6 Blushrose #2
She rubbed her palms together, trying to settle her nerves. “The stone?” she said.
Eli raised a brow. “Moonstone,” he corrected, leaning back in the chair and crossing his ankle over a knee.
“You knew what it was. That night. You didn’t ask how I found it.”
He met her eyes. “You went into the tunnels without it and came out with it. It was basic deductive reasoning.”
Vaelira went still. “I almost drowned, you know.”
“But you didn’t.” He paused. “I asked Lysander to push you. I asked him to take it further than he wanted. I needed to see if I was right. And I was.” His expression tightened. Either she was imagining things, or he looked ashamed.
“Right about what?”
“Your power.”
It was silent for a few moments, her mind unable to process the impossibility of his words, so she ignored them, opting to scowl at him instead. “It was pitch black in those tunnels.”
“Another condition on my part.” He looked away. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to take the lamp.”
“I wanted to, but there weren’t enough to go around.” Not exactly a lie, but she wasn’t about to admit it hadn’t crossed her mind until total darkness had descended.
“Exactly,” he said. “Not that I would have let you.”
Vaelira’s eyes narrowed. “Are you the reason I got paired with Rurik?” She could still feel the blow he’d taken to her ribs.
Eli nodded, but at least he wasn’t smirking anymore.
“So, you saw the stone,” she continued. “How is that even possible? It was in my pouch.”
“Moonstone,” he corrected again. “I saw the glow. Before Lysander covered you with the cloak.”
She swallowed. “You weren’t going to say anything?”
“I had questions,” he said. “Same as you.” He looked to the fire, jaw flexing. “I’ve seen something like it before.” He reached beneath his shirt and pulled out a silver pendant on a long chain. A pale blue stone was set into the centre. Topaz.
“It reacted when you hit that recruit during the first trial,” he said. “I knew I had to keep a close eye on you after that, but the moonstone was unexpected.” He rubbed his jaw. “Strange that it didn’t react with Rurik. What was different that time?
“I was terrified,” she said without thinking. “Have you seen the size of him?”
Eli tilted his head. “And with the other one?”
“I knew I could take him.”
Their eyes locked and Eli cleared his throat. “I think fear might stifle it.”
He pulled something from his pocket and placed it on the bed between them. Somehow, she had known he had it. The moonstone lay dull and cold on the sheets. Her fingers twitched, but she didn’t reach for it. She wasn’t sure she ever would.
It hadn’t been her brother back at the cottage, not in the way that mattered, and yet it had.
Now, guilt tore at her as she remembered his face, illuminated stark white as that surge of pale light spilled from the moonstone.
Looking up, she found him studying her, his dark eyes intense and calculating.
“My pendant had a stronger reaction,” he added more gently, returning the moonstone to his pocket when it became clear she wouldn’t take it.
“When your brother—when it happened at the cottage. I don’t know why it was him.
I heard you ask in the orchard. Maybe,” he hesitated, chewing his lower lip.
“Maybe it’s because he was close to you. ”
Vaelira shifted, unease coiling in her stomach.
“If something’s drawn to your power,” he continued, quieter now, “maybe standing in its shadow is enough.”
She broke his stare.
“I was on my way,” he added quickly. “Before the guards even knew. I found you moments before the others arrived.”
She stared into the fire. “What did you feel when it happened?”
“You mean, when you happened?”
She looked at him, expecting to find a glint of humour in his eyes, but he was leaning forward now, watching her carefully.
“There was a pulse,” he said. “Warm at first. That night though…” His gaze dropped. He unbuttoned his shirt halfway and drew it aside, revealing an angry burn at the centre of his chest.
Had she really been so distracted when she had seen him sparring earlier that she hadn’t noticed?
She wanted to apologise, but something stopped her.
“Magic,” she breathed, finally admitting what she couldn’t bring herself to realise before. Her skull felt like it was cracking open with the sheer impossibility of everything. Jon was gone. And magic…
Magic was a whispered word between friends, a bedtime story told to lull children to sleep, a long-lost power used by mages to make objects move or create flame from nothing.
A faded myth, and entirely unforgiveable by law.
The sentence was death. She had never questioned the necessity for such a law before now and had always presumed it was a way to preserve their history.
Not because it may need to be enforced one day. Not because magic still existed.
“I did not know what I was searching for, but now that I’ve found you, returning without you would be impossible.” Eli’s gaze held hers in place. “You can stay here and pretend nothing’s changed. Or you can come with us and start to understand what this is. What you are.”
“You’ve been talking to Freya.”
Eli crossed his arms over his chest. “And if I have?”