Heat bloomed across my cheeks as I stared at his chest. “I’m not adverse to learning.”
Slowly, his hands went to my waist. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You were the one who mentioned performictum.”
At that, I laughed. “I probably have some stowed away in my cases.”
“Hardly necessary.” His grin stretched wide, and I marveled at the beauty that was him. I searched his face, lingering on every unique feature and display of Ever magic. He was so open. It was strange to feel breathless at the sight of him, knowing everything he wanted from me. How he was fine with ushering in my death at the expense of saving Mavis. And yet, I understood. Saving my family, caring for my brothers, was all I’d been doing for as long as I could recall.
I’d never wanted to see someone’s life threads so badly.
Without warning, I summoned my power from the depths of my body and willed it outward. Orin’s eyes grew wide as his gaze shot to my now glowing fingertips, and all at once his glamour slammed back into place. The sudden wall barricading his magicwas a forceful, cold sting, and I jolted, just as a loud knock hammered into the door.
My hand remained frozen over Orin’s chest, and he clamped it tight before pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “I apologize. I sensed someone coming and reacted without thinking.”
Was that all? I struggled to find words but capped my power and nodded. Half-baked thoughts skittered through my mind, forming and disappearing like a faint breeze.
“Come in,” Orin called without breaking my gaze.
The door swung inward with far too much force, and Rorik strolled into the room. He took one look at our joined hands and rolled his eyes.
“Rorik. To what do we owe this pleasure?” Orin asked.
I broke away immediately. A wry smile pulled at Rorik’s expression, but it felt stilted, and his eyes were cold. Even the ease with which he leaned against the doorframe was a pretense, a picture of nonchalance that wasn’t quite right. Ywena was perched on his shoulder, and her wings fluttered once as her antennae twitched.
“I came to return Ywena to Edira,” he said. “It’s been three days. Seems I’m the only one concerned about her resuming training.”
Orin straightened. “We were merely discussing her needs.”
He barked out a laugh. “Of that I have no doubt.”
“Did the Starglens accept?” Orin asked, ignoring his jab entirely.
“Yes. I still think it’s a foolish idea, by the way.” He sauntered toward the desk and braced his hands on the back of the armchair. “Not safe in the slightest.”
“Noted.” Orin tipped his head toward me. “Edira, would you give me and my brother some privacy, please?”
“Of course.” I quickly skirted around Rorik. As I did, Ywenatook flight and found her home against the crook of my neck. The familiar tickle of her feet sent goose bumps down my back.
“We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.” Rorik smirked as he met my gaze. “You know, with our individual training. Don’t forget your pants. Again.”
Heat threatened to tinge my cheeks pink at the same time Orin stiffened.
“One of these days, Rorik, I’ll pin you to the ground beneath my boots, and you’ll pray I’m wearing a skirt so you at least see something nice before I spit in your face.” I spun on my heel and made for the door. “See you tomorrow.”
I didn’t bother to turn and examine Rorik’s expression, instead smiling to myself as Orin’s robust laugh followed me out.
Eleven
From my quiet window bench in the library, I watched Orin hold lessons for the Ever children. Blankets had been arranged on the pristine lawns of the courtyard in a semicircle around a slender tree with emerald leaves and budding pink flowers. Dappled sunlight filtered through the branches, and Orin leaned against the trunk as he peered at an assortment of papers in his hands. Amalyss and Tasia shared a woven tapestry, and their gazes were downcast, their hands firmly clasped. It seemed they were no longer confined to their “cell.”
With them sat two additional Evers: Flix, whom I recognized from the foyer, and a young boy with eyes the same shade as the first fringes of dusk. His blue-black hair was deeper than the night sky. On his neck was a smattering of indigo dots and thin lines that connected in the shape of a constellation: the family crest of the Starglens. With practiced ease, he manifested tiny stars that danced about his fingers in strangely beautiful patterns. Flix did the same, summoning a swirling orb of ink-black water that churned angrily in his palm. He was the only one who dared toreveal a sliver of his true form. His horns were proudly on display, his locks expertly parted around them.
It’s hard to isolate such a small patch.
The ghost of Tasia’s words sent a chill down my spine. She’d been so reluctant to let go of her glamour, and yet Flix had enough control to display his horns. Was he stronger than them? Or something else? Centering myself with a breath, I called on my power. Magic thrummed through my veins and a soft glow began to emanate from my body. I knew my eyes would be doused in the same light, granting me the ability to see life threads.
Normally, anyway. But with Evers, there was always glamour. And glamour hideverything.
Just as it had been with Tasia and Amalyss, each Ever seemed to be coated in a thin gossamer fabric that softened the outlines of their body. Immediately I focused on the space where Flix’s horns had punctured through the magic. They were clear and free of glamour, a glistening black that seemed to throb with power. And right at the base, where the magic veil was layered, I caught a glimpse of a wayward thread that had somehow snuck through. It should’ve been as vibrant as Tasia’s and yet was a leeched gray.
