Page 92

“It’s the sound their beaks make,” Amethyst said quietly. “The acora, I mean. The sound their beaks make is what freaked me out the first time. The second time, when I slipped off the fallen tree, it was on the other side, and I hadn’t expected it. There were just these bright yellow eyes right in front of me, and I flinched.”

“Their call frightened you?”

She nodded, the column of her throat rippling as she swallowed. “It’s… it’s a hard thing to explain. It sounds like a type of weapon from where I’m from called a gun.”

Nothing translated with the strange word.

“A… gun?” The word felt odd on my tongue, the syllable harsh and unforgiving compared to Nyndrec’s longer ones.

She nodded and then shrugged. “It’s… I don’t know how to explain it.” She pursed her lips and tightened her hold on my arm as we started down the spiral staircase. “Okay, so a crossbow is kind of an automated bow and arrow, right? A gun is like that except instead of an arrow, it shoots a small ball of metal. It shoots it much faster than a crossbow ever could, and the metal is designed to kind of fall apart when it hits a person so it causes more damage.”

The grimace was reflex. The damage a crossbow could create was significant, enough to end a person’s life within minutes. A mechanism that could do even worse? I shuddered to imagine the destruction such a thing could leave in its wake.

“I can understand your reservation, then,” I admitted.

Her lips flicked up for a half-second, and warmth spread under my breastbone.

“My sister said they were a species she recognized. Shoebill storks.”

That had me pausing halfway down the stairs. When I frowned, she only shrugged.

“Being able to Realm Walk hasn’t been possible since the gods and their children returned to Althea,” I explained quietly. “More than a millennia has passed since that period of our history.”

She didn’t balk or shy away from the implication. “What about your history before then? How long did the gods move between there and here? Experts in my world believed it had existed for a very, very long time, and some of the oldest religions talk about there being other worlds. Perhaps there were some who walked between them, too, in addition to this Althea place.”

The thought had merit, and it lessened some of the unease. If there were more worlds and realms out there, why would the gods limit themselves to only Avicourt?

“Now my curiosity is piqued about what we have in common,” I admitted, starting down the stairs again. “You mentioned apples, but Heath said you didn’t know what limellos were.”

She scrunched her nose before she sighed. “No, we don’t have those. They look and taste like grapes but are much, much larger. I guess we can add food to the growing list of things I need to learn.”

I covered her hand with my own as we navigated the last stair and then let my touch drop entirely. I wouldn’t be opposed to continuing the contact, especially given how she’d leaned into me, scenting me entirely on instinct, but that hesitation to touch was still there in the way she stood and interacted with me—and everyone else. As much as I was able, I’d allow her to dictate the speed at which this dynamic between us developed. She’d given up everything, including her own world, and while that was to be expected of any omega participating in the Grand Rite, we’d already established she was different. The least I could do was give her the space to acclimate and gain her footing.

So, instead of reaching for her hand or tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, I clasped my hands behind me and focused on the garden.

The feast was already well underway even without the food being served. Amaria stood with Tabitha and Elise near the fountain in the center of the garden. Shelby and Vincent came from the large ballroom with James, their heads close together as they discussed something. They left the doors opened to the garden, the warm light of the sconces inside the room and mounted to the columns adding to the fire jars carefully arranged throughout the garden to illuminate the space as the sun slowly set. One of the guard who traditionally traveled with the Rite participants set a casual hand on the edge of the fountain’s basin. A moment later, water fell from the subtle spout carved into the tree beside the statue of Siriena.

Amethyst sucked in a breath. “He just…”

“Yes. The Nesúmian are blessed with extraordinary water magic.”

She turned her gaze to me, her eyes still wide with shock or awe. “Fire and water. I imagine some have earth magic, then? And air? Like we’re in Classical Greece and believe the world is made of only those four elements?”

Classical… Greece? That must be something from her Arizona that had no translation here. I didn’t ask about it.

“It’s not quite that simple. There are things specific to each race, but most who have magic can harness it in many different ways. Most have traditions that shape how we learn the magic and the ways we use it. The Sylvoria,” I gestured to Reuben where he spoke with Hugh, “often focus their magic on the living, like plants. The fire magic has more to do with how far north our kingdom is and the need for warmth in the long winter months.”

She pursed her lips. “Is the weather thing specific to Vincent?”

“To the Drulea, yes.” I gestured to Hugh this time, so she would know he was also Drulean. “The Drulea and Sylvoria have lived in the north here for a millennia. Longer, probably, though most of the histories from before the Great Exodus are lost or deeply guarded. Most of the court here is made of those. Or those with no magic at all, like Phoebe and Monique.”

“Phoebe has magic,” Amethyst said.

I shook my head. “She has been taught and trained extensively as a mage. They are not the same. She has no latent, inherent magic. She has learned how to harness the world’s magic with spells.”

There was a beat of silence where Amethyst’s eyes got even wider.

“Damn, I really need a reference book,” she muttered.