CHAPTER 44
Spirits soared. For the last five days, drills and maneuvers had been in full swing at Badbe Garrison training grounds. Hope was renewed. Danu had a bloodmarked—a powerful one.
“It’s astonishing,” Esmee said. Tiny birds as elated as she was flitted in and out of her bird’s nest of hair.
“Beyond our hopes,” Olivia agreed, and clasped her hands in front of her.
They’d been watching Bristol practice for the last hour and commenting on her newfound powers.
Olivia shook her head. “The poor thing. How frustrating it must have been for her to memorize all the spells we threw at her and get no results. Look at her now.”
Esmee, Olivia, and Reuben sat beneath a canopy, observing maneuvers and taking notes, looking for holes in security and spells they might prescribe to remedy them. But it was Bristol who kept drawing their attention.
“Marvelous,” Reuben replied dryly. While he understood everyone’s elation, a larger part of him still wished Bristol was gone, that she had followed his advice and left Elphame for good. It was not likely now that she would ever leave.
“Look at that!” Esmee exclaimed. “She twisted that flame around the kindling like it was a ribbon on a package.”
“Perfection,” Olivia said. “I think she has a kinship with fire.”
Esmee clapped. “Our lessons weren’t for nothing after all.”
Reuben heaved a sigh.
Olivia rolled her dark eyes. “What, Reuben? Just say it.”
He shrugged his bony shoulders. “All is not flowers and sunshine, you know?”
“But neither is it—”
“She’ll be hunted. If she isn’t already. From this day forward, every kingdom in Elphame will want to control her, at least until another bloodmarked is found. There are Kormicks all over this land. One will eventually get her. She’s too great a prize for them to resist.”
Esmee clucked her tongue, annoyed with his doom and gloom. “She has all of us and Tyghan to protect her. She’ll be safe.”
Reuben only nodded. “A bird in a cage. Going back to her old life will be impossible.”
Bristol had never been so exhausted in her life, but it was in the very best way.
She’d had no idea that magic could be so tiring.
Like everything else, it came with a cost, but it was worth it.
She had been opening portals and closing them from one end of the palace grounds to the other, each effort taking less time.
Exhilaration fueled her. She was surprised at how free she felt.
Like a final shadow of the past had been shed.
All those weeks of faking magic, knowing she was a fraud, were gone. The shame was gone. She was confident she could close the Abyss door now—again and again if necessary. It might cost her a few blisters, but she would close it, and she’d make sure it stayed closed.
There could be a happy ending after all, she thought.
For once in her life, it wasn’t too much to hope for.
Her promise to Harper and Cat seemed more certain.
She pictured her father, hiding somewhere out in the wilds, strategizing, scheming, still concocting an impossible rescue plan, one man against all of Fomoria.
Hold on, Daddy. Stay put. Stay hidden just a little bit longer. This is almost over. I will take you home. Bristol knew he didn’t want her help. He only wanted her to return home. But this time, he would get her help whether he wanted it or not.
And I will take Mother home too.
Her heart tugged. Another promise. Had her sisters received the letter yet?
Her mother had never asked or wanted to be the monster of Elphame.
Tender moments with her mother had resurfaced in these past days.
Bristol remembered the warm colorful scarves her mother wove for her daughters, the summer nights she lay in a meadow with them all lined up like sausages as she pointed out the stars, the way she would recite poetry as she brushed their hair, adding sound effects to make them laugh.
The good memories had been buried beneath Bristol’s mountain of anger when her mother left so suddenly without word.
It had been a cruel rejection Bristol couldn’t accept, especially as her father fell apart.
But now she knew why she had left. Her father said she did it for them.
She had no choice. She sacrificed everything to keep us safe. She vowed her daughters’ lives would be different from hers.
Leanna Keats would get her life back too. And Kormick would pay for what he had done. That was Bristol’s vow.
She checked her nails. It had become a habit, just to make sure nothing had surfaced.
Her nails were only creamy, with pale moons.
She looked forward to the day when she would stop thinking about it altogether.
Don’t tell anyone. It was a shameful whisper to Tyghan, and she wished she hadn’t said it at all.
It made her think of her childhood, the whispers that made her ashamed.
Pack up, ease out, don’t cause a stir. The secrets grew in her imagination, secrets that became monsters.
She was done with monsters. She wouldn’t live this way. She would never think of it again.
Bristol reached out, tendrils of light flying up her arms and through her hair, her lashes sparking with magic and the buzz of power humming in her chest. “Abiendubra,” she whispered as she closed her fist. And without a drop of sweat, without fear, without hesitation—success: The portal to the sacred groves that she had just opened was gone. A handful of onlookers applauded.
But then she felt a presence at her back, eyes watching her.
Very specific eyes. She turned to find Tyghan studying her, his mind brewing with some question.
