13. Chapter Thirteen
Lyra was cruel in the best way.
It hadn’t been longer than two hours, and my shins were bruised to the point I could feel my skin twitch. With each pounding beat of my heart, my muscles spasmed. Sweat lined my brow, stinging my eyes and burning under the warm afternoon sun. We hadn’t spoken about magic or why I was willing to endure such torturous exercises, but I was grateful for it.
Instead, Lyra yapped at me to straighten myself into a defensive stance. I rolled my shoulders, held my hands out, and bent my knees.
“Ready to give up yet, witchling?” she taunted.
I scowled and lunged forward, swinging the side of my hand at the center of her neck. She tried to parry, but her footwork was clumsy, and I landed the blow. She choked out but wasn’t stupid enough to let that hinder her. When I moved to trip her, she grabbed my forearm, twisting it until I was contorted on a knee before she pushed me to the ground. I hollered and smacked my hand on the ground, surrendering before she could do anything else.
I let the leaves cushion my cheek as I lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. Lyra backed away, returning seconds later to kneel in front of my face. I glanced up at her, eyeing the flask she was waving in front of me.
“Water, Aurelie. Drink it.”
I pushed myself onto my knees and winced, letting off my sprained wrist as soon as I was balanced. I accepted it and drank until my throat no longer ached. “You’ve been in the rebellion since it started?” I asked quietly. I tried to fathom how long Casynox and Eero had been rallying forces, but I came up short each time. Something of this scale dated back to the war between fae and humans—before Sólvon died and Eero was born.
“I promised to get revenge the day we found her body,” Lyra said as she straightened and stretched her legs. “Myra would do the same if it’d been me when the castle was infiltrated.”
When my heart slowed, I stood. “Was she a halfling too?”
“No,” Lyra said and smiled softly. “Half-sibling, but full-blooded fae. Our father was a drunken whore, and I’m the halfling bastard born of it.”
I limped to the table that held training swords and winced, hoping to the gods we weren’t sparring with them. My body was spent, but I’d never be the one to tell a woman like Lyra that. She was wicked, and I felt as if some of those attacks were personal, as if she was imagining Eero’s face over mine.
“So halflings live forever?” I questioned, my voice cracking with uncertainty. Sapphire and Yenira were the only two halflings I’d ever known personally—and even then, I never would have guessed Yenira was half-fae with her rounded ears. Yet they were both so old, I’d never try and count the years. Meanwhile, I had nightmares of my old, frail body out-aging Eero’s eternal one. “If you knew him as King Sólvon, you’re over two hundred years old.”
“Halflings can live as long as a full-blooded fae, but our mortal flaw is that beating heart in our chests. We die easier—silver or no.” Lyra joined me at the table and snatched the flask from my weak grip, taking a sip. “Emphasis on can. If you never found your magic, you’d age until your skin wrinkled like a raisin. You’ll be fine, though. Just have to keep harnessing that power in your soul.”
I turned my head and stared at her pointed ears, curling my lip into a pucker. “I have known two halflings before you, Lyra. One has pointed ears, the other doesn’t. Both are powerful, immortal creatures who have withstood the worst of wars. You say it’s in my magic, but I worry there isn’t enough in me to be like them.”
“That’s your first issue, Aurelie. You’re weak, whiney, and think like a human. There are rituals and magic if you really want to be more like them,” she said as she jerked her head toward the tents full of fae soldiers, “but it won’t matter if you don’t learn to get over that bias and fear in your heart.”
I felt like I’d been slapped in the face with nothing but her words. They were probably the nicest things she’d said—or done—to me since we started training, but the truth was cruel. It was harsh. It was true.
“We’re done for today,” she said, setting the flask down. She gave me a sidelong once over and shook her head. “Report back in the morning at dawn. It will be a long day, but we will rest your bones.”
“What will we do then?” I asked, my shoulders slumping at the thought of relief.
Lyra smiled wide and harshly, her teeth glittering in the afternoon sun. “Going to push you around a little more, Aurelie. We’re going to see what sort of magic is in that heart of yours.”