The Markoláb had almost killed me, something I shuttered to remember, and Szarvus had visited me. Those truths were not inconsequential.
“We have been training your power over the element of water. But you said it yourself: tides, Ren—the moon must have given you control over the tides. You have wielded moonlight unwittingly since the very beginning. You are Moonkissed.” He leaned back into the settee, lips parted.
“I… Once in a lifetime mágik?” A tear slipped over the curve of my cheek. I pressed my shaking hands between my knees and squeezed hard. “I am nobody. I’m not even Acsillan. Why would the Goddesses choose me?”
“You’re not nobody. I think you are far more important than you understand,” Harkin murmured. His words were quilted, so soft and warm.
I could not agree with him, nor could I deny his claims—not with all the evidence laid out before us.Somethingwas happening here.
Firelight flickered over my face in a dance of gold and amber. It whispered a crackling song that settled my bones and calmed myracing pulse. My head began to lull, too heavy for my boneless neck to hold any longer. I let my cheek lay against the armrest, unbound hair falling across my face.
In the space between wakefulness and dreams, I felt the blissful tug and scrape of fingers over my scalp. The gentlest touch of hands, untangling the short strands and weaving them into plaits. As the last of me settled into sleep, I could not tell if it had been real or the beginning of a lovely dream.
Chapter twenty-six
Seren
Colors and blurred light overlayed the imprint of Harkin’s face as he gazed upon me at the spring. Confusion and amazement filled his features as if I had surprised him. As if he had not wanted to look away.
I wondered if perhaps he had looked upon me with care all along.
When his face finally came into sharp focus, I saw that it was no longer Harkin before me. It was Théo, sitting at one end of a long table, stiff in a high backed chair. He looked so out of place outside of the melancholy remnants of the cathedral. His expression grew tense under the weight of five discerning stares.
“Your Majesty, the troops march on Ordéles. I have identified fifty of their Guardians along the border. Our guards will have little trouble dispatching them and moving forward with their mission,” Théo said, hands wringing together in a repetitive motion.
“Hmm,” the king acknowledged. “Imre, what say you?”
I drew along the side of the table, moving slowly though I knew they could not see me. The king was directly across from me now, but it was as if his face was made from smoke and shadow. The dream bent around him, drawing my attention away.
Ignatius Imre sat straighter in his seat, puffing his barrel chest. “You put too much stock in the boy, sir. Let us burn the Guardiansto a crisp and be done with it. No use wasting time withstrategic pairingswhen good old blunt force will do the trick far faster.”
The words were mocking, and Théo bit his lip. He took a deep breath before responding.
“All due respect,” he began, “but these pairings have proven the most efficient method of succeeding in our missions without losing our own troops. Outright battle, unplanned and relying on firepower alone… Acsillans and Ordélesans alike will only suffer more for it.”
“Goddesses…” I muttered, squinting hard at Théo as if I could cut through the fabric of the dream if I only focused hard enough. They were so vivid—so real.
“Ah. The boy cares for the suffering of Ordélesans now! I have truly heard it all.” The fire wielder laughed, and Araceli Basa was quick to join in. Her air mágik swirled around him, teasingly.
Their conversation looped again in my mind. No flesh and blood Acsillan would ever worry for the fate of Ordélesans; no Rázuri would ever care for the souls of humans. The dreams could not be anything but a figment of my imagination, some desperate soft spot within me that desired to protect both of my homes.
“And what of water wielders?” Hesperia Farkas questioned, jumping in before they could dig Théo deeper into the grave. “What happens when their battles cross yours? What happens when they quench your fire, Ignatius?”
Théo inclined his head to her in subtle thanks.
Ignatius grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Have you never seen a man boiled alive, Farkas? Water does not quench fire. Not if you know what you’re doing with it.”
“Do they know how to wield their mágik thus?”The king asked.
“Well, they ought to,” Ignatius sputtered.
“Have you instructed them on this specifically? Or are you making assumptions, Councilman?” Théo leaned forward as he said the words, splayed his hands flat in front of him in a non-threatening gesture.
Ignatius Imre brought his fist down hard against the table. Singe marks burned into the wood, sending smoke curling toward the rafters. “How dare you! You do not get to question me, nor any of us.”
I stepped forward, water already licking down the length of my arms.
“Théo is a member of this Royal Council. He wields life mágik, Ignatius. We need him.” Hesperia spoke slowly, deliberately.
