Chapter 55 #3
“I honored her by keeping her secret. But then everyone blamed me because I knew what she was going to do, and they didn’t.
Wolfe, and maybe Alaric, believe I waste my life by not being the standard Fae noble.
I disagree. In my eyes, my mother gave me a second chance at life, and I want to live it the way I want. To the fullest.”
“I would be the same.”
She seemed to appreciate my response. “When Wolfe and I argue, he always brings up our mother, and I… I feel bad enough as it is. The last time was terrible. That’s why I need space and time. The blight will catch up with me eventually, but I still have a few decades yet, thanks to my mother.”
Her words moved me, and I reached for her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I understand completely. I’m so sorry for what happened.”
“Thank you. Gods, listen to me. I didn’t expect you to be the one comforting me.”
“And I’m about to take it one step further.” I handed her a muffin from the tray. “Take this. Sirril made it this morning.”
“Gods be good. Sirril is the most amazing cook. Everything he makes tastes like heaven.”
I nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “Hopefully, a little taste of home will make you feel better.” I was paying Wolfe’s idea forward. He always got Sirril to make me food from home to make me feel better. I hoped it would do the same for his sister.
“You’re the best. You truly are.” Zyrra’s face brightened, and she seemed more like herself. “A little taste of home definitely helps.”
“I’m glad. I hope to sit with you in the manor one day and enjoy a real meal.”
She laughed out loud. “Are you inviting me to dinner?”
“I am inviting you to dinner.”
“A muffin and an invite to dinner. Thank you, Elariya. You’ve really cheered me up.” She placed a hand to her heart and grinned. “And I should probably leave you now to get back to your studies.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m going over basic conjuring. I’m having a little trouble controlling my powers.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Really? You seem perfectly balanced to me. I mean, I can’t pick up anything that’s not flowing as it should, especially for basic conjuring.”
“Well, at least that’s good to hear. I think I’m just trying to run before I walk, and not in a good way. I’ve been told to slow down.”
“Show me what you mean.”
“Gods, it’s embarrassing.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s just me here.” She flicked her wrist and smirked. “Think of it as a practice session with someone who is obsessed with conjuring.”
“Are you really?”
“Oh, yes. Come on, show me.”
I set the book on the table and sat up. “Here goes. I’m just going to conjure a rose on the table.”
“Go for it.”
I opened my palms, felt that inner spark that connected me to my powers, and repeated the incantation slowly. “Vereverto al vero, verviereai.”
Zyrra and I watched as a tiny brown stalk sprouted on the table, looking as if it was growing from the wood itself.
Leaves and petals appeared next, unfurling until a beautiful red rose bloomed to full magnificence.
Before I could even feel excited, the petals turned black and shriveled, then the stalk flopped over, lifeless and limp.
My shoulders slumped as I stared at the dead flower, then I looked up at Zyrra. "See what I mean? Out of balance. I can't even keep the flower alive for more than a minute before it withers away. It's like time fast-forwards straight to death."
Zyrra leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowing in interest. Then something shifted in her gaze, and she picked up one of the blackened petals. She inspected it, and a spark of realization entered her eyes.
“You really did fast-forward straight to death.”
“Well, yeah.”
“No… not like that. Look at this.” Zyrra leaned closer, her fingers hovering over the blackened petals. “Elariya... these markings. Do you see these fine lines etched into the petals?"
I stared at the lines she pointed out, not quite understanding where she was going with her explanation. “I see them.”
"They’re temporal markings. We call them Chronos lines.
They show the passage of time. Like growth rings on trees.
It’s more common to see it on flowers in Galaythia because of the magical connection to nature.
This flower you conjured…” Her eyes beamed with wonder.
“This flower shows twenty years of aging, Elariya. It lived twenty years in less than a minute.”
The blood drained from my face. "Twenty years of life? In one minute?" My voice came out as barely a whisper.
“Yes.”
"How did I? I didn't know I could... I didn't mean to..."
Blessed Mother. How in the hells did I do that?
But… it was like everything else that had happened with me so far—unusual. Wolfe said I came from an ancient blood line. Maybe that had something to do with this.
So, what kind of magic did I have?
“This is so exciting.” Zyrra clapped her hands.
“It is. And shocking. I surprise myself, and I—”
A cold shiver ran down my spine, and a feeling of wrongness settled in the pit of my stomach.
“What is it?” Zyrra asked, noticing the sudden change in my mood.
I couldn’t answer. That feeling of dark discomfort twisted my insides, and I recalled what Arielle told me about Dreynthor’s spies.
One was here.
Zyrra looked around and narrowed her eyes, then she reached for my hand and tapped my knuckles. “Someone’s here. Someone who shouldn’t be,” she whispered.
I nodded.
“I don’t know if it’s one of my uncle’s spies.” She spoke carefully, eyes wide. “It doesn’t feel like them.”
Gods, yesterday, Marcus warned that Wolfe was being watched. Maybe we were all being watched. That would make sense. Watch him and all those close to him.
“Get up and go, Elariya. Don’t look back.” Zyrra kept her voice whisper soft. “Just act natural and head to the carriage. Once you’re inside, get Garrick. Make sure he waits with you until Arielle comes, then go straight home and tell Wolfe.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll go back to the island. I’ll see you as soon as I can. Go now.”
I did as she said, picking up my things and leaving.
I didn't look back, but every instinct screamed that I should. As I walked away, the wrongness in my stomach only grew stronger, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was running toward danger, not away from it.
And somewhere in the shadows of my mind, a voice that wasn't quite my own whispered, “Soon.”