Chapter 77 Taera
Taera
“You learned magic?” Ezran whispers, half horrified and half awestruck. “Show me.”
“I can’t without a conduit,” I explain again.
They know everything now… except a few details between me and a certain magician.
“That’s where the gold came from,” Gramps muses. “You were training to become a healer there, like you’ve always wanted.”
“Yes.” My voice softens. “It was…”
Yearning cuts into me. I try not to imagine what might have been.
Gramps smiles. “It’s good to see you like this again, Taera.”
“Like what?”
“The light in your eyes. It’s the same spark your mother had, before she… before her magic…” He trails off, shaking his head as though he still can’t comprehend the idea of what happened.
“I haven’t changed.” I frown, but Gramps is still smiling at me.
“You have,” Ez says. He’s quiet, studying me. “You’re different—how you speak, how you sit. Even your clothes…”
“My clothes are only blue from—”
“I know, I know. From the…” Ezran pauses like he’s tasting the word. “Magic.”
“And this Nikolai,” Gramps says, “he’s more than just a friend?”
“Maybe.” I take a sip of my tea, looking down to try to hide the color that rises in my cheeks.
Gramps chuckles, reaching for a piece of cake. “Well, if he brought you home to us, he has my thanks.”
“I don’t like him, or trust him.” Ezran scowls, crossing his arms.
“You don’t have to,” I snap. “Even if you don’t like it, he’s the one who brought me home.”
“Did you even want to come back?” Ezran’s eyes narrow. “From your fancy castle full of everything?”
The words knock the wind out of me. “I did everything to come home.” I gawk at him. “I will never abandon you.”
“Oh, Taera,” Gramps says. “You never did.”
“But I…” Tears warm my lashes, trickle down my cheeks, and Gramps takes my hand.
“We always knew that,” he says, his rough thumb stroking my knuckles. “We just worried for you.”
“I worried for you, too.” I sniffle and wipe the wetness from my face with the back of my hand.
Ezran says, more gently, “You didn’t have to worry about us. We don’t need you, you know.”
I flinch.
“Taera, I’m not a kid anymore.” His voice wavers with emotion, and he clears his throat. “I love you, but you don’t have to be Mom.”
I glance at Gramps, but he just places his mug down, looking serious. “Your brother’s right,” he says. “He also has something to tell you.”
My throat dries. Please, no…
“I’ve stopped going to school,” Ezran says. “And I’ve been doing expeditions into the desert.”
I slam my mug down on the table. “No, no way—”
“I do it the right way,” he says. “I follow the sun, only at low tide, and I bring supplies. Clarice helped me put together some medicine. I’ve even found a couple relics. I traded each one for more than you make in a month.”
My throat closes. I’ve taken care of Ezran for what feels like my whole life. And he’s willing to throw it all away? To abandon Gramps when the sand steals him away? I thought he was finally taking responsibility.
“You can’t,” I choke, standing up. “Ezran, you have no idea how dangerous it is out there, or what you’re doing. How could you do this to Gramps? You will never go into the desert again; I forbid it.”
“Taera.” My brother is quieter than I expect.
I stare down at him, taken aback. But he doesn’t shout back at me. When Ezran looks up from his tea, his brown eyes are clear.
“I’ve seen what can happen. I’ve seen desert sickness take someone.”
“That’s not the same—that’s not—”
“I’ve watched a mage take my sister.” His voice has changed. It’s serious.
I go silent.
“I’ve never been drawn to the whispers like you. When I go onto the sand, I always feel like I can still come home.” He says it with certainty, like he’s thought this through. “And if there’s a day I don’t come back, Gramps will go stay with Clarice and her mother.”
“You can’t,” I whisper. I look at Gramps for help, but he’s regarding my brother with pride. With respect.
“It’s my decision to make,” Ezran tells me, with the same stubbornness I recognize in myself.
The part that cuts deepest is that he no longer wants me to take care of him. “But—but I’ve done everything for you.”
“You don’t have to, Taera. I don’t want you to.”
