25. The source
The source
E verything that had felt so right to Isolde just minutes before was now wrong, twisted, ugly. Felix’s words echoed relentlessly in her mind, alongside the memory of his arms around her and his lips on hers. Why would he do that? Why would he tell her that, at this moment?
Could it be true at all? Her father would never think like that, surely.
She was his heir; she was to carry on the family name.
But as she was now, she could not carry on anything.
A leytouched woman could not bear legitimate children to continue a noble bloodline; nobody would accept such a thing.
Would he have already considered that? If her powers could not be stripped, was she too broken, too damaged, too useless to be allowed to live?
Deep down, not in her heart but in her gut, a small but insistent voice told her it was true. That Felix would not lie about something like this, not to her. It didn’t make her feel any better.
She buried her face in Shadow’s mane again, unable to suppress the choked sob that fought its way out, or the hot tears spilling over her cheeks. The horse pushed its head against her shoulder, letting out a quiet snort .
For one perfect moment she had thought none of it mattered, that she could be something other than the cursed girl hurtling towards inevitable doom. That she could have something that was just for her, because she wanted it. Now she was more alone than she had ever been.
Her magic rose and fell inside and around her, as chaotic and volatile as her emotions.
Felix had asked her to run away with him.
The raw emotion on his face was something she had never seen there before, and part of her, a much larger part than she would admit, wanted to run after him.
To flee back into his arms and tell him yes, she would go with him.
Yes, let’s take a ship; let’s sail far, far away.
Let’s burn all the bridges and abandon the cause.
Get lost in each other and chase that elusive thing called freedom together.
See the world and follow the stars and forget about everything else.
But that was not what was right. She could not live on the run, always looking over her shoulder, never able to trust anyone.
And even if she did not know why exactly, she was beyond all doubt that she had to reach the Nexus.
She had known it ever since they crossed that first ley line.
She did not want to spend her life hiding, abandoning something so much greater than herself.
It would not be real freedom, because there would be no meaning to it.
Isolde stared long and hard into the darkness, until she managed to stuff all her heartache into a box and replaced it with hardened determination.
Her tears dried up, her breathing steadied, and the surge of magic receded to its quiet current.
Even if everything else went up in flames, even if the entire world was against her, she had a goal.
She would get to the Nexus, and she would do whatever it was she was called there to do.
She would master her magic, and she would find her answers.
Felix could leave if he wanted to. It would shatter her heart into a million pieces if he did, but it was his decision to make.
Until he made it, she would expect nothing from him.
** *
The next morning, Isolde did her best to pretend things were normal.
She forced some small talk, helped break up the camp and even played with Leif’s puppy for a little while, which made her smile despite everything.
As for Felix, she avoided him as much as possible, because she was at a loss for what else to do.
With the group now several horses short, they briefly discussed the option of riding double. With the uneven terrain and the distance ahead, however, it was soon decided they would simply take turns walking.
Mia’s presence was equal parts intimidating and intriguing.
The bard was unapologetically beautiful and confident, talked to everyone as if she’d known them for years, and inserted herself into the group as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Luella treated her much as she treated Felix, with a sort of amused irritation.
Leif was clearly smitten, although Isolde wasn’t sure if that was because of Mia’s beauty or just because he’d never met someone like her before.
Garren mostly ignored the bard and her charms, which seemed to delight Mia to no end.
And Felix… Felix had some kind of history with Mia, there was no doubt about it.
They did not act like “old friends” at all.
Old friends would have chatted, caught up on each other’s news.
But Felix avoided Mia, avoided even looking at her, and Mia did not seem bothered or confused by this in the slightest.
The sun was low on the horizon when Mia edged her horse next to Isolde’s. Luella and Leif were up ahead, while Garren and Felix trailed behind.
“So,” Mia said, startling Isolde out of her thoughts. “How are you?”
Isolde frowned. “I… um, well, we’ve been travelling for a while now. We had some difficulties, but I think we are making good time. I’m getting more of a grip on my magic and –”
“No, love,” Mia interrupted, smiling. “I meant, how are you. How do you feel? ”
A fierce rush of emotions assaulted her, so strong she forgot to breathe for a moment. How did she feel? How could she even begin to answer that?
