Chapter 69 Taera
Taera
We step out of the carriage in front of a small cottage with smoke puffing out of the chimney. My legs are shaky after being scrunched up for so long, and I wobble with Nikolai toward the faded red door. He knocks twice before pushing it open.
“Mom, Hazel, I’m home!” He’s still wearing his dazzling illusions, and my eyes fix on his face, waiting for the moment he drops them.
“Nikolai?” a soft-spoken voice calls out, and then an elegant silver-haired woman bustles into view. She smiles at us, seemingly surprised by my presence, before enveloping her son in a hug. Then she opens her arms to me, too. “Welcome.”
I hesitate, asking, “You’re not a conduit, right?” The second the words leave me, I wince. What if she doesn’t know about magic? But Nikolai is clearly wearing magicians’ robes, not to mention the illusions he still hasn’t dropped.
She laughs, and her eyes twinkle. “No, dear. I’m Margaret, Nikolai’s mother. He’s the only magician in the house.”
“I’m Taera,” I reply with a smile. Cautiously, I accept the hug. Margaret smells faintly of fresh bread, and a wave of warmth washes over me. I’m more comfortable in this entryway—already—than I’ve been for the past month.
“Nikolai hasn’t told us anything about you, I’m afraid.” Margaret fixes her son with a stern look. “Don’t just stand there, come in. Hazel will be delighted to see you.”
“How is she?” Nikolai asks.
“Resting. You could surprise her, if your hollering hasn’t woken her up already.”
Nikolai looks at me and grins. “Follow me.”
He shows me through the narrow hallway to a door that he pushes open, then peeks his head inside.
“Hazel?” he asks.
“Nikki?”
The door opens wider. A young girl is sitting upright on the bed. She looks like a princess, with a delicate chin and blonde waves of hair that cascade all the way down to the blankets. Everything about Hazel is the perfect picture of a joyful child, except for the hollow, haunted look in her eyes.
I stop in the doorway, unable to move.
Hazel’s eyes are unfocused, lost in the same deep sorrow as Mom in her last days.
She’s not even a teenager—eleven, Nikolai said—but already her head is drooping, her eyes lost. Eternally tired.
“I have something for you.” Nikolai sits beside his sister on the bed, like this is normal.
His voice is so adoring that I wonder if this is the same person I left the Halls with.
Still, he doesn’t take off his illusions.
He reaches into a deep pocket and pulls out an amulet.
It’s eerily similar to the one Lee used when the leeches stole my magic, and I swallow.
“Thank you,” Hazel says, hugging him. When she lets go, Nikolai carefully loops the amulet over her neck.
Hazel cries out, wincing briefly, and the amulet glows red against her skin.
Then relief spreads across her face and she perks up, quirking her head over to look at me.
She has the same evil glint in her gaze that I’ve seen in her brother’s.
The shadows that moments ago haunted her expression are nowhere to be seen.
“Are you Nikki’s girlfriend?”
My mouth flaps open uselessly before I look to Nikolai for help.
“Something like that.” He smirks, ruffling his sister’s hair.
“She’s pretty,” Hazel says, grinning. “She’s a source?”
“Her name’s Taera.” Nikolai leans in close to her. “And yes. Don’t worry, though. You’ll always be my favorite.”
Hazel beams at me, waving me forward until she can whisper loudly to me through her small cupped hands. “I can have him when he’s fun, and you can have him when he’s annoying.”
“Alright.” I nod, smiling. It’s hard to reconcile this perky, inquisitive child with the darkness in her a few minutes ago. The shift shocks me—and hurts. This could have been my mother. Anger and sadness stab at my heart, but I weather the riot in my chest—this isn’t the time or place.
“How long are you staying?” Hazel asks.
“Just tonight,” Nikolai replies.
I stare at him. We came all this way for one night?
“Only one day?” Hazel whines, echoing my thoughts. She slings her miniature arms around his neck and clings to him.
“Two days,” he murmurs. “With one night sandwiched in the middle.”
Nikolai leans closer and whispers something in her ear. Her eyes go round and she looks at me curiously.
“You have a brother, too?”
