He heard the sound again, but this time he knew it was coming from his balcony. Frowning, he set down Mareleau’s letter and approached the doors. The curtains were drawn shut, so he couldn’t see the balcony beyond. He set his fingers on the handle, pausing to consider if he should call one of his guards inside instead…
Another sound, and this time it carried a note of familiarity. It was the telltale flap of…wings.
Larylis pushed the door open and found Berol staring up at him with what was undoubtedly an impatient look. Her wings were splayed, beak open, and before he could step out onto the balcony with her, she darted inside. She launched from the floor to one of his towering bedposts, then to his desk.
Larylis approached her, noting something tucked inside one of her talons. “Did Teryn send you?” From the agitated splay of her wings, he guessed she’d struggled to find him. It made sense considering she was used to the location of his former chambers. But why did Teryn send her? She could travel far faster than a messenger horse, and he was known to utilize her to send messages now and then. Regardless, her flustered state unsettled him.
He extended his hand and took the missive from Berol’s talon.
Only it wasn’t a missive at all.
Larylis stared at the piece of torn fabric, at the rust-colored splatter that looked an awful lot like blood.
His throat went dry as he was forced into a memory from not long ago.
It reminded him of…
Gods, he didn’t want to think it.
But it was impossible not to see that scrap of fabric, the frantic splay of her wings, andnotrecall what had happened the last time she’d brought Larylis something while Teryn was at Ridine.
Why did she bring a scrap of cloth? Was this a piece of Teryn’s shirt? Someone else’s? Was he in trouble?
He sat at his desk and took out a quill and sheet of paper. He hadn’t intended to write any letters until the morrow, but this one couldn’t wait. Not with the dread sinking his heart.
It’s nothing, it’s nothing, he told himself again and again as he penned his inquiry to Teryn, asking if he was all right. If it truly was nothing, then he’d receive confirmation in less than three days’ time. Sooner, actually, for he’d send a copy with Berol. There was a chance he’d get a reply as early as tomorrow evening.
It’s nothing. Teryn’s fine.
He rolled up the first letter and handed it to Berol. “To Teryn,” he said aloud. She clutched it in her talons and set off at once. That was a good sign, right? She wouldn’t have flown off if she didn’t know where he was.
He tried to let that comfort him as he finished the second letter and handed it to one of his guards, insisting a messenger leave with it tonight. Then he returned to his desk and examined the torn strip of cloth Berol had brought him. He tried not to panic at the spatter of blood.
Yet try as he might, his mind kept wandering to the worst-case scenario. Teryn injured. Teryn hurt. Teryn…no. That was as dark as he’d let his thoughts get. Whatever was happening, he’d sort it out soon enough.
In the meantime, he could only wonder…what the seven devils was happening at Ridine?
34
Teryn spent another night lying within the intangible bounds of his body, trying to influence muscle movement. After two hours, he managed another flinch of his finger. After three, a flutter of his eyelids. At least he thought he did. Unless it was merely coincidence that Emylia had witnessed Teryn’s lashes lift just as he’d been directing all his intent to those minuscule muscles, he’d succeeded.
Yet it still wasn’t enough. It was nothing compared to what he needed to do. Trying to force these subtle movements took all the strength of will he had. He couldn’t imagine how long it might take to control enough of his body to remove the crystal from around his neck. He might go mad before then.
No, he told himself.I will not give in to my own futility. I will build the strength required to do this or I will die trying.
He shifted on the bed, feeling the edges of his ethera buzz from the contact it made with his body and the mattress beneath it. After connecting to his breath, blood, and pulse, he tried to refocus on his current task: parting his lips. No matter how he tried, his mind kept shifting to Cora. To worry. To fear.
He hated that Cora had no clue what was going on. Hated that she perceived Morkai’s coldness to her as his own. At the same time, he was grateful for Morkai’s outward indifference. If it kept Cora from getting too close to Morkai, Teryn would let her think anything at all. He’d sever ties with her for good if it prevented the sorcerer from using their relationship the way he intended. Furthermore, Morkai’s avoidance of Cora gave Teryn the time he needed to reclaim his body. There wasn’t much Morkai could do to further his goals until he was married to Cora. Right? Surely he could defeat this challenge by the end of a year.
Just the thought that it could take even a fraction of that time sent a flicker of anxiety through him…
“Breathe, Teryn,” Emylia reminded him.
He clenched his jaw, creating a buzz of resistance tingling over the bottom half of his face, but he did as she suggested. He refocused on the air filling his lungs, on the steady thrum of his pulse, until his mind cleared of panic. Then he shifted his attention to his mouth, feeling the energy hum where his body and ethera were perfectly aligned. On an inhale, he experienced the air moving through his nostrils, unsure whether this sensation belonged to his body or ethera. Perhaps some place between where the two were connected. Slowly, he exhaled and felt the air tingle his upper lip. He repeated this meditation several times until he could imagine he was simply resting like normal—whole and alive. Then, on his next exhale, he shifted the course of the air escaping his lungs, sending it out his mouth instead.
His lips parted. The air left his mouth in a soft, easy breath.
Surprise sparked the edges of Teryn’s consciousness, but he reined it in, determined to stay focused. He controlled several more mouth breaths, then shifted his attention to the back of his throat. To his tongue. The roof of his mouth. His vocal cords.
