“Did it have any other properties?”
I thought back. “No. It was small, and white—no more than a fleeting ember.”
Silence fell between us as we slid into our thoughts.
“I’ve tried to do it again,” I added into the quiet, “but nothing happens.”
My nerves were on edge, and every agonizing second of his silence had me crawling with anxiety. I was on the verge of breaking it myself, unable to cope, but he beat me to it.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Damn.I was hoping he’d say anything but that. How could I tell him I didn’t trust him, or anyone, for that matter? He deserved better for all the kindness he’d shown me. He deserved the truth.
I swallowed. “When it happened, I considered it. Those words, the spark, that instant…” I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to feel it again before I continued, “It’s like my whole life there have been moving pieces that never stopped. Never fit. Like hundreds of rings perpetually moving. I know they belong somewhere, but they just keep spinning. When it happened, it felt like one of those pieces stopped spinning and clicked into place. Like it unlocked a part of my soul. It felt deeply personal, and…” I trailed off, not knowing how to explain it further. If there were words that could explain it, I couldn’t find them, although my mind continued to try.
Thankfully, the king saved me from conjuring a clearer explanation. “I understand, Nyleeria.”
“I’m sorry if my silence played any part in things going wrong.”
He gave me a sly grin. “I thinkwrongis the understatement of the century.” He chuckled before going serious again. “Is that why you’re telling me this, because you think what happened was your fault?”
I didn’t justthinkit was my fault, Iknewit was. I didn’t want to say it aloud, but that didn’t matter; the king was good at reading people, or maybe it was just me. I hadn’t seen him with others enough to know which.
“Guilt is a crippling emotion, Nyleeria.” I knew he was speaking from experience. “Allow me to assuage it for you. I don’t think there was anything we could have done to prevent what happened. It was a lesson learned the hard way, and one I don’t plan on repeating.”
“But I want to try again,” I said.
The muscles in his jaw feathered as he sat back in his chair, assessing. “I don’t think you’d survive that again, not so soon after your recovery.”
“I know.” I’d had the same thought over and over. It wasn’t lost on me that I was more fragile than when I’d attempted it thefirst time. I tensed, bracing myself. “I have to try. We lost a month. Anothermonththat Cassy and Leighton have been missing, and another month that your people aren’t safe. There must be a way.”
Any day without progress was a day too much. If the king was right and I was the key to ending this cold war, and if the fae did have the twins, then I’d have to master this spark to see them alive again—if they were alive at all. I pushed that thought down, not giving it the oxygen it craved to grow and take root.
“My people and I have waited centuries, another month is nothing in the grand scheme,” he said.
“But it is for Cassy and Leighton.” The words betrayed a desperation I hadn’t realized I harbored so viscerally. I took a moment to compose myself. “Tell me you’re closer to finding them, that you’ve searched for a way to mitigate the risks of me using magic.”
Eyes softening, he said, “Let’s focus on one thing at a time. In terms of the spark, yes, we’ve done research and have some ideas.”
“And the twins?” I asked, my heart swelling in anticipation and fear.
“You have to have faith, Nyleeria.”
“So, you haven’t found them.”
The heartbreaking empathy in his features was his only answer, and I sagged under the silence.
“Have you even tried?”
Slowly, he leaned forward in his chair and reached for me, taking my hands in his as he looked me in the eyes. “Nyleeria, I promise you on everything I hold dear in this world, that Cassy and Leighton’s well-being is of the utmost importance to me, as is yours.”
Taking in a deep breath, I squeezed his hands back in recognition of his promise and felt grateful to have him in my corner.
A month passed, and the king still hadn’t allowed me to work asingle spell; instead, we’d merely continued with exercises in connection and theory.
I got into the rhythm of breakfast, training sessions, forest time, reading, dinner, bed, and preparing for what was to come—whatever that might be.
My strength slowly came back, and I was finally able to start running in the woods and train without weapons. It was in that familiar territory that I lost count of the number of times a pang for Eithan stopped me dead in my tracks—but waxing nostalgic wasn’t going to change anything. I chided myself for lingering in those memories until they stopped holding power over me. I was half relieved, half heartbroken when those thoughts became fleeting.
