Chapter 27
Sylvia
Despite a bone-deep exhaustion I worried I would never fully recover from, I slept restlessly and woke before the rest of the house. At least— most of the house.
I thought I had been stealthy when I slipped out of Jon’s room to watch the sunrise the next morning, but Hazel was on my heels almost at once. My heart melted a little bit at the idea that she had been waiting for me to wake up, eager to spend every moment by my side that she could.
I felt the same—happy to make up for every agonizing moment I worried that I’d never get to see her again at all.
I tucked my legs close, seated next to my sister at the edge of a table that gave a dazzling floor-to-ceiling view of the altered environment outside.
The warm colors of sunrise had brightened into full morning.
Snow fell in the distance. How strange to see the precise line where the gemstone’s influence had no power.
I wondered what would happen once its offerings flowed into me. It had taken mere hours for its presence to rewrite the terrain outside Delilah’s home. Within a couple of days, the weather and vegetation would be as they should be.
And I would be…
Human. I would be human.
A bird landed on the windowsill outside with a gentle tap, making my fingers pause halfway through braiding Hazel’s thick red hair. We both straightened as it tilted its head, spotting us through the glass with round black eyes.
It must’ve been a cardinal—or at least, it used to be. The bright red plumage was now altered by the strange magic as much as the climate; streaked with gold and silver feathers as intricate as a peacock’s. Hazel gave a coo of intrigue when the bird moved, fanning its tail.
“Can you feel what that one’s thinking?” I asked, resuming weaving locks of hair.
“Animal affinities aren’t mind readers,” she giggled. But she fell quiet—staring. “I think he wants to come inside.” Hazel glanced over her shoulder at me, giving me a pleading look.
“No way,” I chuckled. “Birds are never friendly to fae. Besides, I doubt Delilah would be keen on inviting in every creature that passes through.”
“Hummingbirds are nice!”
“Alright, one exception for hummingbirds.”
The cardinal took wing, a brilliant flash of red and gold as it fluttered out of sight. Hazel wilted a little, but relaxed into my touch as I put the finishing touches on her braid.
“You said it was a bird you felt when you first discovered your affinity, right?” I asked, softening my voice—trying to mask the pain of missing such a crucial moment.
Hazel nodded, scooting around to face me again.
“It was some time after Louisiana. I remember Father was complaining about your hunters changing cars. We were outside, eating lunch, when I heard a hatchling calling for its mother. Only I didn’t just hear it—all of a sudden, I felt it!
” Hazel’s eyes went wide, her little hands gesturing wildly as she recounted.
“Mother and Father were all upset when I started sobbing out of nowhere, and they didn’t understand until I pointed out the lost chick.
I thought I was broken until they realized what was happening.
And once they helped me focus, I was able to calm the chick down. ”
Her freckled cheeks glowed with pride, and I beamed, squeezing her shoulders. “Of course you did. You were born for this.”
How baffling to picture the three of them sharing a picnic lunch while trailing my meandering journey with Jon and Cliff.
Not for the first time, jealousy stabbed me at the image of Hazel enjoying the dual attentions of Mother and Father—unbound by any strict regulations of Elysia.
The childhood she was meant to have. I imagined them cutting jam sandwiches and remarking on the human oddities they came across at various motels.
Immediately, guilt swept over any envy. Those moments Hazel had these past months were far from idyllic, on the run from place to place without stop. And it had all been for my sake.
“What was it like?” I probed, still keeping my tone light. “You know… Traveling with Father. Did you take the news better than me? I almost passed out yesterday when I saw his face!”
We shared stilted laughter, equal parts self-aware and still tender.
“Well, I didn’t know it was him at first,” Hazel admitted, seeming a little embarrassed at the fact.
“But he was really nice, right from the start! He’s funny, too.
I’ve even seen him make Mother laugh more than I’ve seen her do in years.
He was always buying me gifts and ice cream when we stopped in a new city.
” She stopped short, eyes going wide. “Sylvia, have you tried ice cream? It’s delicious. Sweeter than wildberry tarts and cold!”
I laughed, imagining that I’d worn that same manic excitement the first time I’d tried the dessert. “Wait until you try milkshakes.”
