Chapter 19
Elorie
Isolde opens the door to my room before we reach it, and Callum carries me inside. I tried to fight him when he picked me up in the hallway, but there was no strength in my arms to stop him.
Hazel drained something more than my energy. It’s like she took a piece of me with her.
Not me—my magic.
While my magic refuses to wake, its absence is haunting. I’m shaking, sweat drips down the back of my neck as Isolde starts to fill a bath. Callum sets me in the tub, still fully clothed, and the sudden chill makes my breath catch.
The icy bite of the water reminds me of the stony Alyssium shore. Snow kissing the tip of my nose. A brutal winter breeze cutting through the thickest furs. Blistering seawater lapping at my feet.
I’m still blinking my vision into focus when Isolde pours a blue tonic into the bathwater. The shade reminds me of my hair. Of the morning glories that used to grow on Alyssium. It reminds me of a time when I thought I was simply human, and things weren’t so complicated.
The tonic mixes with the water, and my vision blinks in and out. Callum and Isolde move around the room in bursts. They’re impossible to watch without my stomach turning, so I close my eyes.
“See through the stars.”
I shake my head. “Why is your voice the one I hear right before I die?”
“You aren’t dying.” Wilder’s sigh is a caress in my mind.
“What if I were dying, would you die too? Or is that only if one of the three of us kills the others? What are the rules?”
“So many questions for a girl who thinks she’s dying.”
“You don’t sound too worried about it.”
“I’m not. Do you see me standing over you panicking right now?”
“To panic, you’d have to care.” I lean my head back as something starts to soothe me. The tonic, maybe?
“True,” he agrees.
“How do you even know what’s happening?”
“If you paid attention, you would too.”
“That’s not an answer.” My throat aches, and I realize I said that out loud.
“Elorie?” Callum’s worried voice has my eyes snapping open. He’s squatting beside the tub, worry etched between his brows.
His sleeve is soaked from where he’s reaching into the water to hold my hand. I hadn’t realized I was holding his in return.
Isolde pours more tonic into the water. This one as red as a rose in full bloom.
“What is that?” My voice is weak.
“It will help protect you while your magic regains strength. Magic is not infinite like you might think—within this realm or your blood—but it can always be replenished if there is but a kernel left to water.” She brushes her blonde hair back with a wet hand.
“Most of the time I think my magic isn’t there at all.”
Isolde hums, placing the empty glass bottle beside the other. “Just because you cannot see your soul, does that mean it isn’t stirring inside you?”
“I guess not.” I swallow hard.
“The same goes for magic. It’s there, whether you feel it or not. Sometimes deep but ever present. You are your only limit, Elorie.”
She reaches over and brushes her hand through the water, warming it.
“Thank you,” I whisper, appreciating the heat that seeps through my skin, chasing away the cold.
“Humans.” She smirks, glancing at Callum. “Impressed by the simplest things.”
He smiles, so I splash water in his face.
“Hey!” He shifts back, laughing.
“I’m right here. And I’m still in my mind enough to understand when you’re making fun of me.”
“It’s not an insult,” Isolde says, standing.
“We would all do better if we spent time appreciating things the way humans do. After all, we are all a bit of stardust to the gods, bound to drift away eventually. Especially now with magic slowly dying. I don’t miss the battle lines, but the Mortal Realm was a good reminder of what deserves appreciation when nothing truly lasts. ”
Callum nods. “I saw that on Alyssium too. That’s why I stayed.”
Isolde watches him, lost in thought. Her gaze is steady but distant. After a long pause, she brushes her hands down the front of her dress. “That should be enough to get you better by morning, but you need to rest.”
Callum stands, reaching for my hand.
When he pulls me up, I’m surprised to have strength in my legs again. My cheeks are warm. I inhale as deeply as I did when the obsidian shackles were removed from my body. It isn’t just a breath I take in, but the magic around me. My skin prickles with every sensation.
“Dinner is soon, and the king will expect you to be there.” Isolde watches me as I find my balance at Callum’s side. “You can lie down for a bit, but I’ll be back with your dress. Here, put this on. Dry off and rest for as long as you can.”
She reaches for my nightdress, then shoos Callum from the bathing chamber. He waits in my bedroom while Isolde helps me get changed. For the first time since I arrived at the Ley Court, I don’t mind her help. Something as simple as pulling the dress on overhead takes all my strength.
Isolde helps me to my bed, saying something to Callum before she leaves. But he stays, watching me.
“Are you just going to stand there and stare? I’ll be fine if you have somewhere you need to be.”
He drops his chin, dragging his dark hair back with his fingers. “I’m staying.”
When his eyes lift, I can tell he’s waiting for me to kick him out, but I don’t have the energy, and I can’t shake the emptiness still trying to crawl through me, so it feels better to have him here.
“You’re not wearing armor,” I point out, lying back on my bed.
He walks over and sits down on the edge. His hand is so close that our fingers brush. “I’m out of rotation for a few days.”
His navy-blue tunic draws out flecks of blue in his gray eyes. The tie at the top is undone, revealing a hint of his hard chest. When he’s dressed casually, it’s impossible not to appreciate how beautiful he is. How gentle his fingers are as they brush against mine.
I clear my throat and look away. “What did Hazel do to me?”
“Short answer or long answer?”
“Is that even a question?”
Callum grins, jutting his chin, urging me to scoot over on the bed so he can lie beside me. The pillow he rests his head on is wet from my hair, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Hazel has extremely powerful magic.”
“Seems like that’s the case for everyone around here.”