“I do.” I smile tentatively.
Hazel’s grin is as beautiful as her brother’s, even without magic. “Then you have to visit him, too.”
“I… we’re not…” My brows crease. Do I have to explain? I glance at Nikolai.
He rubs Hazel’s head fondly, then says, “Would you excuse us so I can show Taera my room?”
When his sister agrees and winks—she winks at me—Nikolai leads me out into the skinny hallway and around the corner to the room at the end.
“This is mine,” he says.
My brain doesn’t make sense of what’s going on—why our visit is so short, why he hasn’t shown his true face, why Hazel is asking about my brother.
He opens the door. It’s tiny, with a narrow bed, square window, and a desk piled with dusty books. A wooden crate is propped in front of the desk as a seat.
“Leave your stuff anywhere you like,” he says.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Nikolai turns back to me. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I wasn’t sure how long the desert would keep us, but we have time, so… we should be able to visit your village for a day as well.”
I gape. Then, my heart squeezes, and I step forward to embrace him.
He chuckles as I tighten my arms around him, pouring my gratitude into my magic. His arms fall around me, and he squeezes me back.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I’m glad you get to see them.”
When I’m sure I’m not going to cry, I release him. I only have a few seconds to compose myself before Margaret calls, “Dinner!” and we all gather in the cozy kitchen. Nikolai still hasn’t lowered his illusions, which confuses me, but I’m quickly distracted when the three of them start singing.
Gathered and one
Our family and home
The desert, the forest
“Together for morest!” Hazel adds the last line.
“It still doesn’t rhyme,” Nikolai grumbles. “Or make sense.”
“Yeah it does,” Hazel retorts.
Margaret scoops us all a bowl of carrot and onion soup, and we sit around a low table. I devour the familiar dish.
“If they’re leaving tomorrow, we have to bake the cake tonight.” Hazel grins.
“I suppose so.” Margaret smiles.
“Cake?” I ask.
“We always make pepperspice cake,” Hazel enthusiastically informs me. “Whenever Nikki comes home.”
“Your brother should try to arrive at a more reasonable hour, then.” Margaret chuckles.
Nikolai nods. “I’ll ask the desert to get us here before Hazel’s bedtime, next time.”
Dinner wraps me in a feeling I’d forgotten: family. Real family. The easy chatter, the gentle teasing… It fills a hollow place in me I didn’t realize was empty.
I catch Margaret looking at my threadbare tunic. I tug it smooth, trying to make it look more acceptable next to her clean-pressed peach apron and Hazel’s embroidered yellow dress.
“Nikolai’s clothes always turned that color,” Margaret says. She must be referring to the faint blue gleam my clothes have gained from the Halls. When she smiles, her eyes crinkle like Nikolai’s. “Hazel sometimes sends him with a scarf or a pair of socks so they’ll come back blue for her.”
I smile.
Despite my best attempts to help tidy up after supper, Nikolai, Hazel and I are shooed outside for a walk, leaving Margaret to clean up.
“It’s the only peace and quiet I’ll have all week.”
“Is it safe to go out?” I ask, eyeing the darkness outside.
“With me, yes,” Nikolai replies.
“And I know what the bad mages look like,” Hazel whispers, taking my hand as though to comfort me. Nikolai stiffens at his sister’s comment, and I frown at him.
“She remembers what her attacker looked like,” he murmurs.
No wonder he doesn’t look happy.
“A scar all the way down his cheek,” Hazel says in a hushed voice, as though trying to spook me. It’s working.
“What happened?” I ask softly, unsure if I should say anything.
“Nikki saved me,” she says, letting go of my hand to clasp her brother’s. “He frightened the bad mage away.”
I believe it.
I find myself lagging a few steps behind the two siblings.
Hazel soon forgets about this topic and chatters about every bird she’s seen this week, and the funny new haircut of Farmer Tuv down the road.
Nikolai listens as if she’s the most riveting storyteller in the world, prompting her to continue when she slows.
He treats her like a princess, which fills me with tenderness.
I’ve never seen Nikolai like this. At school, he’s elite.
