“Impressive.” Artton’s voice came from behind me, and I turned my head toward him as Kaelun let the pit go back to its natural form before coming to my side and facing his uncle. “Endymion claimed you were good, but I rather think he downplayed your skills.”
“Careful, Artton,” I said, sucking in another long breath before righting myself, “that sounded an awful lot like a compliment.”
He smirked. “Take it as you like.”
I rolled my eyes, the euphoria from throwing suddenly draining from me and giving way to annoyance—the emotion quickly becoming synonymous with this insufferable summer fae. Hand on hip, I said, “What do you want, Artton?”
All humor left his features, and he shared a look with his nephew before refocusing on me. “I’m here to ask you to reconsider our request to see your memory.”
I scoffed. “Clearly, they don’t want me to agree that badly,” I said, swiping my slip-ons and slipping them back on.
“What would make you say that?” he asked.
“Because, they wouldn’t have sent you to ask.” Turning my attention to Kaelun, I gestured for us to go— side-stepping Artton’s large, stubbornly unmoving frame to make for the bridge.
“Nyleeria.” My name off his tongue was pure command. I pivoted to face him only to find him reaching for me.
My hands instantly sought blades. “Don’t,” I said, voice glacial.
He paused, looking down at his hand as if he hadn’t even realized he’d reached for me before he pulled up to his full height, jaw clenched, and utterly unapologetic.
I glowered at him for a long, hard moment, then made for the bridge again. Head high, back straight, I’d planned on walking right across the damn thing with steady strides, showing the strength in my conviction—in thenoI’d so clearly stated to Caius. Unfortunately, fear didn’t give two shits that I was trying to make a point, and my body came to an abrupt halt when I reached the threshold.
“Kaelun,” I said softly, putting my right hand to the side, indicating that I needed his help. He conjured the rope and shifted to hand it to me.
“Stand down, soldier,” Artton ordered, coming up behind us.
Kaelun stayed still, his eyes darting between mine, his rope, andhis uncle—no, his commander. An apologetic sadness crept into his features as he took a step back, the rope vanishing along with his help.
I whirled on Artton. “What’s your play here, commander?” I spat the title at him with as much disdain as I could muster.
“If you’d just listen to me for a second?—”
“Did I fucken stutter before? Because my answer is no, Artton. And how dare you come here and corner me like this,” I said, voice raising with each word.
“We need?—”
“I don’t give a fuck what youneed. I truly don’t. So, stop. Fucken. Asking.”
I turned my back to him, the blood in my ears louder than his next words. Anger filled my heart as unbidden flashes of the memory they so coveted filled my mind, and the false sense of bravado fueled by a need to get away overrode my fear. One moment I was on solid ground; the next I’d stepped onto nothingness, walking away from the platform and the pressure to share what I’d already lived too many times.
Kaelun kept his distance as I’d gathered a few of Endymion’s books and made my way to Tarrin’s side. I was grateful for the sound barrier that preventedthe humanfrom hearing anything outside the confines of these walls—I was uninterested in hearing them talk about me or what they thought my memory could unlock for them. Actually, I was uninterested in anything they had to say.
They’d left me alone to find the refuge I sought next to Tarrin—a trend that spanned over five days. Yes, Myron continued his healing sessions, Kai brought me food, and Kaelun walked with me to grab new sets of books from my residence, but they’d done it all in near silence. Kaelun had tried to convince me to sleep in my residenceonce instead of draping myself over the side of Tarrin’s bed, but I’d ignored his suggestion.
At some point, someone had brought in two large lounging chairs that faced the windows. Like all rooms, this one had a marvelous view of the lake, which had long since gone out of focus as I slipped into my thoughts—the book I was reading on court politics all but forgotten.
Today marked a week since I’d found Tarrin and dragged him over the border. A week since I begged for Caius to save him. A week of Myron constantly tending to him.
A week since Endymion had left.
I hadn’t heard anything from the autumn commander since he’d returned my daggers, and a part of me felt stupid for thinking I would. In fact, the hope that he’d get another note to me was the main reason I’d gone back to my residence daily. Or at the very least, more books. But nothing had come, and while a part of me was disappointed, for some reason a larger part of me was worried.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just him I worried about. No, worry had become a constant companion of mine. It was Endymion, Tarrin, the twins, the fate of Lumnara, and so many other things that weighed heavily on my heart. The only thing I hadn’t worried about was my powers—that is, until I overheard Caius ask Kaelun if I’d dispelled, to which Kaelun said that I hadn’t needed to because of myemotional state.Apparently worry is akin to fear… so my powers didn’t flow as freely, or as Kaelun put it,sputtered before they could amass.Which was a problem to be solved on another day. Right now, I was grateful I didn’t have to deal with learning how to dispel—especially if I’d be forced to do it with Artton. Luckily, he’d been overtly absent.
“Mind if I sit?” Caius’ deep voice startled me, and my book tumbled to the ground. Kneeling, he collected it and put it on the small table between us. “May I?” he asked again, gesturing to the empty chair to my right.
I nodded.