“No one is like Hazel.” He turns his face to me. “Many think she’s a banisher because that’s the closest known magic that compares to hers, but what she possesses is far beyond that of any other banisher in the written text.”
“They nullify magic, don’t they? Like obsidian.”
“Yes. But Hazel doesn’t just nullify it; her touch consumes it.
If she hadn’t let go, she could have absorbed every last drop until even your human heart wouldn’t be able to survive.
Many think the difference between the humans and the Fae is their magic, but it isn’t.
Even a human heart has a flicker of the gods within it.
We were all crafted by them. The only difference is that the Fae are able to access what resides within ours because it’s more potent—by our land and lineage.
If Hazel hadn’t let go, she could have drained more than your magic or your life, Elorie. She could have stolen your soul.”
My throat tightens. “I’ve never heard of magic like that.”
“Before her, no one had.” Callum rests his hand over mine, and my heart starts to race. “It’s why the king is so protective of her. Although, I think she scares him too, whether he’d admit it or not.”
“It’s hard to imagine the king being scared of anything.”
“He’s smart enough to be wary of his sister.
The more powerful the magic, the harder it is to control.
When Hazel was a child, she accidentally killed an entire wing of Fae while sleeping.
She had a nightmare, and her magic spilled out.
After that, King Erdem changed the floors and walls in her room to obsidian so her magic couldn’t unintentionally escape when she was asleep. ”
“Obsidian works on her then?”
“Yes and no.” Callum shrugs. “Her magic is a void, so there’s nothing to nullify, but obsidian creates a barrier her magic doesn’t pass through.”
“I can see why the king keeps her close.” And why I don’t want to be anywhere near her.
“She’s his greatest weapon if it comes down to it,” Callum agrees. “Her touch could snuff out an entire battlefield. He could use her to win this war if he so chooses.”
“So why doesn’t he?”
Callum looks up at the ceiling. “Preservation, most likely. He can’t use her without draining what’s already running scarce.”
“Magic,” I whisper, and Callum nods.
While Hazel is his weapon of destruction, I’m a beacon of rebirth. Two sides to King Malachi’s plan, both being used as tools in this war.
I shiver. “Thank you for stopping her earlier.”
“It wouldn’t have done any good without Isolde’s help in restoring what was taken.” He frowns.
“What was in the tonics she used in the bath? One was blue. Like the color of morning glories.”
“That’s what it was. Morning glory essence. They once grew all over Lyrichia and Vaelier, amplifying magic. They were the first to die after the Collision.”
“That’s why the king was surprised they grew on Alyssium. Because there’s no magic there.”
Callum nods. “The second tonic was rose water mixed with Fae blood.”
“Blood?” Just the thought makes my stomach churn.
“Our blood is where our magic blooms. While there is magic in everything around us, it is most potent within a life source. Blood is the simplest way to extract magic in a meaningful way. To be transferred or even—” He shakes his head, brushing his hair back.
“What were you going to say?” I push myself up on my elbows.
“It’s not important.”
“Don’t shut me out, Callum.” I sit up, frowning. “That’s how this whole mess started.”
He sighs, pushing to sit himself, and it sinks in that this is the first time we’ve shared a bed, although this is completely platonic. His leg brushes mine, and it would take so little for him to just lean over and kiss me. But he doesn’t.
“Blood is the easiest way magic can be stolen.” He frowns.
“I thought the king said magic can’t be stolen, only offered.”
“In a binding ceremony, yes, because that’s the only way it’s sustainable. But magic can technically still be stolen, even if it’s not of much use long term. Stolen magic burns hot and then burns out quickly. It doesn’t last long if not given freely.”
“So why would someone steal it?”
Something dark crosses Callum’s expression as my hair breezes at my shoulders. The warmth of the room closes in, as if he’s placed us in a cocoon.
“At the edges of the Well, where magic is scarce, Fae are getting desperate.” His voice is low.
“How desperate?”
“Very.” Callum bares his teeth, letting his fangs drop from his gums. The sharpened points glitter in the light before he retracts them. “The quickest way to recharge magic is with blood sharing. Which, when it’s voluntary, is extremely effective. It can be used for quick healing, sustaining, or…”
“Pleasure,” I finish, remembering the stories whispered around the village every time a human would bed a guard.
Callum rakes his hair back, avoiding my gaze.
“Exactly. But there are Fae who are so desperate, they’ll drink whether it’s offered or not.
Blood is the quickest way to absorb fresh magic, and it’s more potent when it’s stolen.
That rush becomes addictive. It overtakes them until they become something else entirely. ”
My stomach swirls, considering what’s become of the territories close to the Well. What twisted things the Well is turning those Fae into. They’re feeding on each other. Draining each other. The desperation I felt on Alyssium isn’t isolated. The entire realm is suffering.
“You need rest, not more nightmares.” Callum climbs off the bed.
“I needed the truth.” I look up at him, wishing he’d stay but not feeling brave enough to ask. “Thank you for telling me.”
He nods, and it feels like we’ve bridged a gap.
“I’ll see you at dinner, Elorie.”
“Yes, then we can both stand around and not eat together.”
He chuckles, turning his back to me. But when his hand lands on the doorknob, I remember something Hazel said.
“Wait.” I push to the edge of the bed. “Who is your father? Hazel mentioned him like he’s here at the palace, but you’ve never talked about him.”
Callum freezes with his back still to me. “Cyan.”
“King Malachi’s adviser?”
“Unfortunately.” He doesn’t offer more as he leaves the room, and I get the impression he doesn’t want me to ask.
When I lie back down, I don’t sleep. And even if my magic is still struggling, I’m no longer tired.