“I agree,” Gramps murmurs. “You’ve done too much for us already.”
And just like that—the purpose I’ve held onto for years splinters in my hands.
Part of me is sliced open, raw and vulnerable and hurt. The ground beneath my feet has shifted. My brother is suddenly, terrifyingly, a young man I barely recognize. I can’t bundle up my family to keep them safe anymore.
“Come here,” Gramps murmurs, holding his arms open.
Shakily, I step around the table and fold myself into him.
Then Ezran wraps his arms around both of us and squeezes.
I chuckle, my voice thick and wavering, and I let him be the one comforting me for once.
My brother also starts laughing, like he’s on the verge of tears.
When we pull apart at last, I swipe at my damp cheeks.
“You can finally go to the city,” Ezran says. “Like you’ve always wanted.”
“Or,” Gramps murmurs, “are you going back?”
I stare at them, not comprehending. Then my eyes widen, and I shake my head vigorously. “No—of course not. I came back. I’m home. I’m here to stay.”
“Taera—” says Ez.
“I won’t leave you again,” I press on, unsure why I’m so upset. “I tried so hard to come home, I—”
“Taera—” Gramps tries.
“I need you. We need each other. We’re family.”
“Taera,” Gramps says again, raising a hand. His eyes are crinkled, knowing. “I’m overjoyed you’re home, and we missed you very much.”
“But?” I say, my throat tightening.
“The stories you told.” His smile is gentle. “I haven’t heard such energy in your voice since your mother passed.”
My vision blurs, something inside me lurches. He’s right.
“So…” Gramps says. “Do you really want to stay here?”
For the first time, I let myself consider returning to the Halls of Glass.
I tense. I should stay here, in the village.
But emotion slams into me—the loss, the regret, the desperate ache for something more.
I did everything in my power to return here, so why are there sticky tears on my cheeks when I imagine staying?
And Nikolai.
All I feel is devastation, spiraling and sharp, overwhelming regret that he’s leaving without me, that this is the end. He brought me home. I should be happy. I thought I would be happy. Gramps and Ezran are here, and I love them more than anything. I should want to be here.
Nikolai brought me back. He gave me everything I thought I wanted, everything I risked my life for. So why is losing him—losing the world of magic—like carving out a part of myself? It doesn’t even make sense to want him. He rejected me. His world is deadly, corrupt, full of liars.
But also friends.
Possibilities.
Life.
And I want it.
I want to return to the Halls of Glass.
I want my magic. To learn how to use it.
“I—” I choke, unable to admit it.
Gramps just nods. He knows. He understands.
“You’d better keep writing those stupid letters,” Ezran murmurs. “Even if they can’t say anything.”
“I will,” I whisper. “And you’d better stay alive.”
This time, my brother is the one to squeeze me into another suffocating hug. “Of course I will. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“I love you, Ez,” I say into his shoulder.
“Love you, too,” he grumbles. “You’re tough… but, Taera?”
“Yeah?”
He pulls me away, looking me in the eye. “Be careful of those mages—the magicians.”
I nod. “I will.”
“I don’t trust them.” My brother exhales. “But I trust you.”
“Thank you.”
Ezran grins at me, then grabs what remains of the cake and stuffs it into his mouth.
“Get over here,” Gramps chuckles, pulling us both into one more hug that has me smiling and crying at the same time.
When Ez starts to squirm, I finally release him. I glance out the empty window. The sky has turned red with dusk.
I freeze. “What time is it?”
“Already sundown.” Gramps raises his brows. “The afternoon flew by.”
Panic ricochets through me, and I rush to the door, throwing it open. The sun has already set. I was too caught up with my family to notice.
“I have to go,” I say. This time I’m sure. Painfully, absolutely sure. I look back at Gramps, then Ezran. Holding their faces in my mind for as long as I dare.
“What are you still doing here, then?” Gramps smiles toothily. “Stay safe.”
I let out a choked laugh.
One more stolen moment. I imprint their memory.
Then I dash out the door.
Please, desert.
Please don’t let me be too late.