Authors: Kate Sparkes
“But you’ve lost yourself,” I finished. “And the greatest love in the world can’t fix that.”
She nodded. “I want him. I love him. But I can’t be the person he deserves if I’m not whole. I’ve never felt this empty, not even when I stood next to the Despair. It’s like I’m cut off from everything. I’m going through the motions of being alive, but I’m no better off than one of the bodies that Aren raised to storm the gates.”
“The what?”
She smiled, but there was no heart in it. “You should have seen it. Another thing I’ll tell you all about when you’re ready.” The smile faded. “So yes, I want my magic back, more than I can say. But if it means losing Aren, I don’t know if I can take that, either. He’s everything I—well, everything I never wanted but didn’t know I needed, I suppose. How can I turn my back on that?”
A few weeks before, I would have thought less of her for her indecision, for not grabbing at the incredible power she could so easily possess. But as I lay there in the soft infirmary bed, wishing I could go back in time and do whatever it took for me to be with Kel, I couldn’t. I’d have sacrificed everything I had and was for one more day with him. Would have given up my gifts and potential renown for a little house by the sea. It shamed me, but it was the truth. I could hardly expect more from her.
“I understand,” I said, and she reached out to squeeze my fingers.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked as Morea entered the room.
“No, thank you.”
She nodded, and left.
I rolled onto my side and winced at the pain that shot through me. Morea left a cup on the table beside the bed and followed Rowan out. I sat up enough to drink, then rested my head on the pillow. The pain lessened, and I drifted. In that half-dreaming place between sleep and wakefulness I felt a warm body lying behind me, his shape molded to mine, arm draped over my waist.
A whisper came to me again, the soft crashing of waves, and I let myself be swept away.
50
AREN
“
M
ake it quick,” Ulric ordered as he stalked out of the large audience chamber.
The gallery was packed with spectators, as it had been for every day of trials all week. The king didn’t so much as look at them, or at the thin, unremarkable prisoner the guards dragged out of the room.
“Aren!” Dan called, and the crowd fell silent. The guards paused, but didn’t let him look back. “You know what he was like! You know how he forced you!”
I turned away and followed my father out of the room.
Dan wasn’t wrong. Had things gone differently, I would have been in his position. Though our magic granted us a measure of protection from his influence, I had allowed Severn to use me just as Dan had. Though I’d had no part in the plot to bring Ulric down, I’d done my share to support my oldest brother. Yes, I felt some sympathy for Dan, and I understood that he thought he’d had no choice. I’d thought the same, once.
But we all have a choice. The course of my life was not predestined, nor was Dan’s. Fate or the gods may have played a role, but in the end the consequences were ours to bear. Dan would lose his head for betraying Ulric.
And I would lose my freedom for obeying him.
Ulric went to the basin in the corner of the small, wood-paneled office behind the audience chamber and splashed water on his face.
“Not an easy one,” I said, and sank into a leather-upholstered chair.
“Sentencing one’s child to death never is, I suspect.” He took a seat next to me. “You’ve done well this week.”
“As have you.” His recovery had been remarkable. In the six days since Nox had awoken, she’d shared her time between sleep and her potions. Ulric had been her first challenge, and she’d barely paused to eat while she worked. And she’d done it. He was as healthy as I’d ever seen him, appearing younger and stronger than he had before his capture. The air around him vibrated with power that he was able to use without any consequences.
There are always consequences,
a voice whispered. I smiled. I couldn’t tell whose voice it sounded most like anymore, Phelun’s or my grandfather’s or the mer elders. The voice was right. Rowan and I had both learned something about those consequences during the battle for the throne.
As of yet, only one of us had recovered. Morea had returned home, but Nox had taken over fussing over me, not satisfied until the last of the ill-effects of my work with the dead were gone. The other effects of that—the people’s knowledge of what I’d done, the rumors and the judgements—would linger far longer, but they were hardly her business.
“Did you speak to Nox this morning?” I asked.
