Four #2
Time stalled. Power. I’d spent these months so focused on my recovery, on my health, that I hadn’t thought about what it would mean to access Rorik’s magic alongside mine.
An undeniable thrum of excitement beat through my limbs.
Using my magic in the past had always posed too great a risk, the cost too dire.
Would that be the same if I found a way to blend Rorik’s power with mine again? What would that look like?
An errant chill kissed the back of my neck, and the heavy weight of a stare wormed between my shoulder blades. I tilted my head toward the front door. In my peripheral, Death stood there. Watching. Waiting.
I swallowed thickly, turning my focus back to Seville. “And if I don’t want to risk it?”
Vora cursed beneath her breath as she dropped her head in her hands. Seville merely shrugged.
“Then don’t. I won’t force you, but I know that if it were me in your position .
. .” She leaned forward and pinned me with her stare.
“I’d want to know what I could do. What if there was something that could help you, too?
What if you could bring back the threads you lost or protect the ones you still have? ”
I blinked as her words echoed my thoughts. “Is that possible?”
“I don’t know. But you’ve already done things I didn’t think were possible.”
I held her gaze as my mind whirled. Of course I didn’t want the Ferngloves to die, but what if there was a way to bolster the little life I had left? After years and years of living for the expense of others, this felt like a chance to take back something for myself.
“I’ll go,” I said. Vora opened her mouth to interject, but I reached across the table to grip her hand with mine. “I’m not going to threadmend. I don’t want to die.”
“Edira . . .” She chewed on her lip as she scoured my face.
“But maybe, if Rorik is willing to teach me, I can help them and myself.” I squeezed her fingers. “I have to try.”
“You can’t go back.”
I startled in my chair, and Ywena fluttered her wings against my hair.
I twisted around to see Nohr standing frozen in the foyer.
He was covered in muck from the horses, his hair a tousled mess and his hands formed into fists by his sides.
Jaw set tight, he tore his gaze away from me to level a glare at Seville.
“Nohr,” I said as I stood, but he jerked his chin.
“How dare you come here and plant this idea in her head. After everything you did to her.” Nohr strode into the kitchen to stop before Seville.
Anger rippled from him in heady waves, and, all at once, I realized my brother had changed.
When did he take over the role of caretaker?
When he turned eighteen last month? When he brought me home from Fernglove and laid me gently on the couch?
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, and I stepped between him and Seville.
I placed my hands on his chest. “It’s okay, Nohr.”
“It’s not,” he spat. He turned his ire to Vora. “I can’t believe you’d let her go along with this.”
Vora shrank beneath the weight of his hardened gaze, but I grasped the fabric of his shirt and forced his attention to me. “Vora didn’t let me do anything. I make my own choices, Nohr. Don’t blame her.”
“I . . .” His throat bobbed as his eyes turned glassy. “You give too much of yourself. Always. First with me and Noam, then with them. I can’t . . . we can’t lose you. If Noam were here, you know he’d be fighting this, too.”
A sad smile pulled at my lips. “I know.”
“You don’t have much time left.” His words were a whisper.
A plea. An arrow straight to my heart. There was no telling how much of my lifespan I’d shaved off when I’d cured Fernglove, but I felt the loss in my bones, in the tiredness that never seemed to leave, in the hair-raising chill no one else noticed.
Every day was one step closer to my grave.
“That’s exactly why I’m going.”
“Edira—”
“Nohr,” I said, cutting him off, “I spent years making sure you and Noam were cared for, and now you are. You don’t have to work in the mines. You don’t have to scrounge for food. You’re free to do whatever you please.”
“No one asked you to do that, Edira.” Nohr shook his head.
It took everything in me not to let out a bitter laugh; I was so damn tired.
I loved my brothers. I would repeat my past again and again if it meant getting them to where they were now, but they would never understand the mental load that came with that role.
No, they hadn’t asked me to raise them, to feed them, to shelter them.
But who else would have? And when they were old enough to take on more, they didn’t think to ask.
I went to Fernglove the first time to save them. I wanted to go back to see if I could save myself.
“I won’t threadmend,” I said softly. “But I am going back. What if there’s a way to protect my own threads? What if I can prolong this fate by harnessing this magic?”
A pregnant pause swelled between us. Nohr’s brows drew together. “Is something like that possible?”
