18. Chapter Eighteen
Iwoke to sweaty fingers sliding across my arm, warmth that bled through a hole in the tent, and a hollow feeling that suffocated me in my chest. There was a subtle breeze, but otherwise, it was still.
I felt violated by the way their hands grappled around my arm. I thrashed as soon as reality hit me in the face and, fortunately, they left me be. I looked at them wide-eyed, relief washing over me. I was still in the rebel camp—I was still okay.
Their hands hadn’t been taking hold of me for any other reason besides the bandages that laced my body, for the salve they’d rubbed over bruises and cuts and scrapes. Both nurses tightened their hold on the bandages in their hands before bowing their heads out of respect and scurrying from the tent. There were two other beds in here, but I was alone.
I swung my legs over the edge and caught my breath, mind whirring with recollections of what had happened. Over and over and over, I saw the stars swirling around the open air. I saw the torturous things I’d done to Lyra—
My head flicked to the bed nearest me, and I frowned. Where was she? What had I done?
I sputtered out a gasp and lunged off the cot too fast. The world swirled in my head, but I had to push through. I needed to get out here—to get out of this wretched tent and into fresh air. I hoped Lyra was okay.
That whatever happened to me wasn’t the reason for her demise.
I clutched onto the pole that supported the tent near the exit, squinting at the bright sun. Soldiers were all around, some frantically running around, others standing guard. A hollow feeling weakened my chest when I saw a pile of ash ahead of me, what had been a tent no more than brittle posts and burned burlap.
“Aurelie,” a voice called from my right. I turned my head and caught sight of Sapphire racing toward me. She was bandaged up too, her face riddled with tiny cuts and ash, but besides that, she seemed fine. I hissed out in pain when she hugged me. “Sorry,” she snapped and lunged backward, holding a hand to keep me upright. “I would have healed you, but my magic is spent.”
I furrowed my brow and returned my focus to the tent. “Where is Eero?”
“Preparing to move camp,” she said quietly. Her eyes drifted to the sky above, her lips squished into a pucker. “I’ve been doing everything I can to keep the glamour up, but it’s impossible without help.”
“And the barrier?” My voice was so raspy, it almost didn’t exist at all.
Sapphire cleared her throat. “You happened. All of this. It was you, Aurelie.”
The flashes of those final moments engulfed me again. It wasn’t a dream—it was real. I choked out a gasp. “And Lyra?” I trembled, knuckles turning white as I grabbed hold of that pole so hard, splinters of wood crunched beneath my hand. “And...and...”
“Weak. I don’t know if this is the right time to talk—”
“She’s alive?” I snapped, cutting her off, and closed my eyes. “She’s okay?”
Sapphire, again, hesitated. “Aurelie, she’s alive, but something happened to her when you unleashed that magic. Something was lost.”
That shadowy figure. It danced in the darkness behind my eyelids. It was taunting me—hissing at me, as if it were still right alongside me. I shuddered and forced my focus back on Sapphire, lips thinned into a line to keep them from shaking. “Sapphire, if I tell you something, can it stay between us?”
“What is it?”
“I…I saw something when I was losing myself to the magic. It was dark and twisted. It taunted me, as if it knew who I was, knew what I could do. It had no physical form—like a ghost—but it was terrifying.” I paused when a guard walked by, my gaze lingering after him before breathing out shakily. “It left Lyra’s body before attacking me.”
“What did it say?” she asked quietly, inching closer, our voices no higher than hushed whispers.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek and winced when I put too much weight on my right ankle. It was like my entire body had been shattered—sprained, twisted, broken. “Something about her children needing to find her within…magic? Darkness? Starlight? I—” I sputtered out in disbelief and shook my head wildly. “Fuck, I don’t know. I think she said all three…maybe more? Something about being sealed away.”
Sapphire’s face drained of color as I spoke my piece, lips parting as she nodded. She nodded, as if she struggled to keep up long after I finished my statement. I wondered if I was losing my mind, but when she drew her hand over her mouth and looked down, I saw the terror shadowing her face.
“There’s something you don’t know about our magic, Aurelie. Something a lot of people don’t—likely because it’s a myth, but I’ve seen it firsthand.”
I wanted to cry at this point, the pain shooting up my leg too much to ignore. I tried to put all my weight on the other leg, but that one hurt just as bad.
Sapphire glanced at me and moved to wrap an arm around my waist, guiding me back into the tent. I wanted to fight her—to venture further and let the sunlight warm my aching bones—but I knew it was unwise. Whatever happened to me was worse than my broken hand after Sólkon’s fury.