“I’m only asking,” Mia continued gently, “because it would be completely understandable if you are having a hard time with all of this.”
Isolde blinked fiercely, swallowing down the lump in her throat. She would not cry in front of Mia; she just wouldn’t. She was a stranger! Her governess would have a fit at the mere thought. She stuffed the emotions back in their box.
“Thank you,” she said, not meeting Mia’s gaze.
“It’s really kind of you to ask. I’m… I’m fine, most days.
I haven’t been alone; the others are there for me.
It hasn’t been all bad.” Before she could stop herself, she glanced over her shoulder at Felix.
He walked at the back of the group, and he had clearly been looking her way because his eyes caught hers the moment she turned her head.
She quickly returned her attention to the landscape ahead of them, but Mia’s expression was far too knowing for her liking.
“You are not at all what I expected,” Mia said after a while.
Isolde looked sideways at her, startled. “Um… What were you expecting?”
Mia shrugged. “A little lady, prim and proper, treating others like servants.”
Isolde smiled. “Complaining about mud on my shoes?”
“Exactly. But you sat and made everyone tea this morning, and you saddle your own horse. And the way you look at Felix is not very ladylike,” she added with a catlike smile.
Isolde blushed furiously. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, no? You’re not the first lovesick girl giving him that look, but it’s certainly the first time I’ve seen him return it.”
“I’m not… There’s nothing…” Isolde stammered, then gave up just as quickly. She let out a long sigh. “Some days I almost wish I’d never met him, but I don’t know what I would have done without him, either.”
“That sounds like Felix,” Mia said with a laugh. “Infuriatingly difficult, then suddenly kind and sweet, then ice cold again, as if he’s worried you’ll think he’s capable of feelings.” Her tone confirmed it; they definitely had a history together.
Isolde chewed her lip for a while until eventually curiosity got the better of her. “What is he to you? ”
Mia waved a hand dismissively. “Right now? An annoyance, mostly. Keeps glaring at me when I try to talk to you in peace.” She glowered exaggeratedly in Felix’s direction. Isolde permitted herself a small smile.
“We used to sleep together for a while,” Mia added casually, as if she’d said they used to play cards once a week.
Isolde bit her lip, and something sour, something suspiciously like jealousy, swirled in her stomach. “Were you in love?”
Mia laughed. “Weaver, no. I don’t do love. Only brief, uncomplicated fun, no strings attached. Love eventually just makes for sad songs nobody wants to hear.”
Isolde studied Mia’s face as she gazed off into the distance, and something told her the bard wasn’t talking about Felix anymore. She breathed a tiny, involuntary sigh that was definitely not relief, decided not to poke at that particular bruise, and they both got lost in thought.
“Still,” Mia said a short while later, breaking the silence. “The moment I ran into him in Marsan, it was clear that kind of fun was no longer on the table. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.” Her smile was positively wicked.
Isolde’s cheeks heated, and she looked away. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You… what?” Mia gaped at her with huge, round eyes. “You’ve been travelling together for how long?”
“Well, I’ve been a little busy running, fighting off bounty hunters, trying to get a grip on all this –” Isolde threw a flurry of sparks into the air to illustrate her point – “to have a lot of time for… for romance.”
Mia scoffed dramatically. “Don’t give me that nonsense. Gorgeous man who is clearly obsessed with you, and you’ve spent practically every day together for how long? What are you too busy for, at night in your bedroll by yourself?”
“I kissed him,” Isolde blurted out. Why was she telling Mia this? She barely believed it had happened at all.
Mia laughed. “Good for you.”
“And then we argued.”
“I don’t see the problem.”
“You’re not helping,” Isolde mumbled .
“He won’t either,” Mia said with a shrug and a roll of her eyes. “Underneath all the sarcasm and ferocity, he is a bit stunted. He will be the last to admit to having a heart, never mind putting it on the line. Too scared of getting hurt, thinks he wouldn’t be able to cope.”