Untouchable. Here, he’s at the whim of a cheerful girl who keeps darting off the path to try to catch fireflies.
With the distance he keeps from others at the Halls of Glass, I didn’t expect them to be so close.
It’s hard not to smile, watching the two of them.
It’s a few minutes into the walk when he glances over his shoulder.
“Are you doing alright?” The words whisper past my ear. While he’s still wearing the dazzling mask of a magician, his smile is easier than usual. I can’t help but return it, nodding at him.
I am alright—more than alright. I’m content.
It takes a long time to loop back around to the house, but I don’t find myself in a hurry, even when the air cools.
Stepping back inside the warmth, Margaret surprises us by having already made a bowl of batter, flecked with recognizable orange-brown speckles, and Hazel squeals.
I remember the last time I made pepperspice cookies with Ezran and Mom, gobbling them down despite burning the bottoms. A lump clogs in my throat.
While the cake bakes, filling the house with an achingly familiar spicy scent, Hazel pulls out a deck of cards and urges us to play.
I join the family around the short table, where Nikolai deals the cards and briefly explains the rules of Around the Fields, which it turns out I already know by a different name.
My skills are less effective than usual.
Hazel astounds everyone with unbelievable luck in the first round, and then again in the second. When she whoops with joy upon picking up her hand the third time, I eye Nikolai. He winks at me, and I stifle my laughter. He deals the cards, his arm brushing mine, exchanging a tingle of magic.
It’s so easy to be around his family. They’re so normal, despite the glimmers of magic.
I can already imagine the way Gramps would tease Hazel, how Ezran would adore her but pretend not to.
And Margaret’s bread would have everyone complimenting—I stop myself.
My cheeks grow hot, and I’m grateful for the dim light.
I should not be thinking about how our families would get along.
Once Hazel begins to yawn, Margaret puts down her cards.
“It’s long past time for bed,” she says.
“But the cake,” Hazel says.
“I’ll take it out when it’s done,” Margaret replies.
“I’m not tired,” Hazel insists, but the last word opens into another yawn.
“Nice try.” Nikolai chuckles. “Don’t worry. We’ll still be here in the morning.”
After Margaret sends Hazel off to bed, the cards become fair again.
“Remind me never to take a bet against you,” I say.
“You should stop spoiling her,” Margaret says, but her smile undermines the sternness in her tone. “It’s important for her to learn how to lose gracefully, as well as win.”
“She deserves it,” Nikolai says, and the silence in the room shifts, growing more tense. Margaret sighs and places a hand on his shoulder.
“She’s happy, Nikolai. You take good care of her.”
He shifts as though trying to wriggle away from her comforting gesture, and I see his subtle flinch before he looks away.
“It’s been a long day.” He places his cards down on the table, getting up. “We should get some rest as well.”
“Thank you for everything,” I say to Margaret, hovering awkwardly behind after Nikolai leaves.
“You’re always welcome in our home,” she says warmly.
My heart twists at her kindness. She doesn’t even blink at Nikolai being a magician. But the way he still wears his illusions around his family doesn’t make sense to me. Perhaps it’s because I’m here—I’m struck by a pang of guilt and sadness.
“I’m sorry,” I say, “that he won’t take off his illusions with me around.”
“It’s not you, dear. He hasn’t in years.”
Shock ricochets through me, and I try to stifle my “oh.” But my face betrays me.
“I know,” she says with a sad smile. “We miss him, too.”
“Well,” I say, too quickly. “Thank you for having me here.”
“Goodnight, Taera.”
I pad back to Nikolai’s bedroom, cringing at my own awkwardness. But I’m still stunned. Nikolai won’t show his face to his mother? His sister? I try to imagine hiding myself from my own family, but I can’t. It would be a lie.
I find him standing in his room, looking out the window, his back to me, silhouette framed by the dark. I just stare, unsure what to think, until my gaze shifts distractingly to the bed. I don’t know how I missed it before, when the problem is so obvious now.
His bedroom is tiny. Even if I were a contortionist, there wouldn’t be enough space to sleep on the narrow, crooked strip of floor. Which only leaves the one thin bed. My heart begins to race, and I swallow.