He snorted. “I did. She accepted the position as head Potioner, but on a temporary basis. Then she told all of the others they were free to go home. Most went, and she sent them with enough compensation to keep them and their villages happy for a good while.”
“Were you angry?”
He smiled and leaned back in his chair. “No. In spite of my many mistakes, I think two of my children turned out just fine. How’s the dragon today?”
“Well, I think. Recovering, and not complaining too much about not being allowed more soldiers to eat. You’d have to ask Rowan, though. She’s been taking care of the animals.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “And what of her? Is she adjusting well to her new situation?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “She’s trying. She’s suffered as great a loss as any of us, and I think it’s changed her. Whether that’s permanent, I can’t say.” I didn’t mention Nox’s idea. Ulric seemed to accept that Rowan was no longer a threat, and didn’t object to us being together in what little time we had available. If her magic returned, that would all change.
No need to tell him, especially if it might not work.
“She made a great sacrifice,” he said. “I won’t forget it.”
We’ll see.
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”
He stood and moved to the big desk by the window. “Who’s next?”
It took me a moment to realize he’d gone back to work. “That’s all for today. I’ve spoken to a few more witnesses regarding Hamel Darsin, so we’ll be seeing him tomorrow. He says he didn’t betray you, that if he’d known you were alive he would have supported your return.”
“Do you believe him?”
“He believes it, I’m sure. And no one has indicated otherwise.” Not even those without magic who knew him, his servants and family—and I’d know if they’d lied to me. “I’d keep an eye on him, but he’s not a threat to you now that you’re back in power.” Like most of them. Ulric was accepting oaths of renewed loyalty from anyone who had thought him dead when they supported Severn. Things weren’t going so well for anyone I found had known otherwise.
“Very good,” he said. “Are you doing more questioning tonight?”
“No. As a matter of fact, I need to leave after supper. With your permission, of course.”
He narrowed his eyes, though without any of the suspicion or anger he’d have shown even a week before. “Going somewhere with Rowan?”
“Sort of. Will you be working?”
“All night.”
He waved me off, then turned his attention to the papers that littered his desk—the ones we’d recovered from Severn’s room which listed every bit of evidence against Darmid, as well as the names of people who had supported him in his quest for answers and power. Ulric had been over all the information a hundred times already, and had to have known it all by heart.
I closed the door gently behind me. It seemed there was so much still to be said, so many questions I wanted to ask him about his past and my future, about my mother and Severn and everything I’d taken for granted for so many years.
But all of that would wait. Other, more important things needed my attention.
At twilight that evening a small group left the city and crossed the plain, headed for the forest beyond. Florizel and Murad walked with us, but weren’t asked to carry anyone. Their work was done. Her wound was healing, as was his mind. They’d been inseparable since their reunion, and had spent their time enjoying their freedom, soaring together over the forests and the ocean, sleeping beneath the stars outside the city walls, avoiding the palace and the turmoil of the city.
I envied them that freedom. Overseeing the proper burial of the bodies I’d raised and those who had fallen after hadn’t been pleasant, but I’d owed them that. Investigation into upcoming trials had followed, and would be my unpleasant—if interesting—duty for some time to come. I suspected that as soon as the trials were finished, I’d be required to make amends with the wealthy nobles whose support my father still needed. They’d fared well under Severn, and we had destroyed many of their homes in our attempt to save the rest of the world from him.
If I was ever to gain the favor of my father’s people, I had a lot of work ahead of me.
For tonight, though, I was as free as I suspected I would ever be.
Rowan rode beside me on Clover, a horse she’d been forced to abandon on our first journey away from Darmid. She’d been pleased to find the piebald mare safe in the stables, no doubt taken from the cabin on the lake by one of Severn’s men.
We’d abandoned her when Kel warned us of Severn’s approach and went against his elders’ wishes to take us to the safety of the Grotto. My stomach clenched at the memory. Dangerous times, but I wished I could go back to them, to sit and laugh with him again. That wound had not yet closed, and a part of me hoped it never would. I didn’t want to forget.
