Chapter 8
Theron
It had taken a great effort of will for Theron to keep himself from smiling overmuch during the past few days.
Those who continued the march to Aureum were looking a little ragged around the edges.
A great many Viridian soldiers had been devoured by monstrosities, and the bulk of the nobles had tucked their tails between their legs and run back to Boreas.
Many who had survived were too injured to continue travelling and had the good sense not to beg him to heal them.
Their numbers were dwindling, as was their morale.
What had once been an enormous army was now no larger than a few hundred soldiers and a handful of stubborn—or desperate—nobles and their attendants.
One coup followed another. In the few days since the attack, Theron had been busy resupplying what his people had lost and coordinating a better defensive camp set-up with his aunt.
Which included rushing to the nearest town to purchase their finest lopers and horses—before the Viridian forces could arrive.
What remained of the enemy pack animals and mounts were oxen more accustomed to pulling ploughs, horses that were either long in the tooth or barely trained, and lopers with rebellious streaks.
He’d even managed to get his hands on all the best wine, leaving only the dregs for the pathetic Viridians and whatever wretches Orithyia had convinced to become her new entourage after he’d dispensed with the last one.
But the greatest coup of all was riding her loper at his side—Aurora.
My wife has time magic.
He’d foolishly thought his wife possessed some kind of fairy magic in addition to being struck with visions.
Now he realised her ability to turn a young man into an old man, her inexplicable swiftness and her visions were one and the same.
If Flora had known, she never would have allowed Aurora out of her sight.
It was why he had assigned one of his soldiers to intercept every letter that Leukos wrote back to the queen.
Only a fool would have let her out of their grasp, and he feared Leukos was just intelligent enough to deduce what Theron had.
Now he finally understood how she’d escaped him the day he’d met her, and how she’d nearly evaded him the day he’d tied her to their bed.
That she’d been able to use her magic to save them from a grisly demise was a blessing.
But it was also obvious she lacked skill or control. Perhaps she was entirely self-taught.
As much as the good king in him demanded he keep her weak and untrained so as to better control her, the good husband argued that she never would have been in danger had she been able to control her magic in the first place.
Aurora needed to be taught. She’d said as much herself.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use the opportunity to show her why she should discard her doubts and instead surrender to him.
Theron schooled his expression as he watched his wife’s obvious discomfort on her loper.
The palanquin had been destroyed by the monstrosities, and no replacement of a suitable quality had been found in the towns along the Queen’s Road.
He’d hoped she would relent and ride seated across his lap, but it seemed her stubbornness was too entrenched. There again, opportunities flourished.
“I hope you know I’m grateful for what you did the other night. You saved our lives,” Theron said, enjoying her blush at his compliment.
“You’re welcome.”
“In your homeland, did you receive much magical instruction?”
“I…” She looked away, facing the main road as she squeezed the reins in her hands. “Only a little.”
Interesting.
“If you’re amenable, I would be honoured to pick up where your last instructor left off.”
“You can teach me?”
“To an extent, yes. While our wild magic differs, I was trained by, and in turn trained, many of the best healers in Aureum.”
“But…you can’t train visions…” she hedged, looking cagey.
Why was it she was so hesitant to even discuss her magic?
Had she hidden it in her homeland to protect herself?
He supposed the visions alone would explain her reticence.
Without a way to prove herself, most would believe her mad.
He nearly had until she’d shown him with the mind’s eye stone.
Theron had a hundred questions and feared he’d get answers to none of them if he pushed too hard.
After all, he was still winning back her trust.
“Give me some credit. After you saved us from those monstrosities, I’ve managed to suss out your true magic.”
“Did you?” she asked lightly.
He smiled. Theron could play this game. He nudged his loper closer and leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“Time,” he said.
She turned her head, and their gazes locked as she searched his eyes for something he couldn’t name.
“I can keep it a secret—for a price,” he said in hushed tones.
Say yes. His next plan would only work if he could use this opportunity to bargain.
“What are you proposing?”
He hid his smile.
“We’ll practise discreetly. At night. But if I’m going to lose precious sleep and potentially lie for you, I would ask something of you in return.”
“Oh?”
“That for every lesson in magic, you allow me the chance to demonstrate my charms.”
“Your…oh! I don’t…” she stammered, her face reddening.
“You are, of course, welcome to rebuff me at any point. I will still teach you to the best of my ability. But the cost of my silence is that chance.”
She worried her lower lip with her teeth, making him wish he could nibble on those lips himself. Cautious peridot eyes looked up at him, assessing his latest offer.
“I accept.”
Good, because he knew precisely how he wished to seduce her once their lesson was complete. Her thighs were obviously sore after days of riding a loper that was too wide for her small frame, and Theron knew exactly how to ease that ache while inspiring others.
As the day wore on, he found himself impatient for their time alone.
He could have sworn that the time it took to set up the camp, to bathe and eat, and to dismiss his attendants took thrice as long as it usually did.
But when that moment finally arrived, he took a deep breath. He still needed to provide tutelage.
Theron took out two cushions and placed them on the floor. He invited her to sit across from him. In her golden nightgown, with tendrils of freshly washed hair escaping her braid and trailing down her slender neck, he couldn’t help wondering how soft her skin would be against his lips.
“Theron?”
He shook himself from his stupor.
“Tell me what you’ve learned thus far. We can go from there.”
Her gaze turned away from his, instead focusing on her hands as she wrung them in her lap. Pink tinged the tips of her ears.
“I learned to visualize it as an animal. I was working on placing a collar on it and then a leash, but that…didn’t turn out as well as I’d hoped. When I managed to use it as I would like, I use up my energy far too quickly. I’ve been told my magic is…elusive.”
Shock shot through him like a bolt from the skies. It took an effort of will not to let his jaw drop.
How had she managed to freeze a hundred monstrosities when she knew no more than a child would after two lessons of controlling their wild magic?
He’d suspected she didn’t know much, but this was beyond even his worst predictions.
How in the Loom was she meant to use her magic to destroy Drakon if this was the extent of her knowledge?
Who had been so lackadaisical in their teaching that they’d never prepared her for more?
And who had led her so far astray as to teach her to collar and leash her wild magic?
“That is…an interesting start,” he said as diplomatically as he could.
She scowled, rubbing the back of her neck as her blush deepened.
“Don’t coddle me. I didn’t even know I had magic before…a few months ago. I know I have a long way to go.”
“You didn’t…” he trailed off. That would explain her lack of control but only brought up more questions. “Is that common for fairies? That you manifest your wild magic as adults?”
Her expression soured further.
“Just me, I think,” she replied. “I heard the wellspring as a child, but I thought the magic had abandoned me.”
But if it had only been a few months that meant…
her only real experience with magic had occurred within the boundary of Trisia.
But she was not of Trisia and would have had to cross the Between to arrive here in search of Drakon.
He had a thousand questions, but one felt more pressing that all the rest.
“How did you cross the Between if you didn’t have control of your magic?”
Her brows pinched in confusion before her lips pressed into a mulish line. She looked away and shrugged.
So Aurora didn’t wish to speak of it. It seemed he would have to wait a little longer for that tale. He recalled her injuries when he’d first met her, the horrors written into the memories on her bones, and resolved not to ask again until she was ready.
“Alright, I understand,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face.
Triad, it had been some time since he’d trained complete beginners.
But at the very least, he could set her on a better path.
“First and foremost, the concept of collaring and leashing your magic is for those whose wild magic is inherently dangerous. Fire, ice, and lightning, for instance. Like my magic, you can use yours to harm, but that is not its primary function. What animal did you first visualize your magic as?”
“The desert fairy mouse,” she replied sheepishly.