27. Willow
Chapter 27
Willow
D espite sleeping well in Fox’s bed, I stumble into the courtyard, bleary-eyed and miserable at the crack of dawn. Last night’s events weigh on me, leaving an odd mix of irritation and dissatisfaction.
The urge to be with my mates grows stronger each day. Wolves aren’t solitary; we run in packs, sleep in piles, nuzzle, and touch.Crystal City suppressed these instincts so thoroughly that I feared I’d killed that part of myself. Five years in Elphyne with my family, and with Tinger, flirted with reawakening it. Now, after bonding with Fox, being close to my mates is an itch I’m desperate to scratch.
Bodin seems to have warmed up to me, but Legion avoids my touch. Emrys glares with loathing. Styx remains a puzzle. And Varen . . . he’s complicated.
At least I have friends. My frown lifts when I spot Geraldine and Max waiting on the frost-encrusted grass. They wear exhibitor uniforms with warm, fur-lined capes. The cool air has glazed their eyes and painted their cheeks and noses pink. Clouds bloom from their lips as they warm their hands with breath. I hug my woolen cape close and ask, “Where’s Peggy?”
They exchange a glance.
“Still at the stables,” Max answers.
“I didn’t know she’d started working there.”
Geraldine pulls a book from beneath her cape. “The Knight Protector woke her early to demonstrate her daily chores.”
“Oh.” My brows knit. “That was fast.”
Geraldine presents the book. “Max and I found this in the library.”
I take it, gasping as invisible ants seem to crawl onto my fingers. “It’s magic,” I whisper. “I can feel it.”
“Maybe that’s why we never noticed it before.” She shares a look with Max. “We didn’t know it was magic.”
“You think it was hiding?”
“Read the title,” Max urges.
“ The Secret Commonwealth of Faeries, Elves, and Fauns by Leonardo da Vinci.” I open the cover, admiring the elegant handwritten title. Flipping through, I find sketches and diagrams of faerie creatures with detailed scientific explanations. “I’m not sure why it feels magical,” I muse.
“It’s actually in Italian,” Geraldine explains. “But you can read it, so that might be what the magic is.”
“Italian?”
“A language from our time.” She scratches her head. “I know a little but can’t read much. It took forever to figure out the title. But if you can read it, maybe the book has changed the words to something I could read. I showed you because the author is a famous artist and inventor from . . . well, many years before even we were born. Weirdly, I found another book in the library with the same title, written by a monk about four hundred years later.”
“A copy?”
“I think he copied it, claimed it as his own, and cut anything the church deemed heretical. This version likely has accurate facts. Leonardo was renowned for documenting what he saw.” She sighs. “I wish I could read it. I could help more.”
“Give me your hands.” I gesture for them to touch the book. “I’ll try to transfer the effect to you as I did with the wards at the Cabinet temple.”
We hold our breath as I focus on the crawling ants’ path. It’s unfamiliar magic, nothing like I’ve sensed before. When nothing happens, my confidence wavers. Maybe it only worked at the temple because Titania used my stolen magic with hers. But that doesn’t explain how chaser charms work for anyone. Another person with these charms can still activate magic; no wisps are needed. Concentrating harder, I search for a connection to make the wild magic recognize them. It comes when I think of my friends’ hard work and the warmth it stirs in me.
Max and Geraldine gasp as the ants latch onto them.
“You did it!” Geraldine flips through the pages excitedly.
A warm heat fills my chest. I think it’s pride. It feels good. A small hope starts to build—maybe I can learn to repurpose other people’s magic. Titania stole mine, after all.
Max points out an anatomical diagram of a Nightmare, eliciting sounds of awe from us all.
“I’ll take this inside,” Geraldine says. “Don’t want it ruined or stolen at the Nexus.”
As she leaves, Max turns to me. “You just bent an ancient spell to your will. Could you do that before?”
“I wouldn’t call it bending to my will. I just wanted the book to recognize you like it did me.”
He arches an eyebrow. “I rest my case.”
“What case?” I look around, confused.
He laughs. “Sorry, it’s just a saying. Means you proved my point.”
“And your point is?”
“That you have magic, or at least the potential for it.”
I shake my head. “I don’t. I’d feel it.”
“But you will.” He smirks knowingly. “I bet you’ll get it back or find another way.”
