27. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Viola
I t didn't take long for Plume to send a message to Jaz's crew that we were going to settle in Rainworth for the time being. Slowly, they began to trickle into the burgeoning town, carrying food, ale, bedding, and anything they could fit in their transport carts.
Sweat runs down my spine as I work with Mace to repair the town's stonework. "Geomancy is my least used magic," Mace says, groaning and stretching. It just does not come naturally to me." The crashing sound of a large stone being stacked on another punctuates his complaints.
"That surprises me," I remark, focusing on fortifying the house in front of me. The stones shift and grow where needed to form a single-family home. "Geomancy is from a different core than Influence but the same as Decay, so I would have thought you'd have the same control over it." While we're not using our bodies physically, the drain of magic is not to be brushed off. I can tell just by looking at Mace that he's close to needing a break. I'm not sure if he's ready to admit that, though.
"If you haven't noticed," he says with a grunt as he moves a large stone from one structure to another, repurposing it, "my Decay isn't actually that strong either."
"I actually hadn't noticed. You use it fairly frequently."
"Yeah, because it's basically my only offensive magic, but it's really nothing impressive. Not compared to my father, at least. His Decay was so powerful and widespread. He could take out a forest at once if he wanted to." He pulls his shirt off and wipes it across his face, capturing dirt and sweat alike. His black pants fall low on his slim hips, and my eyes linger on the defined plains of his chest. He catches my perusal and tosses his shirt in my face.
"Asshole," I mutter, dropping the shirt on the ground.
The sun is on its way towards the horizon, and it is still incredibly hot. The climate here is not much different than Dalery, but it's quite different than Ytopie with its placement in a valley. A breeze off the ocean provides temporary relief from the oppressive humidity. "We need more trees for shade," I mutter, looking around at the ruins that are quickly becoming Rainworth.
Mace moves to my side and links his pinky with mine, using it to pull me close to his side. "You have Spring magic now. You could try it."
I shake my head, rubbing over the sunfire on my chest. "Not right now."
Maybe I should tell Mace that since arriving here, my magic has felt unruly. It's like devotion is everywhere, but mostly, I feel it beneath my feet as if it soaked into the ground. I worry that trying to pull plants from the ground would pull that magic with it, and something tells me I don't want to do that just yet.
Everything within me screams that there is going to be a better use for that magic soon.
"I think it's going to be time to eat soon." Mace interrupts my thoughts, and I swing my head towards him and smile.
"Have we fixed up a dining hall yet?"
He points to a large building near the amphitheater. "Last one for the day."
It's so easy to work alongside Mace. I know the path we tread to each other was not a straight line, but now that we are on the same page, everything flows so freely between us. For the first time in my life I finally feel like someone understands me and the way I see the world. I love this man in a way I have never loved before.
Wholly, completely, and desperately.
Mace knows what I want and desire, and he fights for me to get it. What more could I ask for in a partner?
"Do you ever want to get married?" I ask.
His large hand hits my chest as Mace grinds to a halt, stopping me with him. "Excuse me?"
"Marriage. Did you want to get married?"
"It's more a human thing," he says, rubbing the back of his head. "I never really thought about it." Taking me by the shoulders, Mace turns me so he can look into my eyes. "Did you want to get married, Viola?"
"Absolutely not," I say with a shrug, wiggling out of his grip and continuing to walk toward the dining hall .
"Then why would you bring that up?" he practically shouts, chasing after me.
"I was thinking about how you're my partner and was wondering if you ever wanted a title change."
His laugh echoes in the nearly empty town. "Title change? Like this is some role that you've bestowed upon me?"
"Isn't it? What is a relationship but deciding to play a role for another person."
"Viola, that…" Mace inhales sharply, fighting back a laugh, "that's completely correct." He loses his battle with his laugh and grabs me by the hand, spinning me into his arms. "I don't need a title change, numen. As long as I'm by your side, I am happy."
I lean forward and kiss him gently, running my fingers along his cheekbone. "I'm glad you don't want to get married. I hate wearing dresses."
Dinner was hastily prepared on a wood-burning stove that Mace and I built when we reconstructed the dining hall. Plume and Jaz spent their day down the hill and in the forest to find meat and vegetables and collect wood on the cart they toted with them. They came back sweaty and exhausted, but we had food for all of us, including the crew from Jaz's ship.
