33 #2
I take another step back, just for good measure. And to make sure I won’t do something stupid like run right back into his arms and probably humiliate myself.
Then I say, “Please tell me what happened. Talk to me.” My voice has fallen low, and a part of me aches for him to tell me the truth.
Begs him to see that I’m a grown-up woman he can share his problems with.
His burdens. That even if I’m never going to be his lover, I could at least be his friend.
He let me in once. A little. And it hurts having lost that privilege.
Hurts as if something essential has been taken from me, like sunlight from a flower.
He looks at me for a very long time. His eyes skim over my face, my body, and I look down, not willing to see what I would find in his face. Pity. Frustration. While mine is swamped with treacherous heat.
“I think Caryan found the flute,” Riven says eventually.
My head snaps back up. “What?” Of all the possibilities I imagined, this one never even occurred to me.
The artifact I couldn’t find for Caryan the last time because I almost died and he had to abandon his search.
The one that’s hidden on Mount Silas, protected by vicious old magic and buried under layers of eternal ice.
“It’s one theory. He hasn’t been around much the last few months. I never found out where he disappeared to. But he took Merenia with him when he went, which would make sense, because if there’s one thing that can melt magical ice, it’s demonic fire.”
“Merenia?”
“The other shapeshifting demon that guards the fortress in Niavara.”
“Oh,” I say quickly, remembering too clearly the fierce, green dragon-demon and how it wanted to eat me and Blair as some kind of after-dinner dessert. Before Aris swept in and saved us. “And why is the world reacting as it is because he found it?”
Riven shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I do know is that it was like this the night Gatilla died—when all the stolen magic in the reservoir was freed, before it bound itself to Caryan and he became its new owner.
The amount of magic in that reservoir was so enormous it tilted the balance of magic in this world, especially once it became part of a man who already carried so much power. ”
I stare at him, then at the city below. I can’t see any damage from here, but I’m sure there will be a lot. “So—the problem is that one person possesses it?”
“I would guess it is. It’s not natural for a single creature to hold so much power. It changes the order of things, of this very world. Defies its laws.” He falls silent, his face etched into a deep frown.
I turn to look over my shoulder, only to have my heart startle for a few precious beats.
“What the fuck is that ?” I breathe, staring at an enormous rip in the sky, wavering there like a black cloud, shaped like a wound, or a tear in wallpaper.
It’s gracing the sky like an ugly, vast scar, undulating at the edges.
“This is a rip of worlds. It just tore open,” Riven says darkly.
“Is there a way to, I don’t know, close it?”
“No.”
“But angels can close and destroy whole worlds. Caryan should be able to repair it. At least repair the damage he’s done.”
“We don’t know it was him,” Riven cuts in sharply.
“And it has to stay a secret. Promise me, Melody. I can’t have you tell anyone.
” Sudden panic swims in his eyes, and my heart sinks.
That he would even think I would betray him.
To Caryan, of all people. Sure—so that the fae world’s most beautiful psycho could hurt him.
“Of course, it’s safe with me; don’t worry. But can Caryan close it? Hypothetically?”
“I don’t think so. I guess if anyone could close those rips, they’d have done so already.
The problem is, it’s like a current. When the balance of magic tilts, the current of wild magic grows stronger.
Various theories on the topic say that, if anyone somehow managed to close it, it would just burst open somewhere else. ”
I shudder, rubbing my arms to get warm, only now feeling the cold. In the archives, it’s always pleasantly warm—the campus no doubt makes sure we never feel uncomfortable. But I didn’t grab my jacket and, thin as I am, I feel the cold more acutely.
Riven shrugs off his jacket and gently puts it around my shoulders. I suppress the instinct to bury my nose in the fabric and inhale his scent like some kind of addict. What’s wrong with me? But his scent is the best thing I’ve ever smelled. Apart from Caryan’s.
But where Caryan smells untamed and wild, like a sky lashed by lightning and enveloped in a cyclone, Riven smells safe. And beautiful. Of stars glittering over meadows, or rivers under moonlight. Like all the good things there are in this world, warming my soul.
I gasp as Kyrith teleports into existence before us, making my heart leap into my throat.