I give him a hesitant look. “I was sort of thinking I could learn to repurpose magic.”
He snorts. Claps me on the back and nods. “Only the greatest thief in the world would call it repurposing.”
“Ha! Now you’re flattering me.” I narrow my eyes and waggle my finger. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing.” He blushes when Geraldine appears at the door again. This time with Bodin.Seeing him in the official House of Shadow uniform sets my heart racing. Now, I’m blushing too.
Max’s eyes follow Geraldine as she approaches, grinning at him. His expression softens, then clouds with doubt.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” he murmurs.
I nudge his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”
He shakes his head. “Look at her. She’s way out of my league. Besides, with the competition heating up . . .”
“Max,” I interrupt, “life’s too short for regrets. Especially here. Tell her.”
“Maybe.”
“Think that book has useful information against Titania?” I ask absently, pretending not to ogle Bodin as he strides toward us. Well-damn, he scrubs up nicely. His black, military-cut coat hugs broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Creased pants complete the ensemble, but they’re tight against his muscular thighs. His clean-shaven jaw and the sides of his head accentuate glossy braids knotted tightly at his crown.
“It had dragon pictures,” Max points out. “Nightmares. Faerie. It’s got to be more accurate than what they tell us at the Nexus.”
“Speaking of which, we’re late, and Peggy’s still not here.” I face the gates, dread coiling in my gut at the thought of crossing the moat. Is that flowing water, I hear?
“She’s not coming.”
Bodin’s deep voice snaps my attention back. His rich leather-and-spice scent curls my toes. To keep from ripping his collar and sinking my fangs into his neck, I bite my lip. Bad move—his eyes darken and fixate on my mouth.
“Why isn’t she coming?” Max’s question breaks the spell.
Geraldine looks expectantly at Bodin.
“I’ve tasked her with my duties here while I’m”—Bodin’s eyes flick to me—“reassigned to conduct training at the Nexus.”
“Won’t that hurt her chances in the trials?” I ask.
“Peggy’s withdrawn from the exhibition.” His gaze slides to Geraldine and Max. “The offer extends to you. There’s work here at the keep.”
My heart plummets. I hope this isn’t just another ploy to keep my friends from weighing me down. “But they’d be safe from deportation to Nocturna?”
Bodin nods. “They’re no longer Nothings. We need trusted staff.”
My eyes narrow. “You mean you need them here so other Radiants can’t pull secrets from their minds.”
“That too,” he admits.
Max and Geraldine are stunned.
“It’s safer here,” I say, trying to mask my disappointment. Facing the Nexus without friends is daunting but better than risking their lives.
“What if we want to win?” Geraldine asks.
“You think you can beat our Shadow?” Bodin grumbles, gesturing at me. “There is only one winner.”
I bristle at the implication I’d hurt them to win. “I know people die a lot in the trials, but many still survive, right?”
Doubt flickers in his expression. Before I can retort, Max puffs out his chest. “Who says it can’t be a team effort?”
“Only one dream becomes reality.” Bodin’s eyes meet mine—a warning to them, a reminder to me. Win and free Fox. That’s what matters.
“We don’t care about the prize.” Geraldine touches her new scar-free face, then meets Bodin’s hard gaze. “I don’t even care if I get scarred and wounded again. Willow needs allies. It’s not like you can enter the trials to protect her.”
“How do you not care about the prize?” His eyes narrow.
“It’s not like Titania can actually turn back time.”
“She can’t?” I gasp. “I thought this was an all-encompassing wish.”
“We’ve been looking into it,” Geraldine replies. “There are parameters to the prize. Isn’t that right, Sir?”
I catch a glimmer of respect in Bodin’s eyes as he nods. Not just for their loyalty but for Geraldine’s cleverness.“Naturally, it must be within her power to grant.”
She turns to me and explains, “Titania can’t even raise our loved ones from the dead—that was you, not her. So if we can’t have our family back, we make the most of this one.” At my teary eyes, she adds, “Shit happens, Willow. We need to move on.”
Bodin produces small onyx skulls on delicate chains from his pocket, pinning them to their uniforms.
“This charm,” he explains, “blocks mind-reading and eavesdropping on private thoughts. Wear it always outside the keep. Touch to activate a silencing ward. Anyone you want to be included must touch you or activate their own ward.”
