Chapter 63 Taera
Taera
The cool air hits me first, then I taste the desert. It tears my heart open. The ache for home sharpens into a twisting blade, and tears spring into my eyes.
It’s completely dark except for the ember-glow of my dress and the pinprick shine of the stars above us.
We’re outside the Halls of Glass, high atop one of its many towers.
For the first time in weeks, I inhale air that isn’t filtered through glass.
For the first time in weeks, I inhale the freedom of the open desert.
The stars grow brighter as my eyes adjust, whole constellations rising like old friends. The smell of the desert fills me with wave after wave of nostalgia.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Nikolai stands next to me while I cry in silence. I don’t hide my face; I just look upward, wanting to imprint every trembling point of light into my memory. The breeze is delectable, the scent of home.
“Come,” Nikolai says. He leans down. He’s removing his shoes and socks. I look down at my own feet, confused, but slip them free. When my bare toes connect with the ground, I realize why. It’s sand—way up here—the sensation gritty and oddly ticklish.
A lifetime next to the desert, and until now I’ve never walked on pure sand. It has a mind of its own, filling the gaps between my toes and scratching playfully at the bottoms of my feet. I crunch from foot to foot.
He eyes me. “You never crossed the line onto the sand?”
“The desert is cursed, remember?” I say wryly.
Nikolai shakes his head, chuckling. I giggle. It wells up from some light place inside me, and soon we’re laughing together. I’ve lived my entire life with sand in my hair, in my clothes, in every meal, but never once stepped out onto it.
The magician walks in front of me, showing the way along the winding path of sand which leads to a tower-top dune, about the size of my home.
Nikolai sits down, and overcome by another bout of laughter, I join him.
The sand squishes into a seat just for me, and when he stretches out on his back, looking up at the stars, I do the same. The sky stretches infinite above us.
“Better than the party?” he asks.
“It’s perfect,” I say. My grin is unstoppable. So is the flutter as I glance at him.
A quiet moment passes. Then softly, he says, “It shouldn’t have been possible, what you did back in the exam room.”
I flush, looking back up at the stars.
“I can’t believe you channeled the phoenix…” He lets out a low whistle.
“You weren’t bad yourself,” I murmur. “Until Koroy threw that last test at us… it was like you didn’t even need me. You could have done the entire thing on your own. I’m surprised more magicians don’t cheat.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “No other source would have been able to maintain invisibility for that long, let alone the entire scene on top of that. It required enormous power, far more than just doing the damn test.”
My cheeks feel warm, but it’s not unpleasant. A question tugs at my mind.
“How did you know what the rest of the talismans did?” I ask.
He winks. “I can’t tell you all my tricks.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. Nikolai never gives a straight answer, but tonight, I don’t mind.
“Did you see the master’s face when we passed?” I grin. “That was awesome.”
He falls quiet, and we both gaze up at the twinkling stars in the sky.
“It still wasn’t as impressive as when you activated the shards,” he murmurs. “I didn’t think anyone in the Halls could even use that relic anymore. Illusionists aren’t as powerful as they used to be.”
“You seem pretty powerful,” I say.
He scoffs. “You’re one to talk.”
“You didn’t have any doubts we would make it through?”
“I did swallow an amulet, just in case.”
I jerk upright. “What—why?” I stare at him. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“It’s safer than you think. I can feel it, as long as I don’t drain it completely, so I’ll know if it gets stuck.” His grin is devilish. “And you’re practically a healer. If something goes wrong, you can fix me back up.”
I roll my eyes again. For someone so intelligent, sometimes Nikolai is—
“Why aren’t you a healer?” he asks.
I sigh. For once, I don’t want to tell the story of why I hate magic. But I’m compelled to share something.
“We didn’t have the money after Mom died. We sold the apothecary first. Then, eventually, I gave up the chance for an apprenticeship to stay close to Gramps and Ezran. Not that we could afford it.”
His gaze softens. “I didn’t know.”
I look down. “You’re not the only one trying to take care of your family.”
“You could apprentice here, you know.”
“Become an illusion healer?” I snort. “What do they do, fool people into thinking their problems don’t exist?”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Our peaceful moment under the night sky is broken by my spite. It’s also growing late, and cold, and I’m suddenly afraid that once we leave, this will all end.
“Maybe we should keep pretending to be together,” I rush on. “So it isn’t obvious that it was just for exams.”
Nikolai chuckles. “Are you sure that’s the reason?”
“Of course.” It’s an outrageous lie, and I’m glad the night is dark enough to mostly hide my face.
“Sorry, Taera, I can’t.”
“Oh, okay.” I swallow his words like a ball of cold slime that worms its way inside me. “I understand, I mean, you must have a lot of girls who you want to spend time with.”
He winks. “They’re not all girls, Taera.”
My mouth bobs open and closed. The words sex magic swim unhelpfully into my mind.
“A lot of sources,” I croak. “I didn’t think of that, but—whoever it is—I’m sure I’ve been holding you back from doing… whatever it is you want to do with them.”
Somehow, thank the desert, I manage to shut my mouth.
Nikolai looks at me, his eyes dancing in the starlight. “While I appreciate your concern for my sex life—”
“No, that’s not…” I clap my hands over my face. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re adorable.” He’s laughing at me now.
“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” I mumble through my fingers.
“I’m leaving in two days.”
“What?” I drop my hands to stare at him. “How long will you be gone for?”
“I don’t know.”
Another frantic ache begins in my chest. “I don’t understand.”
“I never know where the Halls will take me. Could be a week, or a month.”
Loss bottoms out my stomach. I try to tell myself I’m afraid, that I’m worried about my safety here without him. But I know I’m lying to myself.
“You’ll be out of here in a few months, too.” He smirks. “Showed everyone up by skipping three whole years. Even more impressive than me.”
“You know it was all because of you,” I retort.
“Maybe today it was, but in a few months every conduit in the Halls will want you. Advanced students might even offer to sponsor you. I’ll have to fight just to get your attention.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not.” His eyes are wide, earnest.
I continue to smile, quietly, because deep down I know that will never happen. Even if I become that source, every breath of my attention already belongs to Nikolai. He will never have to fight for me, because he’s the only one I want. No one else has ever come close.
I try to throw the damp cloth of reality over my feelings. He’s my magician, but nothing more. I can’t let myself go there. But I remember he’s leaving, and I’m filled with hopeless anger.
I’ve never wanted anything for myself. I’ve prided myself on never wanting much at all, and even when I did, on setting it aside for what’s needed of me.
I’ve spent years doing what’s necessary.
I don’t resent it; I’m proud of it. I’ve fought to escape, to survive, and I’ve done everything, everything, to get back to my family.
But now, alone in the Halls of Glass—after I’ve spent every ounce of myself trying again and again to do what’s right… what about what I want?
A dangerous selfishness rolls through me.
I’ve never desired anything the way I desire Nikolai.
And even though he’s a dazzling, infuriating, dangerous magician, I crave him like the sum of every small want I’ve ever suppressed.
He lights me on fire, makes me feel like I’m in freefall—but like he’ll catch me.
He leaves the day after tomorrow. So what’s holding me back?
I’m strangled by want, by need, but utterly lost as to how to act on it.
My tension must read as discomfort, because Nikolai props himself up on an elbow. “Are you getting cold? Ready to go back?”
My throat knots, and I can only nod.