Hope surged inside me because then my uncle would live.
“Primelle, is there anything else you need?” Verin’s soft question snagged my attention to her. The servant stood by the door, a plate in her hands. A steaming biscuit slathered with butter and drizzled with honey waited upon it. “Or perhaps your favorite snack? I thought you may want to eat before you left.” She lifted the plate, offering it.
“No, Verin, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”
“Are you sure? You haven’t eaten today.” She thrust the plate forward more, yet her gaze was glued to my feet. I couldn’t remember the last time she looked anyone in the eye.
“Again, thank you, but I don’t need food. I’m not hungry.”Because how can I possibly eat at a time like this?
“Are you sure?” Her brows pinched together, and the tips of her fae ears turned pink.
I sighed, and a flare of irritation wafted through me. I knew the servant meant well, but she was always trying to feed me. But eating was hard, ever since my uncle...
I tempered my frustration and forced a smile. Verin didn’t deserve the brunt of our misfortune. After all, nourishment was required to survive, and she was just trying to help. But given the state of our household, that’d been challenging during the previous weeks.
“Actually, Verin, if you want to start taking everythingoutside that I’ve already packed, that would be helpful. My boxes are in the entryway, but if anything’s too heavy for you, I can use my telekinetic magic to lift it.”
“I shall manage.” She dipped into a curtsy and scurried from the room, taking the aroma from the honey-drizzled biscuit with her.
I was about to cinch my sack closed, but another book on my nightstand caught my attention. It was a romance novel, hardly relevant for what lay ahead, but I snatched it up anyway and thrust it into my bag. A distraction might be needed at some point. It wouldn’t hurt to bring it along.
“That should be everything.” I eyed the window. Morning sunlight streamed into the room. Any minute now, the bells would toll seven in the morning. I faced my aunt and tried to ignore her brow pinched with worry. “I should go. They predicted the Wishing Stone would have landed within the last hour. I imagine many fae have already left by now.”
“You’re truly doing this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am, so please stop making me feel guilty about it.”
My aunt sighed, the sound long and heavy. “Come here, Primelle.” She pulled me into a hug, and I instantly clung to her.
Tears formed in my eyes at her tight squeeze, and it all of a sudden hit me at what I was about to do. “I’ll save him, Gwen,” I said, my words thick. “You’ll see.”
She chuffed lightly and squeezed me harder. “Do you know how many fae are going to be after the Stone?”
“A few?” I joked.
She laughed lightly, and a rush of relief filled me that she seemed as determined as me not to part on bad terms. “The problem with the Wishing Stone is thateveryoneknows it’s coming.”
“True.” I shrugged and pulled back. “But that doesn’t meanIcan’t find it before anyone else.”
Her look turned tender. “Always so optimistic.”
“My most endearing trait, as you constantly say.” I batted my eyelashes playfully. “But you just wait. I’ll find it even though the entire realm knows it’s arrived. Because remember, I have a unique plan. A plan nobody else could possibly have since Uncle Timith only made one seekerill, and if it works, he’ll be saved.”
“I know, I know.” She sighed again and brushed a lock of hair from my forehead. “If only nobody else knew of its arrival, I’d feel much better.”
“If wishes were fishes, we’d all cast nets.”
She shook her head at my light tone, but a chuckle still escaped her. Yet, despite me trying to make her feel better, I could understand her trepidation. Unlike a number of celestial events our realm experienced, she was right.Everyonehad known the Wishing Stone was coming.
Given the Wishing Stone’s magic, it’d bypassed the Dark Night—an area in our solar system that was cloaked in magic and made all light appear black. And because the Wishing Stone had been visible for so many days, millions of fae knew itwas coming, which meant many others likely had prepared as well.
I had no idea how many fae would be hunting the Stone, but it was imperative that Ifound it before any other could claim it, because the Wishing Stone’s magic allowed its finder one wish,anywish, such as a wish that would cure a fairy of a mysterious, terminal illness. A wish that would save a fairy’s life.
I lifted my pack and slung one of the straps over my shoulder. Just as fast, my aunt squeezed my hand. “Please be careful.”
“I will be.”
“And if someone accosts or attacks you?—”