Hazel refocused, seeming to force her thoughts away from sweets with great effort. “Anyway, for weeks, Mother just told me he was an old friend of hers. And I—I believed them.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “I guess I didn’t remember him enough to know the difference.”
I grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You were only two when he vanished.”
“I know,” she mumbled, shrugging. At nearly twelve summers now, I supposed the weight of such a thing was becoming tangible.
“I cried a lot when they finally told me the truth. I was really angry and confused. I think we all cried a lot that night, though. After thinking about it, I realized I’d rather have him different than not have him at all. ”
It was spoken so simply, yet it cut straight through the storm still tightening around my own heart. Anger and confusion didn’t begin to cover it, but Hazel was right. There was a lot of good that came with the bad, too.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s a lot to take in.”
Hazel leaned around me to peer down the hallway that led to the bedrooms, then dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Mother refuses to admit it, but I think she wants him to stay. Like, stay forever again.”
My eyebrows lifted. “Really? She kept saying he was one move away from being target practice when he tried to carry her to bed last night.”
She snickered, waving a hand. “She’s been saying that for months now. But she stares at him a lot when he’s not looking. And one time the other week, I caught him kissing her goodnight, and she didn’t stop him. I think she even liked it.”
Hazel’s smile became utterly wicked, her arms folded over her chest. I couldn’t help but grin back at her–even if, truthfully, I was struggling to wrap my head around what that would look like.
After years of thinking Father gone, the idea of the four of us being a full family again felt like a dream I scarcely deserved.
“Is it true you’ve seen a vampire?” Hazel asked, some of the laughter fleeing her expression.
I suppressed a shiver, remembering the brutal coven in the abandoned video rental store, along with their ruthless, centuries-old leader, Giovanni.
I could still feel the icy weight of his gaze when he’d untethered his power to speak directly into my mind that night—before Jon had cleaved his head from his body.
“Several, unfortunately,” I said.
“What were they like? How many fangs do they have?”
“No way, it’ll give you nightmares!” I gasped, giving her shoulder a playful shove.
Hazel pouted, but mischief still sparked behind her slate-blue eyes. “You know… If you don’t tell me, I can always get Cliff to spill the details. I’ve already got him to let me taste whiskey.”
“Hazel!”
“It was only a tiny sip!”
She seemed so utterly proud of herself, I didn’t have the heart to reproach her further.
I was still piecing together how I might recount a monster hunt that wouldn’t traumatize my little sister when a soft scuff caught my ear.
Footsteps. The smell of coffee hit me next. Over the past months, that scent would have indicated Jon or Cliff, but I had learned their gaits well enough to understand this was neither of them. The footsteps paused in the hallway. Hesitated. Then resumed.
A chair scraped away from the table, and I peeked over my shoulder, unsurprised to see Father tentatively setting down a mug of black coffee.
“I can’t believe how early you two are up. It’s criminal,” he said, offering a crooked smile between us. “May I join you?”
While Hazel squeaked happily and flew up to nuzzle his cheek in greeting, I still struggled to find my voice at the mere sight of him. I cleared my throat and nodded, gesturing at the seat before him.
“Where’s Mother?” Hazel asked, landing next to me again.
“Still sleeping,” Father said. “Let her rest. You know how much she needs it.”
Hazel nodded, and quiet fell over the table. Father regarded me for several long moments as though still trying to make up for years of being unable to see me. Then his eyes drifted to the snow in the distance. A forlorn smile tugged at his lips.
“Do you miss being an ice affinity?” I asked, my voice again feeling weak—so unsure what to say to him.
But my curiosity was genuine. My insides twisted at the thought of what it would feel like to be cut off from such a crucial part of myself.
As much as I wanted—needed—this, the number of sacrifices had never seemed piled so high until now.
Father grappled for an answer. “I’ve gotten used to its absence.” He said it with the same heaviness of a person who was still grieving a long-lost loved one. He cleared his throat, tone lightening. “The mild glamour I’m able to wield over humans is like a faint memory of what I used to have.”
“He used it to tell the motel owner to let us stay for free!” Hazel declared. “He did that a lot, actually.”
