Page 184

Through a film of dreams, I’d heard the tail-end of his conversation with Nara and Barberro. I’d heard what Jagaros had said about the exiled ones, and my heart twisted at the thought that we hadn’t managed to save them after all.

Nothing could compete with the anguish on Coen’s face, though. I felt it pulse through our bond, a dark, frenzied welling in his throat as he knelt beside me and molded a calloused hand against my cheek.

“There’s no guarantee you’ll find your catastrophic event, little hurricane. You could just as easily die at that institute.”

“I’m dying anyway.”

Coen flinched as if I’d slapped him in the face. Grabbing the back of his neck, I tugged him closer, fitting my lips against his in a desperate attempt to ease the pain dragging shards down his heart.

He broke away from me to say, “No. Sasha and Sylvie can remove—”

“All my magic? Coen, I can’t lose my innate power. I can’t lose Wild Whispering.” When he inhaled to argue, I cut him off. “We defeated Dyonisia, but the danger isn’t gone. Sooner or later, Mydusia is going to find out that you tricked her. That Jagaros rules this island and that I’m still alive. Do you really want me to be defenseless when that time comes?”

Coen’s eyes drifted shut. His voice flowed into my head.

Of course not, via. But you can’t just put yourself right in her path. Right under her nose. The original Esholian Institute… it’s practically in her backyard.

Exactly. Which means it’s the last place she’d expect me to be. And that’s where your next assignment is, right?

He nodded, lips mashing together, gaze flicking toward the open window where ribbons of sunlight fell to the foot of my bed.

Barberro raised a finger.

“Hello. Hello, yes, over here. Not to take Coen’s side, but how will girl with curly hair attend Esholian Institute without…?” He turned to Nara, snapping his fingers. “Help Barberro out, neh otla.”

Nara sighed and looked me over with warm sympathy. “How could you possibly step foot in Sorronia without detection? If Queen Mydusia knows about your existence, she probably knows what you look like, Rayna. And you have very distinct features. She’s bound to notice if someone who looks exactly like her supposed dead niece waltzes through the doors of her own palace.”

I nodded. I’d been expecting that little hiccup. With a heaping scoop of air, I tunneled down, down, down, dredging up the new magic in my veins.

Change, or stay the same? the magic seemed to whisper.

Change, I told it, and brought forth an altered image of myself.

Like a mask forming over my entire being, new fingernails shot over my nailbeds once more. The brands on both my shoulders and beneath my arm smoothed out, as did the one on the back of my neck. My hair straightened into a glossy waterfall like Lander had once made it, the blonde darkening to a smoky brown the same color as Coen’s eyes. I couldn’t see my own eyes, but I could feel the jade-green morph into an ambiguous hazel.

When I was done, everyone in the room was gaping—except for Coen, whose expression had gone rigid, his attention skating over my new features.

“Fykala neh rootmi,” Barberro whistled.

“Didn’t… didn’t you just get that power yesterday?” Nara asked faintly.

“Yes.” I peeked over her shoulder, finally locking eyes with Jagaros. He’d snapped his mouth shut, emotion quivering in his jaw. We’d been denied a lifetime together, but here we both were, like father like daughter, in altered forms. “It’s almost like it came naturally to me,” I whispered.

At that moment, a flutter of wings came from the open window. I released my Shape Shifting magic, snapping back into my original self as a bright blue cotinga zoomed in and twirled around my bed.

“Oh, not this bird again,” Nara groaned, massaging her temples. “It’s been flying in here every hour.” Behind her, the healer moved forward as if to shoo the cotinga away, but I held up a hand.

“No, it’s okay! It’s just Pedwill.”

Emelle’s favorite bird burst into excited chirp after chirp at the sound of my voice. “Hi! Hi! Hi! Are you awake? Are you?”

I gave a small laugh. “Hi, Pedwill. Yes, I think I’m awake.”

“Oh, good, good, good! Can your friends come in now? Can they?”

Friends. The realization that they were here, waiting for me to wake up, filled me with the same kind of warmth as the sunlight pooling at my feet. With a distinct feeling I’d get in trouble for this, I nodded.

“Of course they can come in.”