pretending my tear ducts aren't traitors and there is absolutely no extra moisture in my eyes.
The smile that breaks over Lillian’s face is sunshine itself. I’ve never seen her in the mortal world, but her irises are bluer than I remember. Her wildly curly blonde-and-gray hair is currently in a braid over one shoulder. She’s dressed in several layers of colorful, warm winter clothes right down to fuzzy green and purple striped socks on her feet.
“I’ve missed yousomuch, little raven,” she finally says on an emotional laugh. “All my prayers have finally been answered. Here, both of you come inside. I have a fire going, and I can make some hot chocolate and oatmeal and?—”
“Make it all for Maven. I need to go give an order, but I’ll be right back,” Everett says, squeezing my hand one more time.
We both wait for him to leave, but then I realize his other hand has gone to fidget repeatedly with his coat buttons. His teeth are clenched as a muscle jumps in his jaw.
