Chapter Nineteen Bahira
My steps are soft as I pace my room, frustration a gnawing headache that pounds at my head.
“Fucking useless books,” I growl, immediately regretting my words as if the tomes stacked on my nightstand can hear them.
Sighing, I pause at the center of my room.
Between Nox still stuck in this “deep sleep” as the healers have called it, Councilman Kallin cornering me the day before and all but demanding that I come in to brief them on my time in the Shifter Kingdom, my rampant thoughts on the blood and magic and the Spell, and the incessant memories of Kai that only want to reveal themselves when I’m at my most exhausted and can’t fight them off, I feel as if I’m not just stretched too thin but like I’m being pulled apart.
And the aforementioned books aren’t helping matters.
They are the ones that Elisha thought might be helpful regarding the relationship between blood and magic.
While there technically are mentions of the two, it is just more of the same warning I had heard repeated growing up.
Elisha was right. I am going to have to request access to our kingdom’s archives.
It is a place that houses ancient artifacts, some dating back many millennia.
While I can’t be positive there will be enough information hidden within the restricted space to help me bridge the connection between magic and blood, what I do know is that any time a portion of the history is restricted, it’s likely that the people in power are not giving the full truth as to why.
Death may very well be the outcome when tampering with these two things, but something deep in my gut tells me that there is more to the story.
Tilting my head back, I let out a ragged sigh. The only way I will know for sure is to access the archives. And the only way I will be able to do that is by way of a councilman.
At least on that front, I do have one person on my side.
I shower and quickly dress, and with the beginnings of a plan formulating in my head, I start downstairs to make my first stop of the day.
Palace guards are still crawling around the foyer and halls, groups of them clustered at the few entrances on the first level.
I walk with my head held high, my eyes meeting those who pass.
Some of them dip their chins in greeting, others regard me with a glance that I swear borders on wary.
I know I’ve entered the healers’ wing when I’m hit with the bitter scent of cleaning alcohol and the air chills to a temperature that rivals an autumn evening. My fingers flex instinctively at my sides as I near the room holding Nox, the door opening as a man in a deep brown robe exits.
“Galen!” I call out, quickening my steps to meet the older mage, his eyes widening in surprise when they meet mine.
“Princess Bahira, it is lovely to see you.” He hides his trembling hands within the sleeves of his robes as he brings them together in front of him, his gray eyes glassy from age.
“How is he?”
The palace healer smiles sadly at me, and my heart dips.
“No different, I’m afraid,” he says with a sigh, shaking his head.
I swallow back my disappointment and fear as my gaze moves to the door.
“Even the most powerful have weaknesses. I suppose it was only a matter of time before we found the prince’s.
But don’t worry, we’ve got the best of the best looking out for him. ”
He pats my shoulder before ambling away, and I blink back the pressure building behind my eyes as I reach for the handle to the door.
I spot Cass first, his white-blond hair pulled up into a ponytail while a few loose tendrils frame his face.
He offers me a tired grin, one that I mirror as I shut the door behind me and walk to the foot of the bed. “How is he?”
“Did you see Galen leave?”
“I did,” I respond, looking Nox over where he lies in perfect stillness. “But I want to hear it from you.”
Cass releases a breath, his shoulders slumped beneath an invisible weight. “Nothing has changed. Not physically or magically, and I can’t help—” His mouth closes abruptly, but not before I catch the tremor in his voice. The uncertainty in it.
“Can’t help what?”
He looks over at Nox from where he sits at the side of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. I give him the time to formulate his thoughts as I watch the steady rise and fall of Nox’s chest.
“I can’t help but wonder if this is more than just him overexerting his magic,” he finally says, the words hardly louder than a whisper.
“In what way?” I ask, just as quietly.
“I have seen your brother in nearly every setting but war. True war. And I thought I had also seen him use his magic to near capacity.” I raise my brow in question, folding my arms over my chest. Cass huffs out a small laugh, the smile on his face good to see, even though it only lasts for a few seconds. “He practiced a lot with it—”
“I’m aware,” I drawl, tilting my head.
He smirks. “Well, what you might not know is that sometimes he and I would walk deep into the forest. I’m talking the kind of deep where the treetops aren’t just woven together but the trunks right beneath them are too.
Where light is scant and the air is silent of all noise except what the forest wants you to hear.
” He slips into the voice he uses when telling a story, its lilt just a bit lower.
“And we went there because, occasionally, Nox would have this urge to use his magic in a way that he didn’t normally. ”
“What do you mean?” Growing up, it was hardly uncommon for Nox and Cass to venture out together for days at a time, but I had never assumed it was for anything other than a need to explore.
“He said it felt like his magic was suffocating and that if he didn’t heed its call to be used in the way it wanted to, he would go mad.
We trekked to secluded spots where he wouldn’t be spotted, and it was…
” He shakes his head in near disbelief. “Incredible. His power would flow out of him, swaths of dark purple and black magic blanketing the forest for what felt like miles. Stars above, maybe it was for miles. Sometimes, he’d simply blanket the earth with his power for minutes, and other times, he would mold it.
Morph it to mimic the trees and animals.
” His icy blue eyes hold mine, awe shining in them.
“He created a world based entirely in shadows. His magic has always been something otherworldly, Bahira, but this was on a different scale. I’m struggling with the idea that the magic he released at the beach put him in such a state.