“No one knows. But I need to try,” I said firmly. “Wouldn’t it be nice if I had more time?”
“Of course.” He gave an indignant scoff. “I just don’t trust them.”
“They’re the only ones who can help.”
I knew the moment I won when his eyes shuttered and his chest fell, and then he swept me into a tight hug that made my bones ache.
Ywena barely escaped and fled to the safety of Vora’s shoulder.
I wrapped my arms around Nohr and buried my face against his shirt.
For several moments, we didn’t move. We simply breathed each other in.
Only when Seville cleared her throat did Nohr release one of his arms, tucking me to the side of him so he could glare directly at her.
“When?” he asked.
I looked to Seville and she stood, brushing invisible dirt off her clothes. “I’d recommend sooner rather than later, but I’m at your disposal.” She cut a quick glance out the window. “If you grab your things now, we’ll make it back in time for dinner.”
“I’ll get started.” Vora pushed away from the table and headed for the stairs. She was gone in seconds.
“Are you sure you’ll be safe?” Nohr asked.
“Of course she’ll be safe,” Seville said as she moved toward me and draped her arm over my shoulders. “I’ll keep her out of harm’s way.”
“Is that supposed to reassure me?” He glowered at her.
“Far be it for me to tell you how to feel. Though this ‘overprotective brother’ angle looks good on you.” She tilted her chin up with a smirk. “I should let Tasia know. She did find you rather attractive.”
“Seville,” I said just as Nohr stiffened and took a sharp step forward. “Don’t antagonize him.” I stepped out of her grasp and reached for Nohr’s hands. The tension in his arms softened when I gripped his fingers tight. “I’m going to be fine.”
He rounded his hard gaze on me. “For how long?”
“I don’t know.” I tossed a quick look at Seville, but she offered only a small shrug. “It’s not like last time. Maybe a few days, or maybe Rorik will throw me out the moment I get there.”
“One can hope,” Nohr grumbled. Then he let out a long, heavy sigh that settled over me like a blanket. “Fine. But if I don’t hear from you within a day or two, I’ll be knocking down their door with my own fists.”
“That would be fun to see,” Seville mused.
I shot her a harried look. “That’s fine, Nohr. I promise I’ll stay in touch.”
“Okay, Edira. If this is what you want . . .” He wrapped me in another hug before releasing me and moving toward the foyer. “I’ll find Noam so he can see you off, too. We’ll meet you at the arch.”
My gaze followed him out the door. Without turning to face Seville, I asked, “Have you been back to Fernglove recently?”
She hummed to herself. “It’s been a while. After we got you patched up, I stayed for a bit to help Lydia and Clesian put the rest of the estate together. Then Rorik and I both left for a time.”
“Rorik left, too? Why?” I shifted to face her.
I had no reason to be surprised or curious, yet I was.
The last time I’d seen Fernglove, it’d been nothing more than a pile of rubble.
Rorik and Orin had upturned the earth with their battle.
The manor had descended into a heaping mess of debris, and those who remained were still actively clearing the grounds when I was well enough to leave.
I hadn’t asked Vora about the condition of the estate when she’d visited Rorik, and a part of me was excited to see what it had become.
“We both had things to attend to. People to . . . meet with.” Her smile tightened, and I got the distinct feeling she was biting back words. “If you want to know what he was doing, ask him yourself.”
“Does he know you’re here?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Of course not.” She snorted. “I caught wind he made it home last week, but I figured if he were sick, he’d hide it away, too. So, I came to you first to see if you caught a glimpse of anything. Now, I think that’s enough interrogation for the time being. Go get your things.”
Nodding, I made for the stairs. Vora and I packed quickly, just a small duffel bag each, and I grabbed one of my apothecary cases stocked with remedies.
Within half an hour, we were walking through the door.
Seville led the way, sauntering down the path toward the main road with Vora hot on her heels.
I paused for a moment beneath the archway my father had carved and gently stroked one of the wooden flowers.
The entire frame was a handcrafted masterpiece of roses in different stages of bloom, with vines weaving through them all and delicate leaves that draped around each bud.
Last time, I’d been ushered away so quickly I hadn’t gotten the chance to savor my home.
I’d been afraid of what lay ahead. But now . . .