Chapter 23
Delicate Work
“Nyleeria,” an unfamiliar whisper reached into my sleep, softly pulling me back to reality.
I was drooped over the forearm that rested on Tarrin’s bed, my other hand clutching his. Groggy, I peeled myself up and blinked toward the voice, unable to believe my eyes.
“Nyleeria?” he asked.
Realization had me jumping out of my seat. He reacted in turn, but not before I reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders.
“You came,” I rasped, eyes wide.
“Yes, I came.” Myron’s gentle features shifted into a smile, and I almost crumbled with relief.
“Thank you,” I said, griping his shoulders a little tighter.
“You’re welcome,” he said with a dip of his chin. “Now, let’s see what I can do for him, shall we?”
I let him pass, almost bumping into Caius. I wouldn’t have said the room was small by any means, but there were suddenly eight of us, including Tarrin.
It took me a heartbeat to realize I’d counted Fiora as her violet eyes met mine with empathy as deep as their coloring.
“Fiora,” I breathed, stepping up to her.
Instantly she wrapped me in her warmth and held me tight as if giving me permission to let go for just a moment while she held me together.
My body was defenseless against the safety she offered as I was wracked in silent sobs.
She held me for long moments before I calmed enough for her to pull away slightly, leading us to the opposite side of Myron with Tarrin was between us.
My hand slipped into Fiora’s, and I squeezed tight as Myron looked at me like he was waiting for permission to begin. My eyes darted to Tarrin’s ravaged body, then up to Myron’s spring-green eyes. I held them for a moment before steeling my nerves, then nodded once.
Magic filled the room to the delight of my powers, but I couldn’t feel it’s elation as crippling anxiety stole my breath; because what if Myron couldn’t help?
His hands hovered inches above Tarrin’s body as he moved from his head downward with a painstaking calmness, only to pause over certain areas. When he’d reached the abdominal wound we’d stitched closed, the High Lord of Spring’s nose scrunched as if smelling something rancid.
After what felt like an eternity, he stepped back, straightened his back, and threaded his hands together, focus now on me. “Artton told me you’re responsible for the care Tarrin received. Is this true?”
I nodded, unable to form words with my stomach still in my throat.
“You did an excellent job. Truly. You’ve made my job a lot easier.”
Hope slammed into me. “You mean…”
“I will try. It will be slow, very slow. But I will try.”
My knees buckled, and Fiora steadied me. “Here, take a seat, hun.”
Hope. There was hope. Myron made no guarantees, but he hadn’t said no.
I watched as the spring fae placed his hands over Tarrin once more.
He didn’t go from head to toe this time but rather went directly to the place he’d scowled at earlier.
His fingers moved in a dance, as if he was physically inside of Tarrin’s body mending what needed to be healed.
Soft threads of light continued to multiply by the thousands until they settled under Tarrin’s flesh, making his abdomen glow.
Only seconds passed when I sensed Myron’s powers pull away, leaving only the smallest seed of power behind. Then he stepped from the table.
“That’s it?” I asked.
The grave look he leveled me with had me afraid of his next words.
“Yes. I’ll have to keep doing micro sessions like this.
The human body can’t tolerate more than that.
There’s a reason the healing is so slow for their kind—the body and soul need time to reorient themselves from trauma, you see.
If I were to go too fast, he would die. If I go too slow, he will die.
So, it will be a delicate balance—which is why I can’t make any guarantees. ”
I nodded, clinging onto hope so hard that all doubts in Myron’s cautioning tone fell on deaf ears.
Caius stepped a little closer and took Tarrin in before looking to his spring counterpart with what looked like curiosity. “How do you know when to stop? How much power to use?”
“Gut feel. You know when you’re a sapling learning to valen and you almost have to guess how much power to pull to go exactly where you want—sometimes going too far, or too short?”
Caius nodded, a smile born of memory lighting up his features. “Stars, that takes me back. But yes, I remember.”
“Balance,” Myron said simply.
