Chapter Twenty-Eight
Twenty-eight
Istared at her. “What?”
“You were born in a village beyond Mount Cennet. You had Aetheric abilities, and that placed you in danger. Carethians admired the Luminae, and the Emperor Eternal is a jealous man.”
“The curate,” I said. “The cataloging.”
She nodded. “The seal was placed to hide your magic and protect you from all of that.”
“By who?”
“Me and other Guardians who assisted.”
“Are there more like me? Who’d been children at the time but with magic locked away?”
She shook her head. “The seal had never been tried before. And then the Aetheric god disappeared…”
“Did my parents have Aetheric skills?”
“No.”
“You know I didn’t remember my mother. I only remembered a bit of my father before he died, when we were stealing. But now I see a place in my dreams—my home, I think. I see my mother’s bloody death. I see my father dragging me away. Is that what happened?”
She looked sad, put a hand on mine. The warmth sank through like a bit of Aether, and it helped. “I was not there when it happened. But from what your father told me, yes. Those images are accurate. Your mother was killed. Your father took you away.”
“You found me and Wren, protected us, because of this?”
She nodded. “Your father did me a kindness. Helped me find a loved one after my death, ensure that he was taken care of. In return, I helped the one he loved.”
My heart pounded hard. “And you didn’t want to tell me the truth about this?”
“The seal had effects we did not anticipate. Its magic extended beyond you, so even my ability to speak of the past was limited. But now that the seal has fractured…”
I nodded and instinctively rubbed my chest, trying to sort my tangled feelings.
“They loved you very much.”
“We had no coins, Luna. No hope. Stealing crumbs so we’d have something to eat, and not even a memory of her to help me through. Years of servitude to a woman who’d have happily killed me for convenience. Should I be thankful for that?”
“You are alive,” Luna said, each word signed with hard, fierce movements. “So many others are not.”
“I’m grateful to be alive. But there’s still a cost.”
“Nothing is free. Everything in life requires payment. It is only that sometimes we are not the ones who pay it.”
“You placed the seal—is that why you’re the only Aetheric thing that doesn’t hurt me?”
“I suspect so.”
“Can you remove it? Take it away?”
“I have not been able to do so, but I believe the Aetheric practitioner fractured the magic the night he took you.”
“It felt like that,” I confirmed. “And when I opened the doorway for you the first time, you, what, smoothed the edges of that fracture?”
“Essentially, yes. It is not whole, but the pieces remain.”
The ember must have been the root of my Aetheric power, and the pain the lingering remnant of the seal.
“I can see Anima and the Aetheric, open a doorway into the Aetheric. Travel there and serve as a conduit to siphon Aether back to the realm.” I paused.
“When we went to Vhrania, when the prince was in danger, I called your name and you appeared. You said you’d been checking on me, but you were still looking for the practitioner and the Aetheric god. You also appeared in the market.”
“It is a gift of Luminae to communicate with and summon Anima. You were terrified, you called, and I appeared.”
I didn’t like that. “I’m sorry. That’s a violation of your freedom. I’m sorry,” I said again, because I didn’t know what else to say.
“You did not compel me,” she said with a small smile. “You may one day be able to, but not yet. You…requested I appear, and I appeared when I was able to do so.”
“Then, thank you.”
If she was bothered by the possibility, she didn’t look it. “The value of a Luminae is not in her power, but her empathy, her understanding of when to employ her skills.”
I knew she meant to comfort me, and I nodded.
I walked to the window, where there was nothing but darkness now. Darkness and stars and the torches lit along the path outside. “What will happen when the seal is gone?”
“You will have greater access to the Aetheric and the powers of Luminae. You’ll have to learn to wield it, to use those powers. And you’ll be in greater danger.”
Not just me, but everyone who could be used against me.
“When the seal is fully removed, will my memories return?” I raised a fist to my temple. “Are they in here? Locked away?”
“I don’t know. Our intentions were good,” she added.
I could see the guilt in her eyes. “I know.”
She jerked back her hand, and her eyes suddenly widened. “I am sorry. But I must go.”
“Practitioner?”
“God,” she said, and looked at me. “Things will move quickly now. Stay wary, Fox.”
And she disappeared.
