Chapter 26
Reid
Iwake up well before dawn and can’t fall back to sleep thanks to the freezing hard ground and the shitstorm rampaging through my mind.
To be honest, what Emlyn said about our ancestors being fae had completely slipped my mind. It was one of the many details thrown at me that night that turned my world completely upside down. But it wasn’t as pressing as the rest, so my brain buried it back where it wouldn’t bother me.
Until Taran had to not only bring it up again yesterday, but also reveal that the thing I’ve dedicated my life to since I was eleven years old isn’t, in fact, the pinnacle achievement of humanity. Instead, it’s a crime against the living spirit of the earth.
How in Arandur’s stinking name do I come back from that?
We’d always known incanting was bad for the environment.
That’s why they outlawed it for anyone outside of the Order of Incanters and the Academy.
If everyone did it, nothing would grow anywhere.
That never bothered me before—it was just the way things were.
Now, the truth has tied my stomach up in a perpetual knot that makes me dry heave every time it tries to unravel itself.
There’s no way I’m getting any more shut-eye with all these thoughts slamming around in my head, so I drag myself to the smoldering remains of our campfire.
It’s wallowing in the chilly air, and I’m almost tempted to return to Ellie’s side just to get her warmth back.
Having her curled into me wasn’t my ideal sleeping arrangement, but fuck if I’m gonna let her sleep out of arm’s reach with two men we barely know around. Caeo would kill me.
A sharp pang pierces my chest. I do know Emlyn. I’ve known him for weeks. But it’s no longer clear which parts were real and which were an act. Was he building a tower of chips on a wooden duck’s head with me because he actually enjoyed it, or was he just passing time until Caeo showed up?
And now he’s fae, and I’m…
Stop it. I can sort out my feelings about Emlyn after I come to terms with all the shit Ellie and I have done.
Ellie’s face when she realized the truth…
Slack-jawed, trembling—she can’t be feeling any better about it than I am.
Over the course of our lives, in trying to be the best, we’ve turned into some of the worst offenders.
I could never incant again, and I’ll still likely have done it more than some full-fledged Order members.
But despite spending almost the entirety of my days with Ellie for months, we’ve never waded into the deeper waters of friendship necessary for heart-to-hearts, and I’m not sure I want to start now.
I’m already more involved in her relationship with Caeo than I ever wanted to be.
I rub my eyes, then scan our campsite, not that there’s much to see in the dark.
A blur of trees and silhouettes of horses.
Someone should’ve been keeping watch, but Taran’s nowhere to be found.
Which is a relief, as I have little desire to sit around in awkward silence with him.
He’s barely acknowledged my presence since our arrival; I think Emlyn’s jab about me being more useful than Ellie unnerved him.
Speaking of Emlyn… where is he?
“You’re up early,” his mellow voice whispers, inches from my ear. The heat of his breath sends goosebumps along my skin.
I startle back, almost falling over before my hand catches on the cold ground. “Arandur’s festering phallus!”
He chuckles as he sits next to me. “That’s a good one. Though, as much as I enjoy you insulting the man, it’d be nice if you could stop mentioning him entirely.”
I exhale as my racing heart slows. Barely.
While the shock of his sudden appearance is dissipating, I’d be lying if I said my heart ever behaved around Emlyn—his being fae hasn’t put the slightest damper on that.
If anything, it’s even worse now that he’s stopped using a glamour and I’m drowning in fae charisma with every glimpse of him.
“Yeah, I’ll try.” I rub my temple. “It’s only a twenty-year habit to break.”
“You were cursing when you were one?”
I blink. He knows my age?
That’s right… He was with me on my birthday.
Despite the darkness, his amber eyes sparkle with an inner, golden light. They used to be duller, but I don’t miss that. They’re more beautiful now.
Stop thinking about him that way.
“Probably? My first word certainly wasn’t ‘dada.’” Not that I know what it was since my mom didn’t give a damn.
I wrap my arms around myself and glare at the lifeless fire. Yesterday, I would’ve just, poof! Made a new one. Now, the thought of doing so makes my skin crawl.
“Something bothering you?” Emlyn asks.
A bitter huff escapes me. “No, not at all. Everything’s great. I’ve only spent the last decade unknowingly violating the spirit of the earth a hundred times a day.”
“The Land. But I don’t hold it against you—you didn’t know. Now that you do…” He shrugs. “We’ll see who you really are, I suppose.” The light in his eyes softens, and mine drift down to his lips.