Father’s smile turned sheepish—almost wincing at Hazel’s words. “It’s not much magic at all, really, but yes, it has been immeasurably useful. Particularly of late.”
My answering smile was weaker. I’d first seen him use that ability to tell one of Eros’ guards to get down on the floor of the truck before ending his life. The father I’d lost had wounded foxes and snakes outside Elysia at worst. Who was this man, who knew how to kill so effectively, so brutally?
Father’s expression warmed toward me, though he clearly chose his words carefully.
“I can still remember clear as day when I taught you how to control snow flurries. I could hardly believe how quickly you took to it. You reined one in so strong that it swept you right off your feet. Days after discovering your affinity, too.”
Despite everything, a laugh threatened to escape. The memory—all the memories—of how he had trained me came rushing back in. “I’m lucky the snow softened my landing. I barely had a handle on my flight back then. You taught me well.”
I unsheathed my dagger and held it up for his inspection. His eyes widened.
“I’ll never forget how furious Mother was about this gift,” I tacked on, raising my eyebrows at him.
He chuckled around a sip of coffee. “‘Honestly, Tristan, who gives a child of ten summers a blade?’ She must have known you were destined to find trouble at some time or other, since she allowed you to keep it.”
“It’s certainly saved me more than once.” Sobering, I studied the jeweled hilt. Bitter over his secrets or not, I couldn’t deny that Father had given me the tools to become this. A hunter. A warrior. I stiffly added, “I liked your letters.”
Judging by the crispness of the newest envelope, he had written it mere days ago. It contained a promise that he would see me again soon. A rare promise that he had kept this time.
“Did you read them with one of your hunter friends?” Father shrugged when I gave him a guarded look. “You made no effort to hide that you were sharing a room with that Nowak fellow last night.”
“Jon,” I corrected.
There was so much I could have told him, then.
That Jon had been my anchor last night as I went through the letters.
That he had held me and soothed me when my vision grew blurry and a headache pounded from my steady crying as I soaked in year after year of my father’s familiar handwriting—loving words he had written while I had mourned him all that time.
“You two seem…close,” he said evenly.
Hazel snickered. I shot her a reproachful glare as I roughly shoved my dagger back into its leather sheath.
“We’re in love,” I said without any attempt to ease him into the idea. “I want to spend my life with him.”
Father went quiet, shutting his eyes against the words as though he’d been fearing them. When he sighed, I braced myself. “I always knew the boundaries of Elysia would not contain you.” He eyed me, crestfallen. “But this… I never imagined this.”
“I could fill many, many journals with all the things I never could have imagined—you being one of them. But it’s true all the same. I’m in love with a hunter, and he loves me, too.”
His shoulders squared in protest. “Mere months is not long enough for you to understand what you’re getting yourself into.
Such a dangerous life is not suited for you.
” Father’s expression only became more pained when I continued to glare at him in defiance.
“My darling… You don’t need to sacrifice yourself to the first person who widened the world for you. ”
“Are you seriously trying to parent me after a decade of silence?” I snapped.
Even Hazel flinched. After years of navigating Mother’s fiery temper, I nearly lost my footing when Father actually softened. “I can’t help it. To me, you’ll always be that tiny bundle that Melanie passed to me when you were first born. Now you’re asking me to hand you off to a monster.”
“He’s no monster, and I’m not asking for your permission.
” I hesitated, then stood, treading closer to him.
“But I am asking for your help. You, of all people, should understand what it’s like to have everyone sneer at what you want.
The difference is that I’m not going at this alone.
If you won’t help me, I’ll simply find another way.
But it would mean everything if you did this for me. Please.”
Father gave another sigh, and I prepared myself for a fervent refusal. “I will never turn my back on you, even if it means I must adapt to…this,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “But how can you expect me to let you go through a ruinous transformation like I did? I could never condemn you for that.”
A tingle of hope made my heartbeat stutter. “Do you still remember the spell?”
Father’s brows drew together, piecing together my intent. His gaze narrowed at me. “I do. But as I said, it’s incomplete. Dangerous. I’ve run through it a hundred times over the years, and I still don’t know where I went wrong.”
“You don't have to fix it alone this time," I said, my heart pounding faster with every breath. "We have a witch who owes me a favor.”