We sat around, a hodgepodge mix of humans and fae, but a family nonetheless. Looking at everyone, I cannot help but think about how different things were for me just a few months ago. I was so skeptical of everyone I met that I never would have put myself in a room of people like this.
It feels like I've finally broken down the wall that my parents built and I spent my life fortifying.
I never would've imagined that this would be the result of me winning the Race.
After a hearty meal of braised stag and root vegetables, the crew cleared out, leaving just Mace, Zeph, Tulip, Plume, Morrow, Jaz, and myself in the dining hall.
"So what was Viola like as a kid?" Tulip asks, draining her second mug of ale.
Jaz laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls in this empty space. We were able to build some tables and benches from stone, but otherwise, the room is cavernous and lit solely by balls of Light that Morrow, Zeph, and I have spread around it.
"More serious than she is now, if you can imagine." Jaz's bright red hair has been shaved down on the sides, leaving a section running down the middle, and it sharpens the corners of their eyes as they crinkle with mirth.
"I cannot imagine," Tulip says, snorting as she laughs.
"Believe it. All of the kids would be climbing trees, chasing one another, and generally goofing off and then there was Viola, sitting down, pouring over some book about magical plants or beasts or the fae." Jaz sips their drink, and I know they mean well, but the words make me flinch.
It's hard to be reminded of the fact that I had no childhood. There was a time when I was supposed to live a carefree existence, my only worry the scrapes on my knees. Mace snakes his hand around my waist and pulls me tighter to him as if he could read my discomfort.
"I was similar," Morrow says to Jaz. "I didn't go out much, didn't interact with many others. Spent a lot of time in my books." He grips the mug of ale in front of him as he speaks, his residual limb hidden in a long-sleeved olive green shirt despite the heat.
"Any particular reason why?" I ask curiously.
He shrugs and awkwardly tries to determine the most comfortable way to rest his left arm on the table but gives up quickly and lets it dangle. "My parents were both the same, and I never felt the desire to go out and find much more. It may surprise you, considering just how charming and irresistible I am, but I tend to prefer solitude." His smile is charming but far too short, falling as soon as the attention is off of him.
"Mace was that way," Zeph says, looking at his brother. "Not to the extreme as you or Viola, but he was not chasing me, Plume, and Loris around. He was reading, drawing, and working with mother in her garden."
"Until I accidentally used some Decay on it," Mace mutters.
"Wait," I say, turning to him. "You draw?"
"I designed your clothes when you were in Ytopie. That typically requires the ability to sketch them out," he says incredulously.
"I guess I didn't realize that you went that far. I thought you just told someone what you wanted." I attempt to brush some of my loose hair behind my ear, but I forget the points and have to physically pick it up and place the strands behind my left ear as I speak. "How come I haven't seen you draw anything?"
Mace shrugs and takes a deep drink of his ale. "Not like we've had time to relax and share hobbies." He places his mug down, but the glass it is crafted from splinters, and a small pinprick of blood appears on his fingertip. "Shit," he says, moving to suck it into his mouth.
I grab his wrist and pull it towards me. "Let me. I need to practice reading blood that isn't from a monster during a murder."
"You read my blood all the time," he says as he laughs. "But go ahead." He holds his hand out to me, and I pull it towards my mouth as our companions watch with rapt attention. My tongue darts out and pulls the bead of blood from Mace's finger.
My vision blurs and my mind is inundated with memories of Mace and Zeph as children, with a couple who looks so similar to the pair of mismatched brothers. I see myself through his eyes, and I can feel the affection he has for me so acutely that it nearly takes me to my knees. There's a unique curiosity from when he first discovered me, the guilt in the way he tracked me and my progress through the Race year after year, and the excitement he felt to meet me at opening ceremonies.
And there is love.
So much love .
It's overwhelming, a haze over every recent memory, like I am an attachment to every part of his life. Mundane, boring memories of us cooking food in the middle of nowhere as we journeyed through the Lowlands are wrapped in so much affection that it leaves me breathless.
I knew Mace loved me. He's made it clear, he's told me over and over, but fuck.
I can feel how much he loves me.
And it is all-encompassing. It is unconditional.
It is everything I desire and yet don't deserve.
And I am never letting this man go.
I come out of the vision and grab both sides of his face, pulling him against me and kissing him deeply, trying to show him how much I care for him. His arms snake around my lower back, and he leans into me, deepening the kiss and teasing his tongue against my own. My body lights up at every touch from him, and I scoot closer to him on the bench, seeking to erase all distance between our hips, to press my chest against his, to feel him in every part of me.
