Morning came, and I found myself half draped over Thaddeus as he held me in close. The deep scent of him was familiar, and I’d sorely missed it the last couple of days. He rested his chin atop my head and lazily stroked my arm with long, light movements. Nestled in his shoulder’s nook, I idly traced the curves of his chest, lost in thought about our conversation at dinner.
They’d been unsuccessful in breaking through the barrier between realms but found a way to see it, which was something. Nevander hadn’t seemed to think it was much, but Thaddeus reminded him that progress, no matter how small, was still progress. It was the first time I’d seen Nevander in almost a week, and he seemed more reticent than usual, bordering on brooding impatience, which was out of character for him. If anything, he typically leaned toward stoic.
“Is Nevander okay?” I ventured.
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know, he doesn’t seem himself—or he didn’t last night, and he hasn’t been around lately.” Thaddeus shifted, and I tilted my head to meet his gaze.
A small, lazy smile met me. “It’s sweet, your concern for them.” He kissed my forehead. “Nevander has been away on my order. He’s looking for other ways into the fae realm. I think the barriers work like a portal, and we’re not sure if it’s specific portals we can’t use, or if humans in general are unable to cross over. He’s been searching forthe past week or so and has come back empty-handed. It wears on him, that’s all.” His voice gave no indication as to how he personally felt about any of it.
I could understand Nevander feeling distant, frustrated, even. At least I’d been able to hold on to the tiny victories. If I didn’t afford myself that grace, I’d surely feel the same, possibly worse, over the near inconsequential progress I’d made with the spark. A myriad of emotions flooded me as I realized just how little I’d progressed and replayed Thaddeus’ words—progress is progress. I supposed when you’d had all the time in the world, over five centuries and counting, the small things would add up. But I didn’t have that luxury; none of us did anymore.
I’d never let myself think too far into the future. Processing my past, and what was happening now, was overwhelming as is. Yet, for whatever reason, my thoughts wandered into dangerous territory—into the future. What would happen to Thaddeus when my finite life span caught up to me? Would I be a mere blip to him, a distant memory after Father Death shepherded me away? Ideally, I would die of old age, but on my current trajectory, I doubted I’d be afforded such a luxury. I realized then that death didn’t scare me—or notmydeath, anyway. I was afraid of others dying, of the possible war and genocide that had been discussed all too casually.
“If we found the magical object,” I said, “and it could wield world-shattering powers, would you truly rid our planet of the fae?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation.
I sat up, taking him in, seeking the truth of his words, and I found it in his uncompromising expression.
“And you could live with yourself after?”
“Yes.”
“How can you reconcile that when not all fae are our enemies?”
“I cannot afford to think that way, to sort out the good from the bad is an impossible task. To me, it’s very simple. The fae have shown they wouldn’t hesitate to do the same. If it weren’t for my father’s sacrifice, for my abilities, wewouldn’t be having this conversation. It comes down to them or us. And when those are the only options, Nyleeria, I choose us—I’ll always choose us. That might make me a monster to some, but I’m okay with that. I can shoulder that burden, knowing my people will continue to exist. So, no, I don’t let myself think that way. And you’re right; some good fae will die, but that’s the cost of war. Of survival. I won’t apologize for defending my people—I’ll never apologize for that.”
“Thank you,” I offered and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
He tilted his head. “For what?”
“For letting me in, trusting me with your truth. You’re a good man, Thaddeus, stuck in an impossible situation.”
He winced, the movement so faint that had I not known him as well as I did, I wouldn’t have noticed it. “I’m not sure that’s true, Nyleeria.” A shadow seemed to fall over him, and Tarrin’s voice rang in my mind:He’s had to do things that mark a man’s soul, we all have. Not out of choice but necessity.I leaned over and placed my lips upon his, hoping to wash away even a fraction of the stain he felt on his soul.
“You’ve been a good man to me,” I said, not knowing how to reach him, how to help him in that moment. He’d had to carry ancient burdens longer than anyone should have to.
He pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. We lay there for a while, and I idly traced circles across his soft, tanned skin as I processed what had been said.
“Nyleeria?” he said, breaking the silence. My name on his lips was almost pained. I stilled, no longer exploring, as I listened to his heartbeat. I made to face him, but his grip tightened, holding me in place.
My own heart pounded against its confines, and a prickle of dread infected me, my fingers going numb. I knew what the tone meant, knew where this conversation was going. I held my breath, bracing myself for his next words.
“I want to tap into your powers again to find the magical object and the portal closest to it.” Thaddeus’ tone was neither questioningnor commanding, but neutral, as if he’d given voice to a thought that had repeated itself so many times in his head, it had lost the ability to evoke emotion.
I lay there still, my mind taking me back to the last time we tried. I forced myself to come back to the present moment.
“When?” I croaked.
He hesitated, and I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing what he’d say before he voiced it. “Today.”
Despite myself, my hands trembled. Feeling it, he gently wrapped them in his. I went to answer but couldn’t—fear crippling me.
He released my hands and tilted my chin up to face him, and silent tears slid down my cheeks. He let them roll over his sturdy fingers, which still held my chin. His gaze was pleading, broken. “I don’t know what else to do, Nyleeria.”
The truth was, I didn’t either. Not wanting to buckle under the weight of his petitioning gaze, I closed my eyes. A few more tears slipped out as I took a shallow, shaky breath.
