Chapter 14 #3
“And I recognize that,” she argued, more passionately than I’d ever heard her speak. “I understand now. I understand why you were so unhappy in New York. It was sterile. You were kept in a box that you didn’t fit in. And I’m sorry. We can fix that, if you just trust me. Just come back.”
My mother was looking at me like she truly saw me for the first time. There was an ache in my chest as I turned away.
“I love you,” I said. “I will always love you. But my life is here.”
Tears streamed down my face as I continued climbing. I left her sobbing behind me.
As I rose, I felt more confused than ever.
I had no idea what was real anymore—what was right, what was wrong.
I felt the very visceral sting of betrayal.
My mother’s words were the blanket of love and support that I’d longed for my whole life, and here I was, deliberately walking away from it.
For what? To be queen of an island where half the population didn’t even want me here?
I knew in my heart I belonged on The Isle, but seeing the people who had once been my whole world begging me to return, offering everything I’d ever wanted, shook my resolve more than I wanted to admit.
I climbed and climbed. I was nearing the summit. I was hungry. I was tired. I’d faced death more times in the last several weeks than I had in my entire life. Every decision felt impossibly heavy.
I kept climbing, trying to ignore the gnawing regret. Regret over the life I could’ve had, if only my mother had spoken like that sooner. Regret that I might be missing out on what we could be if I stayed.
I knew logically that this was a trial meant to test me, but my heart hadn’t gotten the memo.
It couldn’t see things in black and white, in rules and logic.
Not when it came to the emotional scars of my childhood.
Not when it came to the pieces of me I’d cobbled together to try to be a productive human being back in New York, to make sense of a life that sometimes felt pointless.
I didn’t want to strive for power or money; I had always wanted to make a difference.
I climbed higher, the whispers growing louder around me once again.
“Stop it,” I shouted. “I don’t want to hear from you. Any of you!”
The whispers got more aggressive. Louder. Persistent. They begged me to listen.
I clamped my hands over my ears and pushed through the noise until I looked up. I was near the top now. The mountain peak was tucked into the last wisps of cloud, with only clear blue sky beyond.
And there, at the peak, looking very solid indeed—stood Silas.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, so relieved to see the man I loved that I just about burst into tears. “Did Seer Goddard send you?”
“Not exactly.” Silas tilted his head just a little, giving me that coy, playful look he wore when he was in a good mood. “I just wanted to see you pass the second trial with my own eyes.”
I felt my heart warm as I looked at him.
“You’re exactly what I needed to see. I just encountered these mirages of Simon and my mom.
Even though I knew they weren’t real, they felt real.
The emotions were real, and—I’m sorry. I doubted myself for a minute, my life on The Isle, even though I shouldn’t have. ”
“It’s okay,” Silas said. “That’s natural, healthy to wonder. What matters is you stuck it out, you stayed the course. You are so strong, Alessia.”
Then Silas opened his arms, and I walked into them. He wrapped me up, holding me close, smelling just like I remembered—just like I’d imagined when I’d seen Simon but had been thinking about Silas.
“I didn’t know you’d be allowed to be in my trial,” I said. “This is a trial, right?”
“Yes. Air. The altitude, the climbing, the mirages. You’ve done it now; you made it to the top.”
“That’s it?” I said. “A little hike and a bit of past trauma coming back to haunt me?”
“Give yourself some credit.” Silas reached out, took my hand. “Let me take you home.”
I reached for him, to let Silas guide me back down the mountain. As we moved, however, something didn’t feel right. Something was off.
Everything about Silas looked right, smelled right. I imagined if I kissed him, it would even taste right. But it wasn’t right. When I told Silas that, he frowned.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “Of course this is right. You’re meant to be with me.”
“I know I’m meant to be with you,” I said slowly, “but this isn’t the end of my trial. I need to finish this alone.”
“Don’t you trust me?” Silas looked hurt. “I came up here to help you.”
Pain arced through me. I didn’t want to disappoint the man I loved. But what else could I do? I had to trust my gut. My instincts as a Fae Queen.
Silas would want me to do that. The real Silas would want me to do that.
I closed my eyes and placed my hands on him.
He felt firm, solid—but as I focused on those twinges of power, grasping at them like straws, I gasped.
Silas wasn’t real. When I sent out my tendrils of magic toward him, they went right through him. He was solid, but it was a complex illusion. When I used my magic, I found I could tear him apart like wisps from cotton candy. He was nothing but air.
He didn’t have a beating heart. No pulse of blood. No signs of life.
I worked on separating the air particles like I had when I first learned how to wrap air around the stone and the water. When I opened my eyes, I saw the man I loved disintegrating before me. Or rather, the image of him. It’s not Silas, I reminded myself.
It had never been Silas. Just like it hadn’t been my mother. Or Simon. It had all been a test to see if I would turn back. A test of resilience and illusions.
And as Silas disappeared, I saw the true top of the mountain, even higher than I’d expected. There sat a small gem, pink as the horizon at sunset. I took my final steps, reached for the gem. When I touched it, I felt a sensation of tugging behind my navel.
When I blinked again, I was back on the edge of the cliff where Seer Goddard had stood the first day, my toes hanging off the ledge, the sea crashing beneath me in deadly waves.
I’d done it.
I’d completed the second trial.