Rowan’s aunt Victoria came next, passing the time in quiet conversation with Patience, who rode beside her on a pretty white pony. Both the girl and the Sorceress were finding it hard to settle in at the palace, and had become close. Victoria was acting as a surrogate mother of sorts to the girl. I suspected that when the family was reunited, Ches would have no objection to the arrangement.
Nox brought up the rear, riding alone on a large, gray gelding.
We left the land-bound horses a good distance away from our destination and reached the clearing on foot as the stars appeared one by one in the darkening sky. The pond Rowan had created remained. A stream flowed from one end of it, tracing a silver path through the woods and down the hill toward Luid. No other sign of the fight with Severn remained save for a fallen tree. To a casual observer it would be nothing but a pretty clearing.
But not to us.
Murad shied as he entered the clearing, perhaps remembering the fight, or the brief moment of clarity he’d been teased with at the end of it. Florizel nuzzled his cheek, and he quieted.
Victoria spoke softly to Nox, who stared at the water, expressionless save for the tightness in her lips and a slight tremble in her chin. Victoria handed her a seedling with its roots wrapped in burlap, then scattered other seeds as Nox chose a spot near a dead oak, close to the water.
A slight breeze rippled the leaves overhead, but the air in the clearing remained still.
Victoria pulled a silver spade from her bag and dug a hole, stirring up the heavy scents of moss and soil. Nox placed the root ball gently into the wide space. Victoria filled the hole in, and both stepped back.
Nox joined us on the other side of the pond. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled my sister closer. She leaned her head against me.
“Ready?” Victoria asked.
Nox nodded, and the garden came to life.
Victoria smiled as her magic flowed. The tiny seedling grew, sending out thorny tendrils that climbed the tree. Soon the barren wood was covered with broad leaves. Blue-green buds appeared and blossomed into massive roses with deep-blue petal edges and glowing, sea-green centers.
Violets, snowdrops, and a dozen varieties of blooms I’d never be able to identify carpeted the ground where Victoria had scattered her seeds, taking root in the thin soil and springing up from among the moss and leaf litter.
Nox sighed. “I wish Kel could see this. He’d have loved it.”
Victoria studied her work. “Do you want me to tame them?”
Nox wiped her eyes with a white handkerchief. “No. He liked things wild. It’s perfect.” She stepped toward the rose-covered tree and rubbed a petal between her thumb and forefinger, then bent to inhale its sweet fragrance. “Thank you, Victoria.”
“My pleasure. Truly.”
Patience interrupted with a flurry of questions about magic and what had just happened, and Victoria led her a short distance away so they could talk. Nox leaned in to rub her face against a rose, and came back to us. She pulled a crystal vial from her bag and handed it to Rowan.
I caught myself holding my breath as Rowan took it.
“It’s not dissimilar to what I made for... to what I made when I first arrived at the palace,” Nox said, “but I tweaked it for you. Made it stronger, taught it to reach deeper to find your spark, and I think I’ve come up with something that will open up the channels for your magic to replenish itself when you send it out. I feel like we might only get one shot at getting this started. That’s why it took so long, but I think this is your best chance.”
Rowan accepted the vial, pulled the stopper, and sniffed. “So it’s really going to work?” She didn’t seem as excited as I’d have expected her to be at the prospect of her magic returning.
“Yes.” Nox tilted her head to one side, contemplating something. “Your tiny flame will be a blazing conflagration again, if that’s what you want.”
Rowan nodded, but didn’t drink.
My stomach tightened. “What’s wrong?” I asked. I suspected that I knew why she was hesitating, but hoped I was wrong.
She wouldn’t.
“We should talk about this, first,” Rowan said. She rolled the vial between her fingers, and the deep pink liquid inside shimmered with gold flecks and twisting purple shadows. “Aren, the thing is, I love you.”
“Likewise.”
“And I want to be with you.” She paused. “Is that still what you want?”
“Of course. With everything in me. But I hope you’re not thinking of making your sacrifice permanent so that can happen.” The idea that she wouldn’t jump at the chance to be healed, that a life with me might mean as much to her as her power, chilled me to my core.