Chapter Thirty-One Riela
Chapter Thirty-One
Riela
The light outside was pale and gray when my brain decided I’d slept long enough, even though my body disagreed—vehemently.
But I knew from bitter experience that going back to sleep wouldn’t happen, so I climbed out of bed with a resigned groan
and got ready for the day.
I stepped into the kitchen and was unsurprised to see Grim in his corner and Garrick already at the table. The dark shadows
under Garrick’s eyes were gone, and if he was feeling the short night, he didn’t show it.
I, on the other hand, would kill for a cup of holly tea. “Does the castle know how to make tea? Preferably an energizing variety?”
Garrick glanced at me and tipped his head to the side. After a moment, there was a soft thrum of magic and a steaming teapot
and two cups appeared on the table. I was so delighted I forgot that I should probably be embarrassed about last night.
I sat across from the Etheri king without waiting for an invitation. I lifted the pot and poured two cups of tea. I handed
him the first, then picked up the second for myself. I blew across the pale, golden liquid. It didn’t look exactly like the
tea I was used to, but the smell was warm and earthy and delicious.
The first sip was bliss: astringent but not bitter, pungent without being overpowering. It was bolder than the holly tea I
occasionally drank—when I could afford the imported leaves—but it was delicious all the same.
I closed my eyes and let the teacup’s warmth soak into my hands. There was another pulse of magic, and the tantalizing smell
of bacon wafted to my nose. A glance revealed a plate of eggs, bacon, and crispy toast waiting for me.
“Thank you,” I murmured, then frowned. I waved at the plate. “Could a mage create this without the castle’s help?”
“If they were strong enough,” he said. “Creating with magic on this side of the door is difficult and taxing.”
“So it’s easier in Lohka?”
Garrick nodded. “Lohka is magic. It’s why I get stronger every time Feylan opens the door. The magic of the land replenishes my own.”
“Will it be easier for me to control my magic there?”
“No. It will perhaps be easier to use your magic, because there will be more available, but your control will be the same.”
My frown deepened. That was not the answer I wanted.
“Your magic is an extension of your will,” Garrick said. “I’ve seen enough to know you have willpower to spare, and you have
power, too. You should be able to use magic as easily as any mage.”
“And yet,” I muttered.
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t contradict me.
I ate breakfast while I mulled why I was such a terrible mage. I’d diverted a literal flood, and I’d opened the door to Lohka,
both impossible feats, but both had only happened because my life was in imminent danger, which wasn’t exactly a reliable
way to use magic.
When I had finished my food and tea, Garrick rose. “Follow me.” At my raised eyebrow, he tacked on, “Please. I want to try
some magical lessons this morning.”
Excitement chased trepidation in an endless loop. If anyone could teach me how to use magic, it would be an Etheri sovereign.
But the thought of failing in front of Garrick brought a round of searing embarrassment. What if he decided I wasn’t useful
after all?
He led me to the courtyard, still shrouded in shadows. Grim followed us out. Rather than heading to the clearing with the
stone dais, Garrick took another path that eventually led to a small, burbling fountain. I thought I’d explored the entire
courtyard, but I’d never seen this place.
He sat on the grass, heedless of the morning dew, and gestured for me to sit across from him.
When I grimaced, his magic rose and water lifted from the blades of grass.
It floated in front of him, a sphere of liquid held aloft with magic.
Without so much as a flicker of movement, he sent the sphere sailing into the fountain. It landed with a soft splash.
I sat in the now dry grass, envious of his easy control.
Grim flopped down in a shadow, blending into the dark foliage with an ease that raised the hair on my arms.
Garrick’s gaze settled on me, his expression considering. “How did it feel to divert the flood?”
“Painful.”
“Before the pain. How did your magic feel?”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t even know I had magic. Searing agony was my first introduction. It felt like something inside me broke and the magic was being ripped from
me one drop at a time—like my heart was being squeezed to death. I didn’t even know it was magic until the water turned aside and people started staring at me. Apparently, I glowed. I don’t remember anything other
than pain and determination.”
Garrick frowned. “That’s not typical.”
“How did it feel to use your magic for the first time?” I asked.
“Etheri are born with magic,” he said, “though most parents will help shield and direct until the child is old enough to learn
basic control. The first time I remember using magic, it was to steal a pastry from the kitchen. I was five or six at the time. Mother scolded me, but I knew she’d
let me do it because I was starting to differentiate her magic from my own.”
“So young?” I asked in surprise.
He nodded. “We have magic from birth, but not much. Stealing pastries was about the extent of it until I was well into my
teens. I might have been able to divert a flood in my twenties, but only if it was the only option for survival, as it was in your case.”
I flushed at the admiration in his voice.
I might be a terrible mage, but I’d done something that even Garrick might not have been able to do at my age.
Of course, humans were supposed to advance far faster than Etheri, but I didn’t let that little detail dim my pleasure.
I had saved the village. No one could take that away from me.
“How does your magic feel now?” Garrick asked.
I raised my magic until it drifted around me in wisps of inky blue. How did it feel? “It doesn’t really feel like anything at all,” I said at last. “I know it’s there, and I can direct it sometimes,
like when I create a light or sense things at a distance, but I don’t really feel connected to it, if that makes sense. It’s
usually blue in my mind’s eye, but sometimes it darkens to a stormy navy, and lately it’s been almost violet when I’m really
desperate.”
Garrick was frowning at me, so I asked, “How does your magic feel?”