When it’s my turn, I ask quietly, “Where did you get these?”
His eyes meet mine briefly before focusing on pinning. “Styx gathered them last night.”
My heart clenches. “He did?”
Bodin’s fingers linger on Fox’s embroidered shirt beneath the pin. His brows furrow, and his eyes close with a sharp breath. Worried he’s having another dizzy spell, I reach for him, but he steps back. “Let’s go.”
The gate’s vines crack open. As the others start walking, I hesitate. Bodin turns, his frown deepening.
“Must you cause trouble so early?” he growls.
“We should talk about last night,” I murmur, scowling as I pass him. “And this isn’t trouble. It’s toeing the line.”
I want to win as badly as he does. I want Fox back, and I’m not sure I trust Cait and her Rogues to find the mirror in time—or deliver it to us if they do. This means the only other options are convincing the Radiant bonded to the Baleful Hunt to release him from the stone or winning the trial and wishing for it. The thought twists my gut with anxiety.
Max and Geraldine wait ahead at the rope bridge spanning the moat. My heart leaps when I realize my ears are right—the moat isn’t completely frozen. Water flows between chunks of broken ice.
Bodin stops beside me. “Interesting.”
“Shouldn’t it be solid?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“Yes.” He scans the skeletal trees, whistling sharply, as he spots a raven. It caws and lands on his outstretched hand. After a moment of eye contact, the bird caws again and flies over the keep’s walls.
“Keep walking,” he instructs.
Geraldine and Max cross the bridge, but fear locks my limbs.
“Everything okay?” I ask, glancing after the raven.
“I’ve alerted the Commander about the moat.”
He tries to hurry me along, but I resist with a nervous laugh. “I didn’t know the birds worked for you. Peablossom said they belonged to the queen.”
He frowns. “A misperception we encourage. Ravens have always belonged to the Morrigan.”
“Right. And she’s your mother. Right.”
He blinks. “You’re stalling.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Concern fills his eyes. “Fox’s letter mentioned you might still have a phobia.”
“He did?” I frown. “How long was that letter?”
His hands slide around my waist, lips dipping to my ear. “Long enough to detail how he tried to help you overcome this fear.”
I squeak as he hoists me over his shoulder, crossing the swaying bridge with a warrior’s easy grace. I glimpse Geraldine and Max on the other side as his stride swings me. First, they’re giggling, then walking ahead. I tell myself the heat in my cheeks is from hanging upside down. It has nothing to do with Fox’s letter or with wondering what else he thought was important enough to write.
On solid ground, Bodin slides me down his body. His hands stay on my hips as he searches my eyes.
“Do you truly regret last night?” he asks.
It takes a moment to gather my thoughts. We’re so close. His heady scent fills my senses. His warmth, his hard body, muscles flexing beneath his coat. Damn, he’s strong.
“Yes,” I admit. “I shouldn’t have hurt those women.”
“Those women?” He blinks, confused. “I meant what I did with you. What I tasted.”
“My only regret with you was that it didn’t last longer.” I trace his bottom lip.
A low growl rumbles in his throat. His nostrils flare, and he curses softly. “How can I focus enough to protect you? It’s impossible.”
“So give in.” My lips part as he sucks my finger into his mouth. “Why fight it?”
His teeth clamp down. Ouch. I yank my hand back, scowling.
“Because distractions get you killed,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “You seem to remember well today.”
“Perhaps because all I can think about is how you tasted on my fingers and how much better you’ll taste directly from the source.” With a frustrated growl, he strides ahead down the wooded path.
Smirking, I jog after him. He’s already slowing. “That’s not really why your memory seems better, is it?”
He gives me an amused look. “When Styx shifts out his otherness before me in the morning, it helps anchor my memories during the day.”
Geraldine and Max are frowning at a tree trunk covered in crudely carved symbols—moons, stars, and other strange glyphs.
Bodin curses, quickly ushering us past.
“Graffiti,” he mutters. “Coded messages of dissent.”
“What does it mean?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing good.”
“You can read them?”
“No. But they’re appearing all over, usually before a riot. Probably a call to action.”
“Riots?” I share a concerned look with my friends.
“Keep moving,” Bodin says. “Change is coming, whether the nobility wants it or not.”