“Damn it, there you are. I’ve been looking for you all over. Daphina called a crisis council. Where the hells is Caryan?”
Riven’s face shifts into something so cold he looks like a monster. I don’t miss the way he protectively steps closer to me when Kyrith looks at me.
“Why would I know where Caryan is?” he asks after a taut beat.
“Because you’re his right hand.”
“I think you’re well aware that no one knows where Caryan is.”
“Yeah, well aware,” Kyrith shoots back. “But you’re the placeholder to warm his throne when he’s not around. So you have to come. Now.”
“There will never come a moment when I take an order from you,” Riven says, voice like a blade. “And since you mentioned it—I am the throne holder in his absence. Adjust your tone to something suitable for addressing a monarch.”
Kyrith growls. “Be serious. We need to get back. They’re meeting now, and you standing here with a student while the town panics is more than inappropriate.”
Riven’s stare is pure hate. Whatever happened during my year away, it’s not a simple power play. It’s personal. It’s raw. Riven’s started to hate Kyrith. “Get lost, Kyrith, before I have you executed for impudence.” Riven’s tone is close to a growl.
Kyrith’s eyes widen, and I, too, realize that it probably wasn’t an empty threat, since fae can’t lie. He straightens, but I find fear flickering in Kyrith’s aura, and he’s not someone who’s easily rattled.
“We seriously have to do something about the wards now that a damn rip is so close to the town, Your Majesty . They’re wavering as it is.
Even more after that shockwave of magic that just erupted.
They’ve taken the brunt, and the damage in town is moderate, but they’re weaker than ever.
If there were a Palisandrean attack now, we’d be doomed. ”
“I said leave ,” Riven snarls. Black fire jumps to life, dancing over his wings, arms, and shoulders.
Kyrith vanishes without another blink.
Riven’s throat works, and he closes his eyes for a few seconds, as if he truly has to gather himself.
The flames finally die and he looks at me.
He inhales one last time, deeply, before he holds out his hand to me.
“I need to go back. See how severe the damage is. Things are likely to change with a rip that close to Avandal.”
“What about those wards?” I ask before we can leave and I have to go back to not attending his classes and ignoring him. Which makes me feel as miserable as I probably can be.
“The magical wall around Avandal is powered by wards. Yet the wall has been damaged severely and—” He pinches his brows as if to keep himself from continuing.
I give him time, don’t push this time. But I see that it’s weighing down on his shoulders.
On his soul. One of the many things he has to burden.
He finally looks back at me. “This needs to stay between the two of us, Melody.”
I just nod once, and it is as if a knot in my stomach has dissolved. He lets me in. He truly lets me in.
“Queen Daphina is no longer powerful enough to keep a wall up around her kingdom. Not with the onslaught of attacks. Her power has been waning and depleting severely over the last months.”
“What attacks?”
He sighs, but then his shoulders slump. “Well, I might as well give you the full picture. Palisandre has sided with a few remaining Nefarian warriors.”
“Shiera’s people? The renegades that attacked us?”
“No. Shiera split with them. There’s been another group, kept alive by Palisandre and King Lorvil himself to fight for him.
They’re led by King Kallian. He and his cadre are some of the best warriors this world has ever seen, and very powerful fae as it is.
They’ve been attacking the walls over the last months, managing to tear holes big enough to slip through.
They also attacked every ship that left the harbors.
There’s no more trade between the continents.
All of them were looted and then left to sink once they left the security of Caryan’s wall. ”
“And Daphina? Why is she getting weaker?”
Riven shakes his head. “I don’t know. It might be an illness.
She has been one of the most powerful earth-wielders this world has ever seen.
But she has no heirs, no one else to take her place.
And her soldiers—they’re not exactly fit for battle yet.
Avandal has been living a dream, deeming themselves safe.
They’ve gotten lazy. Caryan sent us here to train them as well, but it’s not something you can accomplish overnight. ”
Riven rubs his face, looking tired again. “No one else seems to notice, but I know her. Her power is fading, and that’s why she can’t repair the walls. And even for our most talented ward-wielders and spell-weavers, weaving walls like this takes weeks. We don’t have time between new attacks.”