Chapter 30
It wasn’t some ancient ancestor who had been touched by the blackmist—it was Viri. Her parents were the husband and wife in the story. They’d used their friend’s magewish to have the Guardian bring her back from death, which meant—
“The obelisk,” Viri gasped. “That’s why it reacted the way it did. Because—Because—”
“Because your magic is different,” Braedan confirmed quietly.
“The blackmist stole all your natural ellixen, so the Guardian had to fill you with more, binding you to the raw magic of the isle—something powerful, but also volatile.” His face turned sad.
“When you tried to Impart, instead of the obelisk absorbing your ellixen, it did the opposite, turning your magic against you and flooding you with its own, pulled directly from the wards, which sent you straight toward a self-combusting burnout. Everything was amplified, your connection to the obelisk opening an unstoppable river of ellixen flowing into you, but also out of you. That’s what—” He broke off, but Viri didn’t need him to finish.
“That’s what killed Mom and Dad,” she choked out.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Braedan said quickly, hearing the pain in her voice. He stepped closer. “No one knew the obelisk would respond that way. It’s a miracle it didn’t kill you, too.”
“Because Reeve saved me,” Viri said in wonder. But then she realized, “I still died, though, didn’t I? That was the only way he could break the connection between me and the obelisk—by siphoning all my magic.”
Braedan shifted on his feet, looking uncomfortable. “Don’t be mad at him.”
“Mad?” Viri repeated incredulously. “He saved my life. I just don’t understand how.”
“I don’t fully, either,” Braedan said, though he didn’t meet her eyes.
“Every guess I have comes back to the strangeness of your magic, with the normal rules of siphoning not applying to you.” She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but he distracted her by flicking the end of her braid and sharing, “Before the magewish—the first one, when you were a babe—you didn’t have any silver streaks.
The little hair you had was like Mom’s, like mine, but it changed after what the Guardian did. And when Reeve siphoned from you—”
“His veins turned silver, not black,” Viri whispered. “And even those faded much faster than they should have.” As if the magic had refused to be claimed by another and had fled his body near-instantly.
“Again, I think it has something to do with the uniqueness of your ellixen—which is also why I assume he never felt the same hunger for it that all reapers do. Your magic is too different.”
“Was,” Viri said. “Past tense. My magic is gone—I Imparted it, but even if that didn’t go as planned, Reeve took the rest from me.”
“And yet, you’re standing here, which means you must have some ellixen in you,” Braedan pointed out. “You also just admitted that you saw Reeve’s veins change color, and that’s something only hunters, reapers, and mages can see.”
Viri jolted. She’d already known about hunters and reapers, but—
“Mages can see reaper veins?”
Braedan nodded. “Or anyone with comparable levels of ellixen, which is what I think you must have.” Before she could object, he went on, “I’ve had a lot of time to consider this, and everything circles back to you being connected to the magic of the isle, since my guess is, you’re still able to tap into that power, consciously or unconsciously.
That’s what flows in you now, keeping you alive, while also keeping you from burning out. ”
Viri stared at him. “I think I would know if I could ‘tap into’ a magic source like that.”
Braedan tilted his head to the side, rousting a glowmoth from his hair. “When we were kids, you always felt ellixen more strongly than others. You hid it well, but I could tell. Has that changed?”
“No,” she admitted reluctantly. “I’m still sensitive to it.” Even more so than when she was younger.
Braedan looked troubled. “I was afraid you’d say that.
” He scrubbed a hand over his face, then explained, “I told you before that I think the Reaper Lord wants you for your magic. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
And if I’m right about all this, if you really are able to access the raw magic of the isle…
” He visibly shuddered. “Elders know what he might want to use that for. Use you for.”
A chill snaked down Viri’s spine. She wished Wynter were here, not just for comfort, but because her friend—who was supposedly a mage and could therefore see reapers—would dive straight into researching Viri’s hypothetical magic.
If they knew why the Reaper Lord wanted it, then they could figure out how to keep him from using her.
…Assuming she was even alive beyond the next two days. His intentions for her wouldn’t matter if he succeeded in destroying the obelisks, since her chances of surviving after that would diminish by the second.
“Who is the Reaper Lord?” Viri asked, still struggling to believe she possessed some mysterious power that appealed to him.
She wasn’t like Reeve—she couldn’t perform magic with a wave of her hand.
All she had was a heightened sensitivity to ellixen, with the closest she’d come to using it being when she’d located the warded chest in the Summit storage room. It was hardly an awe-inspiring skill.
“No idea.” Braedan shook his head. “In seven years, I’ve never met anyone who has seen beyond the shadows hiding his features. He could be a wraith, for all I know.”
Viri shivered as she recalled the one she and Reeve had encountered in the forest, her memories of the Reaper Lord making her confident that he, at least, was flesh and blood.
“I hate this,” Braedan croaked out suddenly, covering his face with his hands. “I hate that I did this to you. I hate that you’re in danger because of me. I hate that Mom and Dad died because of me. That you died twice because of me. I hate that Reeve suffered—”
“Brae—stop.” Viri’s heart clenched as she pulled his hands away to reveal his guilt-ravaged expression. “What are you talking about? None of those things are your fault.”
“You’re wrong—everything is my fault,” he cried, tears lining his eyes.
“You crawled into the blackmist because of me. I promised I’d watch you, and I didn’t.