Officers milled around him, absorbed in their own conversations.
Tyghan had been in meetings all morning with the monarchs of Bleakwood and Silverwing, but had popped in with the officers when he could to check on maneuvers.
He left the group and walked closer now that he had her attention. “I have a question for you, soldier.”
“Yes?” she said, drawing out the word seductively.
A smile lit his eyes. He was ready to play her game, but then he cleared his throat, knowing they had an audience, and got back to business. “How big can you make one of those portals?”
She had been so focused on opening them so she could practice shutting them that she hadn’t really experimented with the size. “I don’t know. Let’s see.”
She started to raise her arm, and he grabbed it. “Wait. This time I want you to open one to a place farther away. Timbercrest. Where you closed your first one. Think you can do that?”
She needed coordinates—a specific spot in mind.
Her mind tumbled back to the ride through the predawn forest, the purple sky, the silhouettes of trees, and she nodded to herself, seeing the exact spot in her mind.
“I’ll try.” Big and far—another challenge.
She lifted her arm, her palm facing upward, as she concentrated.
A ball of silver light hovered in front of it.
“The glade. The brook. The stand of alder trees,” she whispered.
The silver light jumped and spread outward in a line.
Wider, Bristol thought when it reached a width of a few yards.
Wider. As the watery light spread, Bristol’s arm shook, like she was holding a heavy weight. Wider. Sweat sprang to her brow. Wider.
By now, a crowd had gathered.
“That’s enough, Bri,” Tyghan said. “Your arm—”
Wider.
“Bri—”
She dropped her arm, the energy released. The light slowly dissipated until the portal couldn’t be seen. Far and wide, just as Tyghan had asked.
He stepped up to where the light had been and tossed a rock. The spot lit up again briefly, illuminating a massive entrance to the glade in Timbercrest.
“Holy loving shitcakes,” Sashka mumbled.
“Concur,” Cully said.
Quin stared, his eyes wide. “I’ve never seen one that big.”
“None of us have,” Kasta replied.
Bristol glanced at Tyghan and shrugged playfully, trying to act like it was no big deal, but giddiness bubbled inside her. She was just as awed as everyone watching. “Is that what you had in mind?”
Tyghan’s mouth circled into an O. “I think I need to test this,” he finally said. He called for August and settled into his saddle, circling and positioning himself in front of the portal.
“What? Wait,” Bristol said, concern rapidly deflating her awe. “You’re going to go through it? It won’t light up from the other end! How will you find—”
“Now!” Tyghan shouted, and August bolted forward. The portal lit up as they sailed through it, and then they were swallowed whole. Light, man, and beast. Gone.
The silence was jolting. The officers, even Commander Maddox and Officer Ailes, moved closer, peering at the place where the portal had been, as shocked as Bristol.
She stared, uncertain what to do. Terror clutched her.
What if he didn’t come back? Her knees weakened.
What if she got the coordinates wrong? What if—
And then the portal lit up again. Tyghan and August raced through it, the Timbercrest glade visible behind them, and they leapt back onto the training grounds.
A round of cheers went up, but Bristol’s heart still hammered against her ribs.
Tyghan slid from his saddle and officers closed in, clasping hands overhead, ecstatic.
Bristol remained planted where she was, still trying to catch up with her own emotions.
Tyghan noticed, and in a few long strides, was beside her.
Instead of offering him similar congratulations, she shoved both of her hands into his shoulders.
“What do you think you were doing? You could have—”
Tyghan laughed and grabbed her before she could shove him again.
“Have more faith in yourself,” he said. “Don’t you realize what this means?
I don’t have to worry about moving twenty thousand troops into place on the day of the ceremony.
With portals of this size, whole regiments can jump straight from the garrison to the valley.
Fomoria won’t know what hit them.” When she still just stared at him, he added, “This is huge, Bristol. You can smile.”
Her initial fright subsided, and the news sank in. Huge. A small laugh finally shook her chest, and she threw her arms around his neck. “But don’t ever do something like that again, without warning me first.”
“Got it. But before we experiment any more—” He grabbed her hand and began dragging her to the supply hut.
“We need a little talk.” As soon as he closed the door behind them, he began kissing her and pulling his jacket off at the same time.
Talk? His zeal resulted in a shovel and two shields crashing to the floor. “Ignore it,” he said.
Bristol laughed between kisses. “Everyone’s out there waiting.”
“Ten minutes max, I promise,” he said.
She scoffed. “You better count on fifteen,” she said as she shed her tunic and he snapped her bra free. In seconds, his trousers dropped to his ankles.
“What is this?” she asked, both amused and aroused by his eagerness. “Celebration sex?”
“Could be,” he said as his mouth slid down her throat. “How many kinds of sex are there?”
“Oh, I’m guessing a hundred at least.”
“Then we better pick up the pace, Keats.”