“Sometimes we find ourselves along the way, Lys. You just throw yourself in with everything you’ve got and when you finally look up, you might be surprised at the person you find.”
“That makes more sense to me than whatever the fuck your mother said before,” she sighed and scooted closer to him, knocking into his side. “Triz is sick.”
He tensed against her. “Sick?”
She could feel his gaze, but she looked straight ahead, not wanting to see his reaction. “The soot.”
A rumbly lamentation rolled in his chest. “I’m sorry, kid.”
She stared out past the lazy snowfall to the trees. The small orb lights flickered as the snow hit them before brightening again. The effect was mesmerizing as they dimmed, then glowed against the dark. “I thought you might have known since you’ve been working with her.”
He leaned back, guilt turning his mouth down. “About that.”
She waved him off, still watching the snow drift and fall against the forest. “I don’t have it in me to care. I had been hoping that being over the border—with magic working—that it might heal her, but she said she hasn’t noticed any change. Her magicdidn’t change at all here in Bellia like everyone else’s did. Guess the damage is done.”
Gage made a noise of empathetic consideration, and she finally looked at him. “In the Deathlands, raw magic looks like soot. Do you think that’s what it is? People’s own magic unable to take form and killing them?”
Gage looked troubled as he pulled her in close. “I don’t know, Lys, I don’t know.”
Together they watched the snow fall, neither saying a word.
The party was over.
The Reyezes drank, ate, and danced until the majority of them had passed out in varying states of disarray. Elysia tiptoed past, smirking at the sheer number of weapons strapped to the bodies sprawled out on the floor, furniture, and even the stairs.
Beatriz was face down on a couch, her silver hair fanning out. She had fearlessly danced and bantered with the Reyezes all evening, riding the high of the deal she’d struck with Sylvia.
Triz had never really met a stranger. It was only a matter of if she felt like being charming or biting that day. She’d been charming enough tonight that she was walking out a much wealthier and better-connected woman. Between Gage’s recommendation and her throwing free party potions and elixirs at anyone who would try them, it’d been an easy sell.
The Kava black market was officially in Bellia and backed by the Reyez empire, for a cut, of course.
Her sister turning flush with excitement as she shook hands with Sylvia Reyez had stirred a million memories in Elysia. Sitting next to her father, watching him work—how uncanny his instinct for a deal or worthwhile product was. He’d never needed her for finessing a deal as much as for detecting bullshit.
She dodged another passed-out Reyez on the stairs, heading to her guest room. She didn’t even know the obvious, commontypes of magic, much less the softer, more hidden kind, but she knew that somehow what Triz and her father did was more than mundane skill. And now she’d never know what her sister’s magic could be—because of the fucking curse.The curse that’s all Aidan’s fault.She ignored the thought even though it whispered to her at the most inopportune times. That she was supposed to become immortal and stand beside the god who had ruined everything.
Elysia checked all her weapons at least three times. She was stalling. It was time to return to the death realm, and she couldn’t stop fixating on what it meant to embrace herdivine role. Her chest tightened as she re-examined all her actions since she’d landed broken and bleeding out in the death realm. She had gone to the Bone Temple, been civil to Aidan, and commenced with the death voyage. Whatever was so apparent to everyone else was clear as mud to her.
Sinking onto the vanity stool, she stared at her reflection only to look away. It wasn’t that she was apathetic. Her kingdom was on the line. People were sick and dying. Beatriz could fall down dead any day. Magic was in danger of being lost.
She wanted to bethatwoman. The one who magnificently and heroically rose to the occasion. The one who easily let go and moved on, smiling as she went.
But she wasn’t.
She was the angry woman. The woman who was tired of being exploited, unseen, and told what to do. The woman who wanted to take every order and shove it down the throat of the person giving it to her. She’d stabbed a king in the gut and yet she still wanted to burn.What would be enough?
She had no idea, but she knew the Reyezes were right. Somehow, someway she needed to find a spark within her empty chest. Because until this becameher journeyinstead of adeath voyagethrust upon her, she was going to be banging her head against a wall.
Remy’s smooth voice slipped in through the crack in the door. “Can I come in?”
Seeing Elysia nod, she came in, shutting the door and easing herself onto the edge of the bed. Face drawn, she clasped her hands. “There’s one more thing you should know before you go.”
Elysia waited.
“On the chance you end up back in Kava, you ought to know that Daphne is with the Crown.”
Remy cut Elysia off before she could reply. Disgust wrinkled her nose. “No, she’swiththe Crown. She knows everything, and she’s with the king. It looks like Garrison is taking precautions for a new heir.”
Revulsion smeared her face. “That… That is not possible.” Daphne wanted money and an easy life, but that didn’t mean she wanted a crazed king.
