Clesian extended his hand, palm up, and curled his fingers inward for a moment before a cloud of green mist hovered between his fingers. With it came the fresh scent of spring and a tingling sensation of warmth, the hint of sunbaked air. “I couldn’t do this before Lydia. But I learned quickly with her by my side. It would be the same for you if...” He trailed off and his power dissipated, leaving the room strangely cold.
“I’ll talk to him, but just in case”—I rotated my glass once more—“any help would be appreciated.” I wanted to know if there was a chance I could live just a little longer with his magic twisting through me. If I could protect my threads, then I would have more years to spend with Noam and Nohr. Maybe even the ability to mend without ramification. Maybe... maybe a different future. Lydia and Clesian merely nodded their agreement, and the conversation stalled as attendants appeared from the kitchen to clean the last of the plates and food. When they cleared out, Seville stood and stretched her arms toward the rafters.
“Well, we have quite a bit more time this go-around.” She looked at me for a moment and then turned for the hall. “Don’t push yourself.”
With a flick of her wrist over her shoulder, she sauntered out and left me to say good night to the others. Amalyss and Tasia wrapped me in tight hugs before promising to go through what was left of their texts in case there was anything on bonding magic I could use, and then Clesian ushered them out with a gentle nudge between their shoulders.
Only Lydia remained, perfectly poised on the threshold between the dining room and the hall. She pivoted to give me the full weight of her stare. “I know I thanked you once before, for what you did for our family, but...” She wrung her fingers together before flexing them out and letting them fall limply by her side. “Rorik might be right about this, Edira. I’m not sure you should have come back.”
I rubbed my hand along my neck as I glanced away. “Even if it could help prolong my life? Lead to knowledge that could help save Seville?”
“There’s no proof that using his magic would help. And what if it has the opposite effect? What if it drains you further?” Her words were far from unkind, and I hated how they clenched my heart tight.
I said nothing as I sat with her thoughts. She wasn’t wrong. A threadmender had never accessed Ever magic before. If mending caused my life to shorten, would using Rorik’s powers do the same? And yet our magic together had made it possible to eradicate the blight... mostly eradicate. Plus, if Rorik was sick... I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I didn’t know if Lydia saw all the uncertainty in my eyes, but her shoulders rolled forward, and she smiled gently, privy to some secret I didn’t yet know. Another question for me to discover and answer.
“Well,” she murmured, “I’ll help you however I can. Good night, Edira.”
“Good night.” I watched her go as I lingered in my chair, eyes transfixed where Rorik had been sitting. He’d rail against me every step of the way, of that I had no doubt. And as much as I hated to admit it, a small part of me knew I wouldn’t be able to do much of anything without his help.
Six
When I left the dining room for the immense hall connecting to the foyer and the winding staircase, I couldn’t help but pause at the room that had once been Orin’s study. The curtains were thrown open, allowing moonlight to pool around a large desk manned by a high-backed chair. Two overstuffed armchairs sat opposite of it, and a handful of books were shelved in the bookcases framing the walls, but all of Orin’s trinkets were gone. The desk was clear of paper, and there was only a single pen resting near the base of a brass tabletop lamp.
When I stepped inside, it flickered to life. My fingers immediately went to the Fernglove tattoo marking my inner forearm. The estate still recognized me, it seemed. This whole house was magicked to respond to the needs of any member of Fernglove. I used to hate the crest, but I’d grown fond of the riotous hues of the insects, the sharpened edge of the broken blade, and the ashy petals of flowers tumbling around it toward my wrist. I also loved the magic it afforded me in a place like this.
“Not tired?” an amused voice asked, and I jumped in place. Whirling toward the door, I found Rorik leaning against the frame, one ankle crossed over the other. My heart hammered haphazardly against my rib cage, and I immediately wished for Ywena. She was nowhere to be found on Rorik’s person, and I wondered if she was floating above the estate enjoying the sight of her former home. She used to shock me when my breathing turned erratic, and while the unpleasant jolt did cause me to wince, it was also a wonderful reminder to keep my emotions in check. Especially in the presence of an Ever.
I glowered at Rorik. “Did you have to startle me?”
He snorted. “If that startled you, then I failed tremendously at training you.” He pushed off from the doorframe then and slid into one of the armchairs.
“How that must vex you, knowing you failed so spectacularly.” A glimmer of joy sparked in my chest. Banter I could handle. I expected him to shut it down entirely after his icy demeanor at dinner, but he surprised me with a smirk.
“You have no idea.” Heat flickered through his gaze. “What are you doing here?”
My fingers twitched. “I already told you, I’m here—”
He waved me off. “I know that. I still think it’s asinine, but I meant why are you in my study?”
“Your study?” I raised an incredulous brow as I sank into the seat beside him, crossing one leg over the other.
“I am the head of the estate now. This is where I come to do head-of-the-estatethings.” His words were flippant, punctuated by an exasperated wave of his hand, and he leaned back in his chair. “Someone has to keep the peace.”
“Is that why Ossanna was here?” I kept my voice neutral. Still, he tilted his chin toward me as one brow inched slightly higher.
“Ossanna has always been good at protecting her own. She won’t leave any stone unturned if it means Flix and Issa will have security in the event that something happens to her.” Rorik didn’t move as he studied me.
“And I suppose you’re that stone now. Has she turned you in her direction?” I feigned aloofness as best I could, refusing to meet his gaze and instead picking at my cuticles to keep my hands busy.
“Perhaps. I find it best to keep myself informed about her intentions. The last thing I want is to be surprised like I was with the Starglens.”
I grimaced. “I doubt Ossanna would try anything like that, given what happened to Dagas.”
“Me, too.” Rorik glanced at his fingers, as if reliving the moment he’d ended Dagas’s life. “But Ossanna knows you rid us of blight. She’ll stay in our good graces if there’s a chance we might share how you managed such a feat with her.”
“I wouldn’t dream of threadmending another Ever family.” Of course, the Waterstones were still infected with blight. All Evers were. I’d managed to cure only the Ferngloves, and even now that was questionable. I looked toward the window, knowing that Waterstone Manor was somewhere beyond the horizon. While I’d never set foot on Ossanna’s lands, without the ley lines it would take several days by carriage just to glimpse her estate.
Rorik studied me for a long moment, and then a dangerous grin tugged at his lips. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