Everything that’s happened since then was because I failed you.
The magewish, your magic, the obelisk reacting, Mom and Dad dying, the Reaper Lord wanting you—everything. ”
Tears welled in Viri’s own eyes at the devastation she saw in her brother’s features, making her realize this was something that had haunted him for seven years. Longer, even.
“Brae, listen to me.” She tightened her grip, forcing him to meet her eyes. “You were four years old. There’s no one in the world who would blame you for not noticing me crawl away.”
“But I—”
“No.” Viri’s voice was unyielding. “You told me I’m not responsible for what happened to Mom and Dad, so hear me when I say the same is true for you.
You were barely old enough to read, let alone babysit.
You need to stop carrying guilt that doesn’t belong to you.
If anything—” She inhaled deeply, then made herself continue, “If anything, the fault lies with Mom and Dad. Not just for leaving you to watch me, but for knowing what they did about me and still wanting me to Impart early. Even the Reaper Lord said they knew better than to meddle with magic they didn’t understand, and he was right. We both know he was.”
Braedan looked down, refusing to accept her words.
“Please, Brae,” Viri whispered. “You once told me Mom and Dad would want me to be happy—don’t you think they’d want the same for you? You’ve suffered enough in the last seven years. It’s time to let this go.” She squeezed his hands and begged, “If you can’t do it for you, then do it for me.”
A ragged breath left him. Then another. Finally, he looked up again, his voice rough as he said, “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask.” She offered him a small, encouraging smile. “And I’ll be here to remind you whenever you need it, because I’m not forgetting anything this time, and you’re not leaving me again.”
His eyes were still sad, but they were lighter than before, like a weight had been lifted, bringing a sense of healing, of hope. That light deepened when his lips tipped upward the slightest fraction and he said, “I know you meant for that to be reassuring, but it sounded more like a threat.”
Viri’s smile grew. “Then maybe you should take it as one.” With a pointed look, she said, “No more self-sacrificial rubbish. I’m not ten years old anymore. Whatever comes next, we face it together. Agreed?”
He hesitated, but at the tightening of her fingers, he gave in. “Agreed.”
“Good,” she said. “Now, can I finally hug you without either of us bursting into tears?”
His eyes lightened even more, a familiar spark of mischief touching them, something that made her heart give a pang of grief for how much she’d missed it, how much time they’d lost. But they were back together now, and that was what she would focus on.
“You can hug me,” he said, “but I can’t promise about the tears. We both know how dramatic you can be.”
Viri scrunched her nose but didn’t deny it, just threw her arms around him for the first time in seven long, painful years.
Sure enough, tears leaked from her eyes, but she sniffed them back and held him tighter, only letting go when he made a wheezing joke about needing to breathe.
That more than anything told her he was going to be all right. They both were.
“On the topic of hugs…” Braedan said after she stepped back again, his voice turning unexpectedly teasing, which only strengthened Viri’s relief. “You and Reeve seemed pretty cozy earlier. Anything you want to share?”
Her relief vanished instantly, replaced by a blushing scowl. “Definitely not.”
“Are you sure? Because it looked like—”
“It looked like ‘mind your own business,’ ” Viri stated firmly.
Braedan chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. But next time, get a room. I do not need to see my best friend and my sister—”
“Don’t even think about finishing that thought,” Viri warned, her blush deepening.
Braedan grinned broadly enough to show his dimple, something she’d never imagined she’d see again. But then he sighed, his playfulness fading as he said, “We should go find him and come up with a plan. We might not be able to kill the Reaper Lord, but we sure as hell need to stop him.”
Viri wholeheartedly agreed, but the castle was huge, and it could take a while to hunt Reeve down—time she could use to get the last of her questions answered. “You get him, then meet me up in the Guardian’s tower.”
Braedan understood immediately. “Do you want us to delay—”
“No,” Viri said. “We’ve lost enough time already. Find him, then head straight there.”
Braedan nodded, his humor reappearing as he said, “Don’t get turned into a frog. I doubt even Reeve would kiss you then.”
Viri blanched. “Is that possible?”
Braedan scratched his jaw. “I mean, I guess it depends on how much he likes y—”
“No, the frog,” Viri gritted out.
Her brother laughed and threw his arm over her shoulders, guiding her across the glowing courtyard to the tower she’d sprinted out of what felt like years ago.
What he didn’t do was answer, but she shook off her unease as they parted ways, Brae heading in the direction Reeve had gone, while Viri retraced her steps through the double-arched doors all the way back up to Nevarnost Tower.
Part of her wanted to stop and admire the blue, silver, and gold castle furnishings this time, but she told herself she could come back again when everyone she loved wasn’t in danger.
Another part of her—a very large part—wanted to duck into one of the many cozy-looking sitting rooms and take a minute to process everything she’d learned that night.
Her head and her heart felt ravaged, and she desperately longed for a moment of peace to try and come to terms with her emotions.
But with the comet nearly upon them, it had to take priority over all else.
So she barricaded her feelings behind her mental wall and strode purposefully along the gilded hallways, climbing up the steep, spiraling staircases until she reached the Guardian’s circular stone room.
For some reason, she wasn’t at all surprised to find him in the same armchair before the green-flamed fireplace, a smile touching his lips as he caught sight of her.
“Welcome back, Viridia,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”