No. Nope. Don’t go there. He’s fae, remember?
The entirety of my chest sinks with my next exhale. Why is that a problem? I’m the problem. Me. The human. We’re the ones destroying everything.
I stare down the remains of the firewood Ellie and I collected last night, then pick up a couple of sticks and shove them into the pile of smoky embers in front of me.
“That’s not gonna do anything,” Emlyn says.
“Well, I don’t know how to make a fire without incanting, so it’s the best I can do.” That’s me. A life wasted on incanting, and now I have nothing.
Emlyn’s eyes seem to narrow—it’s too dark to make anything out, but the glowing disks of his irises compress. He pulls out his waterskin and takes a sip, then leans forward and brings his hand next to the dying embers.
A blaze spurts into the air, igniting all the sticks I just added.
“Wait, what?” I shift closer to the fire, glancing between his face and the flames. “Did you just—”
“That’s shaping, not incanting.”
“Shaping? You mean fae magic?”
With the firelight frolicking on Emlyn’s face, the annoyed scrunch of his brows is visible. “It’s the gift of the Land that mortals wrest out of Her to incant. I can’t create fire, but I can shape what already exists. In this case, turning a spark into a flame.”
Wait a second.
“You said your gifts faded while you were here.”
Emlyn leans back, propping himself up as he stretches out. “You’ll never stop trying to catch me in a lie, will you?”
I force my gaze to stay on his face and not travel along the toned length of his body. To not remember the fire between us when he pressed it against me that night in the alley.
Looking at his face isn’t any better. Those playful curves along his smooth, flawless skin. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as if he knows it.
I turn back to the fire, adjusting where the hem of my pants catches on my boot. “Then explain yourself, or I’ll just believe you can lie and never trust a word you say.”
“You shouldn’t trust a word I say. I may not be capable of lying, but I can misdirect and omit the truth all I want.”
“Great. So all of this—everything you and Taran have said—could just be an elaborate trick after all.” I can say that because I’m human, even though I know deep down that every word has been true.
Emlyn sighs, then shifts his position until he’s sitting next to me, tilting his head to meet my eyes. “I don’t think I could misdirect about that much without slipping up, and Taran certainly couldn’t. I haven’t intentionally deceived you since I told you what I am.”
Either the heat of the fire is finally warming me up, or his proximity is.
I swallow. “But you did slip up. You said you didn’t have your gifts, but you do.”
Emlyn holds up his waterskin. “I told you about the river water, remember? I drank enough every day to maintain a glamour. Not enough to shape. But now that we’re going home, I can afford to waste some trying to impress you.”
The blaze rushing through me is definitely not from the fire. “Why do you care about impressing me? I’m just a corrupt human.”
Emlyn purses his lips, then he shrugs. “Good question.”
Not an answer. Is that the spy in him, keeping his secrets? But there’s one other question, one that’s haunted me for weeks. I have to try.
“Why did you sleep with Alexis?”
Emlyn’s mouth slowly opens, then he shuts it, chewing at his lip before finally averting his gaze. His voice comes out soft, lacking its usual luster. “I suppose I thought I was growing too attached.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. “To me?”
His eyes flick to mine for a second that somehow holds a weight as vast as the universe. Then he scoots away, brushing his hands on his pants as he gets to his feet. “I’m gonna look for Taran. I’m sure he’ll want to leave once it’s light out, which should be soon.”
The breath I was holding escapes as he meanders toward the trees, my chest tightening as he goes.
Why can’t my life go back to being simple?
It isn’t much later that Emlyn returns with Taran, and sure enough, it’s just as sunlight creeps over the hillside. Thank Arandur Ellie’s still asleep—wait, no, I shouldn’t thank him, he’s the one who set us all down the path of desecration, dammit.
At least she’s still sleeping. She’s been eyeing Taran far too much.
I get it; I really do. He looks exactly like Caeo, if someone carved him out of marble and gave him an extra four inches of height, chiseled muscles, sharper cheekbones and piercing eyes.
While Caeo’s too much of a brother to me to ever be attractive, I’ve caught myself staring at Taran more than a few times.
Of course Ellie would. She’d have to be blind or dead inside not to.
Especially when she doesn’t remember Caeo—at least not consciously. I know part of her does, because I’ve seen her sketchbook. It wouldn’t surprise me that part’s mixing the two of them up.