Not when I’ve seen what he can really do. ”
I take in his story about my brother, turning the information over in my head.
“I think we have to approach it from a different place of understanding his magic,” I muse, rounding the opposite side of the bed from Cass and placing my hand over my brother’s.
His skin is cool beneath my touch, and he doesn’t stir at all.
“From what I gathered, Nox fled the palace in search of Rhea the moment he realized she was gone. He wasn’t in his right mind.
He was in a place of desperation. Perhaps, that is the difference. ”
Cass gives a noncommittal nod, and my heart falters a beat at the devastation on his face.
“He’ll be okay.” Looking down at Nox, I give his fingers a squeeze as I release a shaky breath. “He has to be.”
Leaving is hard, but Cass promises to send for me the moment Nox wakes up.
I shiver as I descend the palace stairs, the temperature pleasant but the coating of unease that follows me not so easily dispersed.
The guards at the bottom of the steps separate to let me pass, dappled light from above dotting the white stone path as I make my way to my workshop.
I think of Cass’s story and internally grimace that I had no idea my brother’s magic affected him that way.
I had read past recollections of the balance of magic—back when it was more robust amongst our people and not dwindling away year after year—that spoke to the effect of not using your magic for a long time.
To curb that, most mages used small magic on a daily basis.
Though I didn’t take the courses myself for obvious reasons, early education teaches of the dangers of going long periods of time without using your magic.
I had always assumed that the talk of someone going mad was a bit facetious.
It doesn’t seem so out of the realm of possibility now.
Walking up to the door of my workshop evokes a feeling of coming home all its own.
This place where so many failures and so few victories are kept has always been a refuge for me.
Despite the less-than-stellar progress I’ve made on my own inquiries, I still feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest when I step across the threshold.
It smells the same as it always has, like the forest and something metallic.
I haven’t spent time here since returning, nothing beyond quickly putting away my magnifier and some of the glass jars of experiments from the shifter isle.
Dragging my fingers along the scarred wooden tabletop, I take inventory of everything that remains.
In a corner on the countertop rests the glass jars filled with dead and decaying leaves, remnants of the last experiment I had done with magic.
Cobwebs are tucked into the corners of the ceiling, perhaps a realistic representation of how little advancement I have made with finding my magic.
A thin layer of dust coats every surface, prompting me to open one of the windows and grab a cloth to begin cleaning everything off.
I’m a few minutes into the process, focused on how I might organize my next test, when a small voice interrupts the silence, and I let loose a surprised yelp, my cloth flying from my hand as I come face to face with Starla.
Her dark eyebrow arches, a disappointed look crossing her face. “I would have thought that you of all people, Bahira, would know when someone is behind you.”
I scoff, folding my arms over my chest. “I don’t expect to be ambushed in my own shop.”
She has the audacity to shrug, sliding one of her pointer fingers over the dust covering the table and scrunching her brows in response. “Well, you did offer me a job before you left. I wanted to make sure you made good on it.”
“I—” Shit. The memory of me doing just that jumps to the forefront of my mind.
I look over the little girl as I rest my hip against the edge of the table.
Her hair has grown longer in the months since I’ve seen her, the little brown ringlets now dangling down to her midback.
She’s dressed in dark trousers and boots, her top a size too big in a light green color that hangs down to her hips.
The orphanage must be low on clothing for girls her age, so I make a mental note to speak with my father and make sure we get them everything they need.
She mirrors my stance, her mannerisms making her appear so much older than she is.
“When I offered you that job, I hadn’t known I was going to be leaving for the Shifter Kingdom. Things have changed a bit since then.”
Her face falls for only a second before she fixes it into an impressive one of indignance. “So what? Are you saying that you don’t want me to work with you anymore?”
“No. I’m saying, I don’t know what kind of job I can give you.” Then, more to myself than her, I add quietly, “I’m not even sure what I’m doing here.”
“Well,” she says, pausing as she tilts her head up towards the ceiling. A few moments pass as she thinks. “What’s a problem you still need to solve?”
I can’t help but chuckle, turning to grab my thrown cloth. “I have more problems than you can possibly imagine. I’m just… stuck.”
Starla nods, as if she completely understands. Fuck, maybe she does. I remember how cruel the other kids were to her when I found them fighting outside of my workshop. No matter how tough she pretends to be, their words will linger like thorns beneath the skin. I would know.
“Well I’m not much of a scientist like you, but sometimes, when I’m stuck on a problem in school, I like to remind myself that just because I don’t know the answer right now, doesn’t mean I’m not smart enough to find it. The answer is there; I just have to try harder.”
I cock my head to the side, a grin tugging on the corner of my mouth. “That’s true. Unknowns are just the things we haven’t yet explored.”
“Exactly. You’re the smartest person in this kingdom and the only one who does experiments. So if anyone can figure out what you need to figure out, I know it will be you.”
I clear my throat and turn to walk to the back of the room, pulling a drawer open and grabbing a second cloth from it.
Starla’s belief in me is sweet, even though I might wonder if it’s misplaced.
But she showed up here ready to work, and I’ll be damned if I turn away a girl who’s interested in learning.
“Here,” I say, tossing the towel her way. She catches it, eyes growing wide. “While we finish cleaning this place up, you can tell me how you happened upon my workshop at the exact moment I got here. And then we are going to test a few things.”