“Why?” I cried to the gods, my words swallowed by the forest.
Thunk-thunk-thunk.
I bent over, hands resting on my knees, breathing heavily, cheeks wet, and let every emotion wash over me, taking a moment to feel it all.
Thoughts drained, blood pounding, I collected the blades then followed the meandering river back down, stopping to splash water on my face.
Taking a seat on a boulder, I watched the sunlight dance along the water, and was taken back to the void and its memorizing colors.
I snapped my finger. Nothing—I hadn’t been able to conjure that tiny speck of light since we’d returned to the human realm.
When I searched deep within for the magical part of me, it felt different from when I’d reached for it in the vision. Then, it’d acted as if the spark had never existed. No, now it felt dormant, like a bear hibernating for the winter, except the call of spring wasn’t enough to make it stir.
I tried again. Nothing.
Closing my eyes, I allowed all thoughts to eddy from my mind, focusing on the fresh scent of the river, the slight rustle of the trees, the tiny creatures scuttling in the woods.
My attention drifted inward to that core part of myself that was both me and something wholly different.
I sat with the spark in silence, knowing she was there.
It took a while for me to feel her. She was hiding from me, like a sullen child shielding themselves from fresh hurt and betrayal. But it was more than that. She was grieving. Not just because I had shoved her down, but also because I hadn’t allowed her to protect me when I’d needed it the most.
Remorse slid through me like a stone sinking into the yawning depths of a vast lake. I wrapped thoughts of love and appreciation around her. Thanked her. Apologized to her. As I offered this andmore as recompense, she slowly stirred like a cat stretching out of a deep slumber after a slight caress.
I let her grow from the impossibly tight ball I’d trapped her in, permitting her to expand into every cell of my body.
As she swept in, delighted at this new accession, a thrum emanated from me, joltingly similar to how it had felt to be near Caius and the other high lords. I sat in that sensation, the connection, until she no longer felt separate from me—until we felt as one.
I snapped my fingers again, and I didn’t have to open my eyes to know that an ember hovered in place.
Later, I entered the training room to find Thaddeus standing on the veranda, hands clasped behind his back, looking toward the forest beyond the gardens, or perhaps farther.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, stepping into the sunlight. “Aren’t we training?”
He gave me a weak smile, and there was something haunting in his eyes.
“Do you trust me, Nyleeria?”
“With my life.”
My words seemed to make his eyes darken further.
He held his hand out. “Walk with me.”
Thaddeus released his grip and faced me once we were in the middle of the training facility. The cushy substrate below my feet still fascinated me, and I had to quell the urge to lift up onto my tiptoes and bounce like I’d done that first day—something told me now was not the time for play.
“You’ve never truly seen me wield spells before, at least nothing past parlor tricks,” Thaddeus said. His tone held a gravitas that sobered me. It was true and probably why I kept forgetting he had the ability.
“Seeing firsthand how fae magic works made me realize that I’ve gone about your training wrong.” Something like guilt danced in his eyes. “But the way we should train can be…harsh. Unfortunately, we no longer have the luxury of time on our side, and I can’t risk you being vulnerable. What happened with Amos can never happen again.” I could feel the pain, the helplessness in those words, hidden behind determination and anger.
“I know,” I said softly.
“The truth is, I don’t understand your powers, but I think instinctually you do, and I believe the only way to teach you is to force you to defend yourself.”
I searched for the truth in his eyes, not fully wanting to believe what he was saying. “You want to attack me.”
“Yes.”
