I bite the inside of my lip. I don’t want to say it out loud, not until I know I’m right. “I don’t know. When he finds out, King Atlas will not be pleased, because he doesn’t like to lose control and right now he thinks he is the only one who can remove them.”
“Does age matter … when receiving magic?” Rhenor asks as he looks at his hands, as if wishing to feel some sort of something between his palms.
“It shouldn’t,” I reply.
Siphonie leans down whispering something in his ear that makes him smile, before Carnaxa asks, “Then how does King Atlas know more about magic and controlling it than even us in Antalis? I grew up hearing stories from before the Great War about the magic that once flowed, but was told they were nothing more than legends.”
“Each heir from Shaston seems to hold the memories of the one before once they are crowned king. In my village we would often keep a scout inside Shaston’s borders waiting for a king who would be different, better than the last. It never happened, each child born becomes more befoul in the soul than the father.”
“My father has magic now, he did even before we left. I’m sure of it,” Ereon mentions, running his hand down his beard. “On our arrival, when I first saw him, it felt like my body was on fire. So why not just do what he wishes with what he has?”
“One’s power takes time to fully manifest after it’s been dormant for so long.” I don’t have these answers, not fully. The gods have their own set of rules when it comes to magic, and sometimes they are never explained. “Have you read the journal?” I ask Carnaxa.
She shakes her head. “Not yet, why?”
“It should contain answers, even more than I have.”
“I’ll look at it.” Carnaxa stands and turns to Ereon and Thylas. “For now, you two will tell me what is happening in Antalis and why my mother told me in a dream that my father needs me.”
Their faces blanch as they glance at each other. It’s Ereon who answers, “He’s sick with the deluc. We didn’t want to tell you incase you —” Suddenly rain begins to pour inside the tent, radiating from Carnaxa.
“He’s dying and none of you thought you should tell me!” she screams. “I need to get to Antalis. I don’t care what we are supposed to be doing here. He needs me.”
Thylas runs to her. “Naxa, calm down ...” She waves her hand and a wave of magic pushes him away. He falls to the floor in front of Rhenor, who helps him stand.
Ereon walks through the rain towards her, the water turning to ice as he does. “Ryehro, listen to me.” He steps up to her, the shells between them glowing. The twin drop — recognizing one of them is in pain and calling to the other. “We will find a way to get you to him. Our mission here is already a waste of time, thekukheare progressing south towards us. I’ll get you home, Princess. I planned to leave tomorrow, but right now we need you to calm down.”
His curls are bogged down and the rain turns to tiny icicles on his beard. The floor is changing from sloshing pools of water to patches of ice. I tilt my head, the ice — it’s not coming from her. I look around, wondering which of the Antalians have received such power. Someone is using it unintentionally.
Carnaxa’s tears stream down her face. “I don’t know how!” She clutches her chest, her anxiety taking control.
“It’s like breathing — just calm down and tell it what you want it to do,” I yell over the downpour.
She cuts her eyes to me. “Like breathing ...” She closes her eyes and the rain fades away before disappearing altogether. Carnaxa falls to the floor, still in tears.
Everything around us is wet, soaking us to the bones. I send a pulse of magic to the fire, first drying the logs and then relighting the flame, before I let my body heat up. I won’t be able to fully dry off everyone as I’m still suffering from the effects of the shackles being on for so long, but I’ll do what I can.
It’s then I sense another heat approaching me. Tracing the path of the sensation, I observe Thylas’ emerald eyes fixed on Carnaxa and Ereon. I can feel the ripples of magic ebbing and flowing among them. It appears as if Thylas can still see the manifestation of the twin drop, his eyes are focused on the shells adorning their skin. His temperature is rising, drying everything off around him as his growing anger radiates out in physical form. Can he see the connection between them still? He shouldn’t be able to, not without the matching ripple.
I walk to him, touching his shoulder. His body is burning. I stand on my tiptoes and whisper, “Calm yourself.” He blinks quickly and averts his gaze from Carnaxa and Ereon and looks into my eyes, as if he didn’t realize what was happening. “They don’t need to know yet, not until we find out more.”
He nods subtly and I can already sense his fading warmth.
“Let’s take tonight to sleep and we will talk again in the morning. Carnaxa …” Siphonie begins, the first to pull herself back together. “Let’s go get some dinner and try to relax. We’ve all had a long day.” She eyes Rhenor. “Come on … let’s get things prepared to leave.” She squats beside Carnaxa and helps her stand before they take their leave.
“Was any of it real?” Ereon walks toward me, the ice in his beard melting. “Did you ever love me, or was I just a way to survive?”
I turn my face down. “Ereon, I’m sorry.”
“That’s not an answer.” He stares at me before turning to Thylas. “Take care of her.” He briefly glances at me before looking back to Thylas. “You are welcome to see Carnaxa anytime.”
Ereon turns, leaving only Thylas and me inside of the tent.
“What a mess we’ve all made,” is all he says before he casts his clothes to the side and crawls into his now dry bed. “I’m too exhausted for much more.”
I stand oddly, uncertain of what to do now that Carnaxa has regained her memories. Thylas and I were at least able to find solace in each other, but now ... I walk to the door.
“Don’t leave. I know I will always love her, but right now … I think something is wrong with me. I’m not the same — I haven’t been.”
