His smile came slowly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He exhaled a long breath, tired breath.
“If this were any normal day,” he murmured, “and we were normal people… I’d very much enjoy that hug.”
A pause. His voice dropped.
“Thank you for that… not-hug hug. Honestly, it might be the best one I’ve never gotten.”
A laugh bubbled up, the kind of laugh that stings a little, because it carries just as much sadness as happiness.
I stepped back, giving him space.
He nodded once, then turned toward the staircase. I watched as he disappeared up the steps, the shadows swallowing the broad line of his shoulders one step at a time.
I stayed where I was, arms still faintly aching with the ghost of a hug I hadn’t given.
Walking towards the front door, I heard coughing, alerting me that someone had entered the hallway and had probably seen our exchange. It was an older man with gray hair. He appeared to be a sentinel, although his purple gown was slightly different from Caelan’s.
“You must be Maelis,” he said with a bored tone to his voice, but the intelligence in his eyes told me that he had clearly seen how close I had been to touching Theo back there.
“I am, sir. May I help you with something?” I asked, deciding that playing the devout mortal girl was probably my best course of action.
“No, I do not needyourhelp,” he said pointedly and walked towards Theo’s office, disappearing inside.
* **
As I stepped outside, Lydia wasn’t in our usual spot. Instead, she had saddled two horses and was already atop one of them. “Let’s go for a little ride,” she said and threw the reins towards me. I caught them midair and lifted myself up onto the horse with ease. “So our little healer girl knows how to ride, excellent,” she said with a smirk.
And with that her horse set into motion, galloping towards the woods that led to the city. I followed close by, enjoying the fresh air on my face and the speed at which we were going.
Instead of taking the street into town, we turned right and rounded a little hill. We rode for an hour or two, hardly speaking and enjoying the surrounding nature . The path got more narrow and wasn’t paved with cobblestones anymore, so we had to slow down the horses. The dirty road was leading us down towards a wide stream of crystal-clear water, coming directly from the mountains.
We dismounted and let the horses graze, tying them to a nearby tree.
“Let’s walk a little further,” Lydia said, her lips twitching with amusement. “I’d rather not have your magic turn our horses into… abstract art.”
I flushed but grinned anyway. “That’s an insult to abstract art. My magic’s notthatchaotic… usually.”
“Usually,” she echoed, shaking her head. “Which is exactly why we’re keeping a safe distance from anything with hooves.”
I rolled my eyes, though the corner of my mouth twitched. “Fine. But just so you know, Ifullyintend to behave.”
We stopped when we reached the spot where the river was the widest and only a stretch deep. The water was running busily between big boulders which looked like someone had placed them there so they could cross the river with dry feet.
“What exactly are we doing here?” I asked Lydia, who was balancing on one of the smaller boulders.
“I am sure you have noticed that your powers aren’t improving,” Lydia said matter-of-factly.
I nodded and somehow felt ashamed. I had come here to help and so far, I had only been able to summon flowers, run a bath an hour in advance, and conjured up a little rain one week in advance. I was pretty sure that those were not the powers Theo had been searching for hundreds of years.
“I have been trying to figure out why you can’t access your powers and I think I know why.” Lydia continued, sitting down on the boulder, taking off her shoes and placing her feet in the cold water. “Wordsmiths are a rare breed of magical beings, Mae. They are created by the Fates to fulfill some kind of purpose. Not always is the purpose tied to an oracle or a prophecy, and their purpose is not always as big as ending a war. But wordsmiths are only made if there are no alternatives.”
I hadn’t known that. “So we are something like a last resort? Why are they so hesitant about using our powers?” I asked.
“Because our power comes from the Fates themselves and it’s far more powerful than other types of magic. It is put into a body that was not made to withstand this much pressure, after all, the wordsmiths are no Gods. The magic is like a living organism, it stretches and grows and sometimes has a mind of its own.”
Instantly, I thought back to how sick I had felt in the past few years, the migraines and dizziness that had plagued me, even in my sleep. It all made sense now, knowing what kind of power was sleeping inside me.
“The night that I used the heka on myself, I was feeling ill. My head felt like it was going to explode, I was sick and feverish. I decided to use the heka on myself, so I could sleep for once. Do you think that was the power inside of me, trying to get out?”
