I blew out a breath of frustration. The breath hit my legs hard as I was looking down.
Air. Breath.
I raised a hand to my mouth, blew gently into my palm. Maybe it was futile to try and capture the air swirling around me at will. Maybe I needed to work with the air already connected to me. I exhaled against my palm again, feeling the warmth and coolness intertwining, the breath that had been part of me mere moments before twirling into the world around me.
Again and again I breathed, discerning tiny differences in pressure where air met skin, slipped between fingers, curled around my hand. I began teasing out the particles more clearly, like little drops of imaginary dew. I noticed where the air hit on my hand, how it moved and circled and swirled until it dissipated into the rest of the world.
Eventually, I extended my magic once again. These tendrils were starting to feel like an extra sense. Taste, smell, sound, touch, sight, and now… magic.
This time, I was able to guide the breath I exhaled around my hand so that none of it touched my palm at all. I blew out, justinches away from my skin, but I couldn’t feel the breeze at all. Success tingled deep inside me—small, but real.
I practiced until I could wrap a thread of air around a finger like a miniature tornado. When the night air grew chilly, I opened my eyes, selected the familiar stone, and drew the remaining dew from the grass. The rock hovered, and water encased it. I’d done this before.
This time, I blew a slow breath toward the spinning sphere and guided the air in gentle strokes around it. The rock wobbled, water sloshed, but I steadied both, exhaled again, and coaxed the air into widening rings—like halos around a tiny planet. I held the orbit, breathing, balancing, until at last I felt the elements moving in imperfect but undeniable harmony.
“The Triune Queen.”
Seer Goddard’s gravelly voice rolled over my ears, but this time it wasn’t coarse, demanding, or disappointed. It sounded pleased—almost excited. There was a current of energy in his tone, as though he could hardly believe it.
I opened my eyes. Magic—there was no other word for it—spun before me: air, water, and earth whirling together in an electric sphere that felt alive.
“Very good,” he said. “Impressive. You mastered this far sooner than expected.”
“Sooner?” I echoed. “It feels like it’s been ages.”
Something resembling a smile flickered across Seer Goddard’s lined face. No one would have mistaken it for a grin, but it wasn’t disappointment either, and that felt wonderful.
“Go home,” Seer Goddard said. “Rest. You are almost ready for The Glade.”
“The Glade? What’s that?”
“The place where your Fae ancestors may speak to you.”
I went still. “My ancestors? I thought all the previous Fae are dead.”
“Yes, but their spirits remain. When a Fae Queen dies, her spirituality doesn’t vanish.”
“I never considered that. Have you ever been to this Glade?”
The Seer scoffed—closer to amusement than derision. “No. It is for Fae Queens only, and even you will struggle to reach it. The good news is that unlocking your powers is not a solo endeavor. Your ancestors will be invested in helping you succeed.”
I licked my lips, goosebumps spreading down my legs. “That makes me feel a little less lonely in my new title.”
“Even if past queens aren’t physically present, their spirits exist. You must access them to unlock your full potential. As I said, they want to help. They will work in unison with you.”
“Can they talk to me? Like you and I having a conversation?”
Seer Goddard tilted his head. “I don’t know. I can only guide you there. Once you arrive, the rest is beyond me.”
Loneliness pinched my chest, but his expression softened into a tender smile—brief, so quick I’d have missed it if I’d blinked.
“I think this will be the least lonely part of your journey,” Seer Goddard assured me kindly. “Perhaps it will feel like coming home. Now, go. Rest. I’ll see you in a few hours. Bring your manuscript.”
“Which one?”
“The one you’ll need,” Seer Goddard said. “There will be a spell to help you access The Glade. You’ll know it when you find it.”
I looked up to see the moon hanging high in the sky. Midnight, if not later, and I was due back at daybreak. As I unfolded my aching limbs, excitement buzzed through my veins. I might have the opportunity to get assistance fromother Fae Queens.I hadn’t even allowed myself to dream of such a thing.
When Gus had given me those textbooks, I’d felt a flicker of relief—proof that someone distantly connected to me had once held them. I’d cherished them as the only solid lifeline to mypast. But to actually hear the wisdom of past queens? I couldn’t imagine it.
Seer Goddard thought I was ready. He’d even said I’d progressed faster than expected. The training had felt agonizingly slow to me, but maybe I was simply impatient. Either way, I needed sleep. I was determined to meet my ancestors at daybreak.