I looked between the two ageless fae. High Lord to High Lord, they were fully at ease with one another and their relaxed demeanors melted a tiny fragment of tension I’d been holding, which was enough for me to finally take a full breath since finding Tarrin enveloped in decay.
“Could I have used my powers to heal him?” Caius asked, drawing my focus back to the conversation.
“Unfortunately, no,” Myron said, shaking his head.
“I have to pull from a very specific place of my power that’s deeply rooted to the Mother.
The part of her that’s also tethered to the life-giving energy she shares with humans.
The knowledge is passed down in my court, but it is a cultivated, practiced, and very delicate skill.
You would have most likely killed him if you tired. ”
Relief seemed to wash through Caius as if a heavy weight had been lifted. He stole a glance in my direction, somehow conveying the guilt he’d felt in saying no to me, at having to weather my pleas while being powerless to help—stars that must have been a foreign feeling for a High Lord.
Feeling the inadequacy of my own magic compared to Myron’s, my mind seemed to silently pass over the mantle of responsibility to him, only for my body to succumb to bone-deep exhaustion.
“Caius,” I said, bringing everyone’s attention to me. “Can you please take me to my residence?”
“Of course,” he said, barely masking his surprise.
I stood on wobbly legs and leaned over to whisper in Tarrin’s ear. “You better be alive when I come back.” Brushing my fingers through his hair one last time, I walked in stride with Caius to the hallway where we could valen me back.
Once we stood at the colorful archway of my residence, Caius silently walked me to the doors, sat me down on the large sofa, poured me a glass of water, and sat in an adjacent chair.
Leaning back, he crossed a leg over his knee, though not in expectation.
No, he was making himself comfortable while letting me know he’d stay as long as I needed.
Numbly, I pulled my legs up underneath me and sank into the sofa, bringing the water to my lips. The sweetness of it tickled my senses, and a half-smile played on my lips.
“The Summer Court has the best water,” I mused.
He smirked as if knowing it too.
I took another gulp, finding the strength to ask the burning question in the room. “How did Myron take the news about me?”
He took a breath. “Not great.”
I raised a brow. “But he came.”
“He would only agree if I told him everything. That’s what took so long.”
“I’m sorry. I know you did it for me, not Tarrin. That you don’t understand why I’d want to save him.”
“I never said that,” he said with a bit of a bite. “I might not understand your bond, but that doesn’t mean I can’t respect you for wanting to save him.”
Putting down the glass, I leaned back again and rubbed my temples. “I’m so tired, Caius. So, so tired.”
“Today was a hard day.”
“It’s not just today.” I shook my head slowly, looking past him to the lake. “Every time I think I’ve found my footing, my world is rocked, and it feels like the cabin all over again.”
His brows furrowed. “I don’t get your meaning.”
Sighing, I said, “After I found my parents’ bodies, I stepped out of the dank cabin into the beautiful spring day, full of light and color.
But I remember thinking that was the dream; like horrors behind me were the truth.
That’s how this feels. Like all the beauty and peace I find are falsehoods, a fantasy.
I’m afraid, Caius… I’m afraid that one day I’ll no longer be able to see the beauty because I’ll never wake up from the nightmares.
The ones that relentlessly hunt me down. It’s exhausting.”
I sighed again and wiped a rogue tear away as I propped my elbow on the high armrest and placed my chin atop it, looking to the summer fae. “I don’t know if that makes sense,” I breathed. “Everything is just so fucked up.”
Caius drummed his thumb on his leg, mulling over what I’d said, and I got lost in the movement.
Eventually he stopped and caught my focus with his.
“I’ve been blessed by the stars to walk Lumnara for over five centuries, Nyleeria.
Recently, I’ve been pondering what draws others to you—what drew me to you since the first moment we met.
But the truth is, I don’t think it has anything to do with the spark; in fact, I suspect that even if you weren’t the spark you would have had the same effect on all of us.
I’d say you’re strong, but I’ve met many who are strong, and it’s not even close to the same.
No, it’s not that.” He shook his head as if dismissing the thought for himself.