Then she noticed Kaelan watching her from the ground, propped up on his elbows.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said, sitting up fully. “Not far enough.”
She crouched next to him. “How did you do that? What did you do?”
His gaze slid away. “Your Prince could not... travel?”
“Well, my Prince is a poor example,” she said. “But I suppose he is Lavana’s Prince now...” She sagged. “Poor Riker.”
“Will you go back for him?” he asked, pushing up to his feet.
She rose as well.
An iron weight fell onto her chest. “I can’t. It’s too dangerous. What I don’t understand is why she needs him when she has Endreas. You must be right. The Elf King must’ve given her... something. For a Rae to find one Prince is difficult enough, but three?”
“She didn’t exactly find yours on purpose.”
Lifting her hand to tug at her lower lip, cool metal grazed her skin. She was still wearing the gloves. She pulled off one and held it out to him.
“This should fetch quite a price, wherever you go.” She peeled the other off and jammed it into her back pocket.
He took the glove. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“Trust me, Prince. You don’t want to know,” she said.
“For the Enneahedron?” he asked, brow slant rising to a steep incline. “I thought you didn’t want power.”
“I don't,” she said. “But the idea that Lavana will become Radiant...” She chewed her lip. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”
In the star shine, she could see every lash framing his eyes, every line etching his lips, and the woven edges of his scar, threads of it twisting like a curling tendril of heart-ivy. Fresh tears pricked her eyes as she gazed at him, at the dark beauty of his face in the glittering light.
Her stars. Her home.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.
“Nothing,” she said, smiling and wiping the tears from her eyes. “Everything is so beautiful here. I’d forgotten.” Her throat constricted. “I’ve forgotten... too much.” She rolled back her shoulders. She had to find Kirk and Enneahedron before Lavana. “Thank you, Kaelan. For everything.”
She kissed his cheek. The taste of him slid over her lips and melted on her tongue—warm butterscotch and smoky, aged whiskey and fresh-cut grass. But she didn’t linger, though it would’ve been easy to do so.
When she stepped back from him, his eyes were green fire, his cheeks so taut the bones looked as though they might slice through his skin.
“Sorry,” she said, unable to keep herself from smiling. “I forgot you were a Prince.”
His expression faltered, as if he was wondering if he should be insulted.
“I wish you and your nymph all the luck in this and every world,” she said, stepping back. “Goodbye, Kaelan. Fair winds.”
“Fair winds, Magda.”
She tromped down into the meadow, studying the stars, finding the same ones she’d left behind all those years ago.
“Magda,” Kaelan called from the shadow of the trees.
She turned.
He raised the glove. “Thank you.”