Leaving the palace, going to the market, coming back to the palace, talking to Luna. None of it had brought me the peace of mind I’d wanted. Peace of mind I needed now more than ever.
So I cleaned up, changed into untorn clothing, and left my room. I checked on Wren and found her asleep, Galen keeping watch in the corner, and then I made my way to the prince’s rooms.
Every time I tried to get away from him—to stay away from him—I kept returning. He had become a touchstone. A necessity. And that was terrifying.
I walked down the corridor, rounded a corner, and nearly ran into him. He hadn’t changed from the clothes he wore in the market, now roughed up from the fight. His hair was loose around his face, and he looked tired. But he seemed to brighten when he saw me. “Where are you going, Little Fox?”
“To your rooms.”
“Are you, now?” His voice was soft, alluring.
“I wanted to ask how things were in the market. The others who were possessed.”
“All alive, and Wren’s balm has been distributed. We’ve paid the apothecary to make more, and soldiers are helping tend to the wounded.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, and the relief felt like a balm. I’d needed the reminder that kindness and empathy existed, even when it felt like so many people feasted on the misery of others.
“The garrison, under Yue’s leadership, is increasing security in all the markets. They’ll get word to the palace if he’s spotted again. In the meantime, I’d prefer you stay inside.”
I nodded. “Wren is here.” It wasn’t an agreement to stay, but an acknowledgment that I had no plans to be anywhere else.
And he guessed my game. “Clever Little Fox.”
The ruffling of expensive fabric echoed down the hallway. “Catalaya,” I said.
Her injury apparently healed, she hurried down the hallway toward us, fear in her face and skirts in hand. Her maid and two guards followed behind.
She reached us and put a hand on the prince’s. “I’ve only just learned what happened. Are you all right?”
“Fine. I wasn’t injured.”
“And the rebel?”
“The Aetheric practitioner,” the prince clarified. “A man who can wield the Aetheric and has decided to use that power against others.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, she looked deeply saddened. “I’d hoped we could finally live in peace.”
“The world is never truly at peace, and tonight’s no different. You should go back to your room. Bolt the door, and stay there, just in case.”
“Just in case?” Catalaya asked.
“Just in case he tries to breach the wall. I don’t think it’s likely, but it’s better to be safe. We want to give him as few targets as possible.”
That was nonsense; he didn’t have his army yet, which was why he kept sneaking around, attacking civilians. The prince wanted her out of the way.
“I see.” She looked at me expectantly, apparently waiting for me to leave first.
“Fox and I have matters to discuss,” he said. “I need to get a full report of the night’s events so I can advise my father. We’re just waiting on Galen; Wren was injured in the attack.”
“How unfortunate.” Catalaya took a haggard breath.
“I’ll do as you say, of course. If there’s work to be done—making bandages, preparing salves—I can help.
I’ve done it in the Edgelands. Many times,” she added.
There was a grimness in her tone that I thought might have been the only honest emotion she’d shown.
Not, I think, because someone had put her to work, but because war or fighting had required it.
“Thank you, Caty.” He shifted his gaze to her guards. “Take care of her.”
“Your Highness,” they said, and the entourage disappeared into the depths of the palace.
Two of his guards stood outside his rooms.
“Gentlemen,” the prince said to them, then pushed open the door with a soft complaint from the hinge.
I followed him inside, and he closed the heavy door again.
There was no fire, but dozens of candles spilled pretty light across his sitting room, and a high window opened to allow in a breeze.
I went to the bench near the empty hearth and sat down.
I felt suddenly weighed down by all of it, as if the fear and magic and fury had put iron in my bones.
The prince moved to a small cabinet and brought me a cup. “Drink this. It will take some of the chill off.”
I took the cup and downed it. It burned like fire but left me feeling a little bit boneless. That was a relief.
“Thank you for not asking if it was poisoned.” He took the cup back. “If you’re still unsettled, you can scream a bit before Galen comes back. Or…” He looked around, then settled his gaze on the cup again and held it up. “You can break this.”
“Are you muddled? I could get good coins for that.”
“So you are still in there. Good. I was worried.” He put the cup down, came to the bench, and crouched in front of me. I could smell leather and woodsy soap. “You talked to Luna?”
I nodded.
“Do you want to tell me about it? About what you can do?”
