Learning about the fae proved challenging as the veil had wiped any written word from our lands, making it nearly impossible to effectively research their realm. The king offered information here and there, but it wasn’t comprehensive, and a lot of it was hearsay. I pulled out novels to learn about the folklore, but there was no way of knowing which details were spurred by my imagination, and which were inspired by the fae themselves.
Over the weeks, I’d allowed myself to soak in the exquisite detailing around me as I walked the halls to the octagonal room, and today was no different. It would take lifetimes to commit the ornate décor to memory—even then, I’m not sure I could remember it all as some paintings and tapestries transformed as the lighting changed throughout the day.
I entered the training room to find Tarrin and Nevander waiting for me with the king. They’d never joined us before, and I looked to the king, questioning.
“Tarrin and Nevander will be part of your training moving forward,” he answered.
I raised a brow.
“I think you’re ready for spellcraft,” the king said, sounding trepidatious.
I offered him a tentative smile, immediately feeling the exactsame way. I’d advocated for this moment every day, but now that it was finally here, my body suddenly remembered what was at stake, forcing me to wipe my palms dry.
The king’s eyes traveled to the middle of the room, and I followed his gaze, noting a massive crystalline structure. I’d been too focused on the three of them when I entered that I’d missed it.
Stepping up to the crystal, I could appreciate how large it was. Its tip came to just below my collarbone, and I was fairly certain it was too thick for me to wrap my arms around it. Most notably, though, I could feel a fervent energy radiating from it like the buzzing of bees.
I turned to the king and braced myself for what came next.
Chapter 17
An Unvarnished Truth
The four of us formed a loose semicircle facing the crystal from a few paces away. The king drew my attention away from the beautiful structure as he spoke. “That day you pulled those spidery marks from us, Nyleeria, Tarrin noted how your abilitiesfeeldifferent than mine—and I think he’s right.” The king shifted his focus from me to his second-in-command. Unsure of what to expect, I did the same.
“I’ve been on the receiving end of Thaddeus’ spellcraft for centuries now,” Tarrin explained, “and it’s less…charged. But also, less connected.”
“I haven’t physically experienced your magic firsthand,” Nevander added, “but I felt something similar as I witnessed it. The only time I’m able to feel Thaddeus’ spells is if I’m on the receiving end, and even then, it feels different. When he casts, it’s as if he pulls in energy and sends it out again, but in another form. It’s quick and complete, like a jab in hand-to-hand.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” I said, wondering why these differences were important.
“Allow me to demonstrate,” the king said, readying himself tocast. “I want you to pay close attention to the energies and how they flow.”
He conjured a brilliant ball of blue-white energy and hurled it toward the crystal, which absorbed it with ease.
He did it again, only this time I noticed a faint aura of energy encased the king before it appeared to pulse energy into his body that flowed to his hands, forming another orb. Keeping my focus on that aura, a blue-white streak passed through my periphery and into the stone. As if on cue, the aura faded, as if depleted—or perhaps returning to its natural state. The most interesting thing, though, was how only a tiny fragment of power seemed to surge through him.
“Do it again,” I said, wanting to observe how it felt this time.
He did.
They were right. The energy flowing through him was subtle and swift, like a shooting star lighting up the midnight sky with its fleeting brilliance. It paled to the depthless well that thrummed within me. His power was less…alive. As if its signature was that of an inanimate tome as opposed to the pulsing vibrancy of life.
“Again,” I said.
I’d made him do it repeatedly, gleaning more information every time.
It truly was symbiotic. For him, magic didn’t exist; he had to create it by converting power through spells. Like a seed lying dormant until the right conditions existed for it to flourish, he gave it what it needed, but he himself had no such abilities.
With this newfound understanding, I reached for that place buried deep within me and wondered whatitneeded to spring to life. Something clicked, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized it before now.
“I didn’t use a spell to move the leaf that day,” I said.
The king stopped and turned to me, brows furrowed. “Are you sure? I assumed you at least thought the words.”
“No. I mean, yes,” I amended. “When I first tried, when it didn’t work, I repeated the words incessantly. But when you had me visualize being in the meadow, it was just…pure feeling. No thoughts, no words, no spells.”
“Is that possible?” Tarrin asked.