A throat clearing has me pulling away from Mace, lips puffy and face flushed, and I look away from him to see Tulip looking mischievous. "Well damn, now I want you to try mine." She extends her hand.
The excitement of getting to experience Tulip's blood has me jumping up and rounding the table to stand behind her. "Are you serious?"
"Absolutely!" She chews on her lower lip, and then her eyes brighten with an idea. "You should practice controlling your bloodlust and see if you can get specific information from someone. I want you to find my mother's name."
I pause, Tulip's hand in my own. "You want me to dig through what the blood shows me?"
"We don't really know how your magic works, right?" I nod. "Then let's see if this works. It's been showing you what you need, so why not find out if it can show you what you want?" Tulip's idea makes sense, and the excitement of flexing my magical muscles takes over me. I pull my shadow blade and prick a small wound into the tip of her finger.
Leaning down, I lick the blood off, and I am quickly overwhelmed with the bright memories of Tulip Goldtide.
I see what has to be Twig, a boy who is so obviously her twin with his messy blonde hair and that same gap between his teeth. He has a smattering of freckles across his nose, and through Tulip's eyes, I see him grab my hands and take off at a run towards something. The vision blurs for a moment, and then a punch of sorrow hits me. I'm in Gallant Summit, and I see the seps drawing near Twig. Willing the Blood magic to take me away from this, I find myself living out memories of Tulip's childhood. It's so real, so visceral I can almost smell the bread her mother is pulling out of the oven. An older, short man with clear blue eyes and sandy brown hair takes the loaf of bread from the woman and then speaks to her.
"Willow," I say, wrenching myself from Tulip's memories. "Her name was Willow."
She squeezes me in a tight hug. "I knew you could do it." Her voice is wobbly and I want to squeeze her tightly and never let go. "What else did you see?"
"So many memories of Twig, your mother's bread, your father."
Tulip's face cracks wide in a smile, and she closes her eyes. "I'm glad that's what you saw, then." Sitting back down at the table, she snags Zeph's full mug of ale from in front of him and takes a sip. "You could've seen my plans to overthrow you and murder you in your sleep."
Jaz coughs, spraying ale across the table. Plume taps lightly on their back to help them gain their composure. "I'm sorry, did you just threaten to murder a God?"
"We're all thinking it," Tulip says innocently.
Morrow's booming laugh fills the area. "My wife appears to have a death wish." He's been calling her his wife for weeks now, but this time, it does not hold as much mirth as it has in the past. I see the corner of his mouth turn down as he takes another large drink from his mug.
"She would never," Tulip quips, shooting me a wink.
"Try mine next?" Plume says, reaching her hand across Jaz to me. "I don't want you to find anything specific. I'm just curious what my blood tells you."
The night continues like that, me trying the blood of all my traveling companions. I learned that Plume spent her childhood in ripped pants with short hair at the behest of her father who wanted a son, which was why she prefers long hair and skirts now. Morrow has a lot of memories surrounding cooking with his mother and carving wooden figurines with his father. Jaz's blood showed me memories of myself and Max and even Link, the way we would get in trouble and sneak out, and Max would crawl to them, begging for them to bail us out.
I tried Zeph's blood last, and it almost exclusively showed me conversations he'd had with Loris about me and the things I could do.
"You chose what to show me," I say, looking at Zeph curiously. "How?"
"What did you see?" he asks, leaning forward.
"I saw you and Loris talking about me. Making plans."
He smiles and leans back, resting his head in his hands behind his head. "So that's why." Noting my confused expression, he continues with a satisfied grin. "Himureal tried my blood to see if I was loyal to him and nothing came of it. I was trying to direct my blood with what to show him. It appears it worked."
"I don't know if I like that. It means it's not an infallible method of gaining the truth," I say, crossing my arms and tapping my fingers along my skin.
Mace rakes his hands through his hair, and it falls awkwardly. He really needs to get it cut. "Well, combined with Light, it should be enough to pull it out. But most won't think to hide anything in their blood anyway. Plus, it's more thoughts and desires and memories, right?"
"I've seen all of it. But mostly, it's memories and thoughts, yeah."
"There's no way to lie in those. Maybe conceal, but not lie. With Light blended in, I don't think you 'd have any issue," Mace continues.
Zeph holds his hand out turning the palm up. "Let's practice, shall we?"