I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him nothing. I wanted to lock the knowledge away where no one could find it. Never be noticed.
But I had to tell him some of it, because word would spread about the girl who could see ghosts…and more.
“From what I understand, from what Luna told me tonight, a magical seal was placed on me after my mother died—ten years ago—to protect me.”
“To protect you?”
I explained the circumstances of the seal but didn’t tell him that she believed I was the Luminae.
If I told him, and the Emperor Eternal learned of my identity and that the prince had prior knowledge, Nik would be in mortal danger, father or not.
Once again, plausible deniability seemed the safer bet.
There was devastation in his eyes. “Fox, I swear on my life, I didn’t know anything about this violence. Nothing.” He paused. “Is this why you don’t remember anything?”
I nodded. “I may not get my memories back.”
He nodded, watched me for a moment. If he believed I was holding back, he didn’t say so.
Which was more than I would have done. “Whatever you are, whatever magic you have, I will protect you as best I can. But be careful of Luna, Fox. I’ve only ever seen her be loyal to you.
But she’s from a different place, and her goals may be different than yours. ”
“She and Wren say the same thing about you.”
“Good. You’re right to be wary of royals.”
And yet this royal had offered to protect me, even if that protection was contrary to his father’s desires. I didn’t know how to feel safe and vulnerable at the same time.
Maybe sensing I needed a moment, he rose, walked to the cupboard, and took a drink directly from the bottle. He exhaled through pursed lips. “I’ve never been able to decide if ergaine is good or not.”
“It’s powerful.”
“That it is.” He held up the jar. “More?”
“Gods, no.”
He closed it and moved back to me, hands on his hips. “Now, Little Fox, you have to tell me the truth about something that’s been bothering me for several hours: How in Oblivion did you get out of the palace without anyone noticing?”
I smiled, as he probably meant me to. “Wine merchant’s cart. I waited until it was dark enough, snuck into the back, hid under some fabric.”
“And rolled on through.”
I nodded.
“I said you weren’t a prisoner.”
“Would someone have followed me?”
“Naturally.”
“I didn’t want to be followed. I know I shouldn’t have gone out. If I hadn’t, Wren wouldn’t be wounded and unconscious.”
He shook his head. “No, Fox. Possession is a violation, and I don’t want to minimize what happened to her.
But the attack would have happened whether you were there or not; he wasn’t there for you, or not directly.
He would have hurt more people, and those people might not be as strong as Wren.
But because you were there, you helped stop the attack.
And you saved lives. You and Wren and Luna. ”
I just nodded.
“What do you need?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
But I did know. And what I wanted, I couldn’t have.
“Let me try to guess.” He held out a hand, and when I took it and rose, he wrapped his arms around me. “Maybe to be held. To feel safe.”
I nodded, squeezed my eyes shut, and gripped the back of his shirt like a lifeline. He held me there until some of the exhaustion and worry had seeped out of me, replaced by contentedness.
He tipped up my chin with a fingertip.
“Better?”
“Better.” I stretched up and pressed my mouth to his. I meant only to thank him, to feel him, but the kiss deepened and evolved, became hungrier and more demanding, like we both needed to assure ourselves that we were alive.
That we were together.
He twined his hands through my hair, hungry and lavish, needing and offering. He drew me against him, close enough that I could feel the hard muscle beneath his tunic and the breadth of his arousal. I wanted more. I wanted everything, and the consequences be damned.
And once again, he was the one who drew away.
“As much,” he said, his forehead against mine, “as I would like to give you more pleasure, you’re exhausted, and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”
I wanted more pleasure, and I didn’t feel taken advantage of. But I was exhausted.
“You can sleep here, if you don’t want to be alone. And you can take the bed,” he added at my raised brows. “Soldiers are accustomed to sleeping on floors.”
Or not sleeping at all. As much as I wanted it to be easy like that—that I might just stay the night—I knew that was impossible. “Catalaya would cause trouble.”
“I can handle her.”
“I don’t doubt your motivations. I know you’re one of the good ones. But the system doesn’t like good ones.”
“No, it doesn’t. But thank you for saying that.” He kissed the inside of my palm as he looked at me with sapphire eyes, and I thought he might be a storybook prince after all.