“Like an extension of myself.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m human?” I couldn’t quite keep the hopeful note out of the question.
“No.”
Of course not. I sighed.
Garrick’s magic pulsed again, and a sticky bun on a white plate appeared on the fountain’s edge. Garrick pointed at it. “Steal
that with magic.”
When he didn’t say anything else, I rolled my eyes. “With your excellent instruction perhaps I will also learn to soar through
the sky and breathe water today.”
He considered me. “You have the power for it.”
My mouth popped open, then I laughed. “That’s impossible.”
“As impossible as diverting a flood?” he asked, eyebrows high. Before I could respond he said, “Human mages tend to rely on
spells, but spells are just instructions to make repeating difficult magic easier. They aren’t necessary for innate magic.
Your magic knows what to do, you just need to let it. Fundamentally, magic is desire and will made possible. Want the sticky bun to appear in your hand, and it will.”
In a strange way, it made sense. I’d wanted to save the village, and I had. The door was a little stranger—I hadn’t wanted to open it, but I had wanted to escape to safety. Maybe it was the same thing.
I raised my magic until I could see the courtyard glimmering silver, then I stared at the sweet pastry, imagining how it would
melt on my tongue. I wanted it and willed my magic to get it for me.
Blue wisps of power drifted around me like uncooperative, unresponsive smoke.
I frowned, trying to wrestle my magic under control, but the harder I pushed, the more it slipped through my fingers.
Garrick remained silent, but the failure heated my cheeks. His magic rose, limning him in moonlit silver swirls, and he tipped
his head toward the fountain. “Try again.”
I stared at the sticky bun with feral intensity, willing it to appear in my hand, but my magic refused to react. It drifted
around me in taunting waves, doing nothing. Frustration raked me with sharpened claws. What good was a mage who couldn’t use
her magic?
I tried to create a new sticky bun, to prove that I wasn’t a complete failure, but it took an excruciatingly long time to
pop into existence.
And I’d forgotten the plate, so it landed in the grass.
I closed my eyes against the threatening tears. When I opened them again, Garrick extended his hands. “With your permission,
I’d like to try something.”
“What?”
“I want to examine your magic more closely. There’s something . . .” His voice drifted off, and he shook his head.
“Will it hurt?”
His jaw hardened. “I vowed not to hurt you, little mage.”
“No, you vowed that any pain you caused me would be transferred to you. That’s not exactly the same thing.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment, his expression shrewd.
“Good. Words matter when making vows. If I vowed not to hurt you at all, then I might not be able to heal a grievous wound. But the intent is the same. You are safe with me; I will not hurt you. And this should not cause any pain to transfer to me, either.”
I stared at him, judging his sincerity. This didn’t seem to be like the boundary stones, where he had taken my pain intentionally.
I rested my hands on top of his. “What do I need to do?”
“Just relax. You will feel my magic, but it shouldn’t be painful or scary. If it is, tell me.”
I nodded, and his magic rose. It wrapped around me in a cocoon of warmth that slowly sank into my skin. It wasn’t painful
or scary, but it was strange. I could feel his magic alongside my own, a glimmer of moonlight on a dark sea.
Then his magic sank deeper, and my breath caught as the gentle waves of my power turned spiky and angry. Garrick’s jaw clenched,
but his magic didn’t retreat. “I’m not doing that,” I murmured, trying not to break his concentration.
I fought to keep my body loose and my mind calm even as my power roiled around me, furious at the invasion. But Garrick refused
to give up, and true to his word, I didn’t feel any pain.
There was a slight tug in my chest, and then my power exploded outward, tossing Garrick’s magic from my body. He groaned like
he’d been struck, and his hands fell away from mine.
Grim’s growl filled the air, low and deep and menacing. He was crouched in the shadows, his fangs on full display.
Goose bumps rose on my arms as I held my hands up in what I hoped was a soothing manner. “I didn’t do that,” I told the magical
wolf. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Grim,” Garrick commanded, and the wolf settled, but his silver eyes remained trained on me.
The Etheri king didn’t move or open his eyes, even as my magic calmed. His breathing was a harsh rasp that overrode the quiet
trickling of the fountain.
“Garrick? Are you okay?”
“A moment,” he said, his voice hoarse.
I tried not to see that as a bad sign, but it wasn’t easy, especially with Grim staring at me like I was a threat. I twined my fingers together and forced myself to sit still.
When Garrick finally did look at me, I shrank under his gaze. His eyes were solid silver, and glowing with enough magic that
concern whispered through me. Was he going to break his vow after all?
“Have you been lying to me, Riela?” he asked, his voice dangerously silky.
The soft demand froze the blood in my veins. “No.” I paused and grimaced, then admitted, “I mean, last night I told you I
was going for a book when I was really going to try the door again, but you already figured that out. Otherwise, no.”
Garrick didn’t respond, and the silence was weighted with judgment.
I sucked in a deep breath and gathered my courage. “Please tell me what’s going on. You promised you wouldn’t jump to conclusions,
no matter how bad things looked—and it must be bad or you wouldn’t be staring at me like that. So tell me what it is.”
Garrick’s gaze bored into mine, hot and accusing. “I know why you can’t use your magic properly.”
I frowned and hesitantly asked, “And it’s something . . . bad?”
“There’s a seal on your magic. It’s now partially broken, but based on the power and complexity, it was put in place by one
of the six Etheri sovereigns.”