After I was situated on the cot’s edge, she joined me and cupped her hands in her lap. “My sister and I were raised separately, but we were closer than you could ever imagine. I was brought to the fae realm long before she’d created the Underfae. Different lives, but we had the same magic in our bones, in our hearts. Hers was…darker by the time we met and resolved our differences. She was already lost to it.”
I blinked, chewing on the inside of my lip. “Yenira always seemed like she was in control. Was that not the case?”
“It might be now, but it wasn’t when she was with Sólkon. That woman she ran off with, Azalea, was good for her, but during the war, I saw her descend into madness unlike any other. She was the mother of the Underfae, yes, but she was more than that. She was riddled with darkness that corrupted her in ways Sólkon never could. It urged her to do terrible things, to make enemies of people who were never against her. That’s what happened to me—and I wonder if it has found its way back to her.”
“You make it seem like she was…possessed.”
Sapphire finally met my stare, face as pale and straight as I’d ever seen before. “That is what I’m saying. What ruined her was not just toxic love. It was something dark and twisted, something beyond all our reach.” She turned and grabbed my cupped hands in her own, squeezing them slightly. “When I asked you to stay, I told you there were my own selfish reasons for it. You can help me get rid of my ties to Novus, the few that remain, but moreover…you can help me understand what’s happened to Yenira. I refuse to believe it’s a coincidence you grew up around her, that you were the one they found, despite your lack of training and magical knowledge.”
“I don’t get it—” I sucked in a breath when my voice failed me, frowning. “How does this relate to Yenira? To the magic?”
“There are myths that the fae tell their kin to make them behave. We say gods, but nobody truly knows who our creator is. We can speak of our gods of agriculture…fertility…war, but our creator, the mother who bled us into existence?” A small laugh. “Nobody is ready for that discovery—yet I feel it’s linked to the halflings these fae bastards so unwittingly yearn to control. They know we’re powerful, not the extent of our power, but that it merely exists. In theory. In hope. But if we discover the mayhem behind our magic, we can retake control.”
“Why do you think—”
Sapphire silenced me with nothing but her glare. “Don’t play me a fool, Aurelie,” she hissed. “You saw it clear as day. I had to learn my magic just the same as you—slowly, painfully. The chaos you are witnessing is not unheard of, but none of these fae kings will know how to save you from it.” Sapphire let go of my hands and cupped them over her heart. “Only you do. Yenira wasn’t strong enough to fight the darkness, but I was—and so will you be. We may be able to save Lyra from it, too, but that depends on her.”
I started laughing. It was slight, but it hurt my side, and I hunched over as I struggled to control it. “Sapphire, if I didn’t know you any better, I would have said you lost it.”
“Think about it, Aurelie!”
“I am!”
“I told you about the effects magic can have on our bodies. The red eyes, the perpetual aging, the silver hair. It’s all a consequence—of what, though? Think.”
My laughter started to slow, and I chewed on the tip of my tongue. After shaking my head, I sighed. “So let’s say I was entertaining this…theory, that there was some malevolent ghost looking to haunt all the halflings in the world. What next?” I gave her a sidelong glance and frowned. “Lyra is hurt, like you said. There is war…a rebellion. It’s just too much.”
Sapphire frowned. “Then we make it feasible, but we can only do that if you agree. It will be hard. It will be seemingly impossible at times. That said, it will answer many questions…perhaps even resolve tensions between the realms.”
I sighed softly and looked down at my abused body, from the bruises to the cuts and bandages. I wasn’t sure I was prepared to take more of this, but war wouldn’t wait for me to train, to get stronger.
It was up to me. The world was crashing down around me, suffocating me with uncertainty. In times like this, I sought the comforting hold of a woman who raised me as her own, who sheltered me from magic despite all the power coursing through her veins.
“One condition, Sapphire,” I said quietly as I looked at her. Sapphire waited in silence, crimson eyes hopeful and wide. “Something is missing from this, and I think it’s time we find a way to fill the gap. It’s the link that binds the war, magic, Yenira, Julius, and me all together. Without her, we can’t save those we care about. Without her, magic is only so useful.”
Sapphire shook her head slowly, lips parted in disbelief. She was sputtering for a second, struggling to find her words, but she closed her mouth and breathed through her nose. “Azalea will never return to this realm,” she said. “Not after what the fae did to her and her family.”
“Maybe not for them or even the war,” I said, picking at some dry skin on my palm. It calmed my racing mind, keeping me from falling into another panic attack. “But she just might for me.”