Chapter 46
Ticktock
As it stood, there were two things we needed my power for: to create a bridge between realms, and to locate the magical object. Yesterday by the lake, Thaddeus had explained his theory while showing me where he believed there was a portal, and where they’d kept riding off to, day in and day out.
The theory was that because the spark’s source power was derived from the fae themselves, it was possible its likeness would grant me access to the fae realm—as if the barrier itself had a choice over such things. Where I could sense the threshold in a way Thaddeus couldn’t, I wasn’t able to gain access. Although, I hadn’t allowed myself to tap into that primordial essence—still feeling too raw.
While Thaddeus hadn’t pressed me to try harder, I couldn’t help but feel something was still off between us. He’d escorted me to my room after we’d arrived back in the wee hours of the night, only offering a swift kiss, claiming he’d have to ride at dawn again with Tarrin and Nevander back to the lake, the portal. I hoped his excuse genuine, but I couldn’t help feeling his side of the bed grow colder, as it’d remained empty for a second night in a row.
Thaddeus and Nevander were right. Even though the truth of their words struck a nerve every time I’d heard them, I knew their veracity. After all the time and practice, I still hadn’t learned how to control my powers—at least not with the precision and strength required. While it wasn’t explicitly stated, the overall implication was clear: if I couldn’t figure out how to wield the spark, I would have to be okay with relinquishing it to Thaddeus—who evidently could.
Prickling with a sense of urgency, I forewent the woods, poring over my notes in my suite, wanting to test what I’d been researching these past weeks. I wasn’t sure what shifted over the past few days, but everything felt taut with impending inevitability, like a storm you could feel in your bones yet couldn’t see.
I wanted more time with the tomes before testing, but more and more, time felt like a scarce resource, forcing me to work with what I had. Hopefully, my theories were right—and I now possessed the right colors and substrate for the spark to craft as she preferred, while providing what I needed.
For now, I only had theories about finding the magical object. I wanted to test them on something we’d lost, such as Thaddeus’ favorite pen. The fact that it was missing made it the perfect subject, as I didn’t want to risk already knowing the location of what I was tracking in case it skewed the results.
I had three methods I wanted to try. One was feeling where something was, much like the threshold I’d found yesterday. The second was seeing, similar to how Thaddeus had shown me the history of our people, the spark. The last was to summon an object. Why not see if I could make the magical object come to me? Which would solve both of our problems.
I glanced to the entrance of the octagon training room, double-checking that the door was latched. Satisfied, I leaned over my notes one more time, then sat upright, resting my backside on my heels.
Closing my eyes, I thought about a missing object that belonged to Thaddeus, keeping the details vague. As we didn’t know exactlywhat the magical object was, I needed to see if I could feel where the pen was without giving specifics.
Tendrils of my power were cast out as if the spark were indeed searching for something. Their wisps turned this way and that, darting about. After a time, my power flowed back into me as if looking for more instruction, like a hound with a lost toy returning empty-handed and wondering if its quarry ever existed at all.
Still withholding details, I cast it out again, to the same effect. Trying for a third time, my power stayed close, as if it knew I was sending it on a fool’s errand.
Sighing, I allowed myself to remember every detail of the pen. Its heavy weight in my hand, how it would flow too much if I tipped it at a certain angle. The deep, rich royal blue, which always made me smile—royal for my royal,I’d joked to myself a hundred times—Thaddeus’ penmanship scrolling across the page as the ink stained the parchment.
My power pulsed and moved toward something with purpose, no longer blindly searching. Once it arrived, it tugged at me, like someone pulling at a small thread to gain my attention.
The study?I asked.
A tug.
But we’ve looked everywhere in there.
It tugged harder, and the thread of power pulsed, insisting.
Leaving my notes, I followed the faint thread to the study where it had anchored itself. I entered the room and put my hand up, feeling for it. The tug brought me to the large couch I’d shied away from that first day, the image of my parents’ deaths still too fresh in my mind. Skipping that detail, I continued to narrow it down.
Understanding where it wanted me to search, I looked at the throw rug beneath the couch, dubious. Feeling like a fool, I relented, lowering down onto my stomach. My eyes surveyed the shadowed underbelly of the sofa, finding nothing.
I checked in with what I felt rather than what I saw.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmured to myself.
The tug pulled tight as if to say,Nope, I don’t kid.
“You better be right about this,” I said, unsheathing my dagger.
Repositioning my body, my fingers looked for the edges of the fabric on the underside of the couch. Finding what I’d been blindly feeling for, I cut a slit just wide enough for my hand to slide through and felt around, coming up empty.
Needing to readjust myself so I could reach in further, I pulled down slightly on the fabric. Something moved, and a cool cylindrical form hit my hand.
Palming the object, I freed my hand from the slit and saw the familiar royal-blue pen.
“I did it!” I exclaimed to the empty room. “Wedid it,” I amended, realizing that, had it not been for my powers, this pen would never have been found.
