“That’s precisely why I want to see it, feel it. It’s so miniscule, it should hardly cause any uproar,” she retorted.
I fidgeted, trying to find a way around her resolve. “We should clear it with Orin first.”
As I hoped, this gave Tasia pause. But only for the briefest moment before her expression shifted to one of hardened disgust and anger. Her lips curled as she practically spat her words. “I’m tired of following Orin’s rules. They’ve gotten us nowhere.”
“If I threadmend without his knowledge—”
“Do it. Now. And then we’ll be doneplaying.” Tasia’s words stung with the tang of magic, and my body shuddered. My power practically crawled out my throat as I gripped the rug for purchase.
“I can’t with your glamour,” I wheezed. “I need to see the threads.”
“Tasia, youmustn’t.” Amalyss’s voice jumped an octave as she glanced between us. “If Orin finds out...”
Tasia ignored her completely. “I’ll only remove the glamour on my forearm. That should be enough.”
She trailed her fingers lightly over her inner arm, as if pinching an invisible scrap of fabric, and then cast her hand to the side to leave her arm exposed. My eyes dropped to the unfettered scrap of tawny skin and the shallow cut peeling apart. Between her command and the sight of the wound, my power fully came to a head—and with it, so did a few of Tasia’s life threads. They snuck out of her gash and danced in the air, and I gasped at their splendor. I’d never glimpsed an Ever’s energy before. Where humans’ threads were a vibrant green, Tasia’s were a startling aquamarine infused with glittering diamonds. They were nearly blinding to watch, but there was a darkened gray hue to one’s base, right where it stemmed from the wound.
“Your glamour isn’t completely gone,” I said, peering closer.
“It’s hard to isolate such a small patch,” Tasia muttered, and I glanced up to see sweat had dampened her brow. But her gaze was resolute, and she thrust her arm forward. “Mend me. Now.”
There was no sense in denying her. Pushing as much energy as I could to my fingers, I began the process of threadmending. Cupping my hands around the fraying strand in question, I began to douse it in magic so that I could grip it tightly and stitch it back together with my power.
I pinched one tattered end and reached for another when the pain started. Just a flicker of uncomfortable heat where the cut would’ve been on my own arm. But quickly that heat bloomed and flushed from my neck to my face. A tremble started in my hands, and I stared at the quivering thread skewered between my forefinger and thumb.
This was a cut. Nothing more. I should’ve experienced some minor discomfort, perhaps followed by a healing, prickling itch and a mild headache from expending my power. But this? My body tensed. I could barely think through the heat in my veins.
“How did you get this cut again?” I asked.
Her wide eyes bounced from my trembling hands to my dampened hairline. Amalyss had gone still, her mouth slightly parted, and her face paled before she yanked her sister away, taking Tasia’s threads along with her. Adrenaline left me in a cool rush as gooseflesh rippled over my skin.
Fear shone in their eyes for several breaths, and their gazes traversed the length of my body over and over as if searching for answers. Some hint of weakness? Sickness?
“Why did you stop me?” I hadn’t cured her, and yet I couldn’t shake the underlying spread of pain that still trickled through my limbs.
A flicker of relief raced through Tasia’s expression, and she sighed.
“Wasn’t it obvious?” Amalyss shot her sister a glance. “Our Ever magic was too strong for you to handle. A cut shouldn’t have affected you that much.” She nodded curtly toward a lone bead of sweat sliding down my temple.
I studied every inch of their haughty expressions, but all traces of concern were wiped clean from their faces. Dread was a sink weight in my gut, and I stilled. “No previous threadmender has been able to cureanythingfor you?”
Amalyss flicked her hair over her shoulder and let out a smug tsk. “Well, Orin seemed to have such high expectations for you, so we thought you’d be different. Clearly, we were wrong.”
Panic set my heart racing. Everything was a game to these Evers. Their intentions, the truth. Now I had to consider that Ever threads were that much harder to mend? I was rash to think theprocess would be the same as that for human threads. Ever magic taintedeverything.
Pushing myself to my feet, I fisted my hands by my sides and took a step toward the door.
“We’re done here,” I spat. But just as I went to grasp the handle, the world shifted on its axis and I stumbled, barely catching myself on an end table laden with candles. Exhaustion from mending had settled deep into my muscles, and already my body was longing for bed. It didn’t matter how much I wanted to find Orin and hang these pretentious shits out to dry for their actions. I’d have to wait.
Or maybe not.
The door swung inward, and I barely stepped out of the way before the handle clipped my arm. Which of course caused me to stumble over my feet and go tumbling toward the floorboards, only to have an arm quickly slide beneath my waist.
“Edira,” Orin said, eyes stricken with concern. He quickly helped me stand as his gaze roved the length of my body. “Are you all right?”
“Amalyss. Tasia. What have we here?” Rorik leaned in the open doorway, his shoulder propped against the frame with Ywena fluttering about his head. Malice filled his words as he stared at the girls with a sardonic, tense smile, and the whole room went still. Both girls shifted their pleading stares to Orin.
“Orin, we didn’t—”
