60. Change Needs Action
The castle walls and then the city opened up outside the carriage window. Lyra had half her body hanging out to get a better look. She hadn’t been able to explore as she had liked during the disaster that had been Ostara or the tour before.
It was silent in the Upper District. Large trees dotted the pathway, and the stone of the buildings gleamed in the early morning light. There were flower boxes on some of the large windows. The bright colors of violets and poppies added much-needed color against the grey stone.
There were also very few elves out, and the ones she saw lounged on balconies sipping piping hot tea. They all resembled Maelys in a way, with fair skin and ethereal beauty.
But as they continued, the street became narrower, the buildings closer together. The sun no longer gleamed on the gray stone due to the buildup of lichen and algae.
It was busier in the Lower District, too. People were already out and about, setting up markets or going about their daily chores. A few were camped out on street corners—begging.
The elves here resembled Otto or Ridge.
Tree-bark-like skin or the outward characteristics of magic.
Lyra frowned and sat back in her seat.
“What’s that face for?”
“I didn’t realize class divisions existed here.”
Wilder tilted his head, and a divot formed between his brows.
“Societal classes,” Lyra clarified. “I don’t know why I expected any differently. Especially given their names ‘Upper and Lower’.”
Realization dawned on Wilder’s face, and he nodded.
“It’s repugnant.”
Lyra blanched. She hadn’t expected him to agree with her, especially given his countenance and the disagreement they had had the night before.
“I’ve mentioned it to my father too many times. He won’t do anything about it. And contrary to your opinion, I am not him.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“What can I do? I’m just a Prince.”
Lyra shook her head and sighed in exasperation. “You’re a male. There is a lot you can do—if you’re not changing it, you are choosing it.”
She could see that her words had made their expected blow, but he didn’t react in the way she expected him to.
Ire glowed in his eyes. “I could say the same about you.”
“Me?” she squeaked. “I’m just a female. And your captive, in case you have forgotten.”
“Oh, that’s moronic, and you know it.” He crossed his arms.
She couldn’t believe her ears. He had the audacity to think she wasn’t a victim in her circumstances. The male who kidnapped her!
“We both know with a tug on that thread of magic in you—you could change everything.”
Lyra’s mouth snapped shut.
“You have power—limitless power—and you choose to do nothing. Gods, Legs, you could command the plants to grow, the wind to blow, and the moon to rise, and it would happen. With a snap of your fingers, the atrocities committed against your own kind would cease to exist. So don’t lecture me on my privilege. ”
Lyra shook her head, her eyes lined with tears. “It’s not that simple,” she whispered.
“Then enlighten me.”
“If I use it—I will never stop. It will corrupt me and twist me into something that not even your worst nightmares could depict. Something as simple as commanding it not to rain. What if that makes a plant die, and the animal that needed that plant will now die, and the predator that would eat that animal might starve? I could disrupt entire ecosystems!” Wilder scoffed.
“But you want to know why I won’t even the score between my kind?
The last time I truly used it, a male was killed. And it was all my fault!”
Wilder blinked.
He opened his mouth and then shut it. If she weren’t afraid of what she had admitted, it would be comical seeing him gape like a fish.
“How?”
Tears of rage stung her eyes. “I don’t know. I was a child myself. I just remember he wouldn’t get off me—he wouldn’t listen—and then darkness. When I came to, he was dead, and my father was dragging me to that sea witch. I never touched it again. No matter how bad it got. I couldn’t be trusted.”
“So you’d rather let the males unleash horrors … and not even try to stop it? I hadn’t pegged you as a coward, Legs.”
Lyra swallowed and turned away from him. “I’m not a coward. I just refuse to be a murderer,” she muttered.
Peering out the window, the rolling hills gave way to the thicket, and a shadow blanketed their journey. A cloud overhead descended. Rain was on its way.
She could feel his eyes on her, prodding and questioning, but she didn’t have it in her to speak any longer. He wouldn’t understand.
No one would ever understand the burden she carried and the endless responsibility that was imminent the moment she began using her magic.
The rocking sway of the carriage, coupled with the darkening sky, had Lyra sinking further into the plush cushion of the seat and leaning her head back.
She didn’t even try to keep her eyes open as sleep tugged her under and her breath slipped out in a slow and steady rhythm.