Chapter 45 #3
‘Want some company?’ Kyor offers. ‘Not sure I’ll sleep, but I can sit and draw.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ I tell him.
I look at Benny. We haven’t spoken yet, of my part in Ruben’s death. I don’t know if he blames me as much as I do, but I would understand if he does.
Whether he feels my eyes on him or not, he doesn’t look up, spreading the riverweed around his plate instead.
Now isn’t the time, no matter how miserable I feel, and no matter how I wish I was anywhere but here.
With my plate as empty as it’s going to get, I stand from the table, pushing back my chair, only to immediately drop back down into it as the world slides out from under me.
The suffocating heat is instantly recognisable as the High Hold. How I was ever comfortable in such humidity, I cannot fathom, and as I open my eyes, confusion takes hold.
Plants surround me. Tendrils and vines wrap themselves around trunks that stretch towards the ceiling. The ceiling? I’m inside. Inside a building filled with plants.
It takes me longer than it should to realise I’m standing in my mother’s orangery.
A glance behind me reveals an open window.
Not open all the way, but a good six inches.
More than enough for a cunning raven to slip through.
Not only that, but the inner door to the rest of the house is open.
Not wanting to waste any time – and risk the chance that I return to Isthyr without seeing my family – I hurtle through the aperture.
As I move into the kitchen, nerves take hold.
I’ve not forgotten what happened when the Torailians saw me in raven form.
The arrow that flew towards my avatar. Kay would be far less deadly, but significantly less demure too.
She would probably throw a chair, or some other such item, at the omen of ill luck, but she’s not my primary worry.
The last thing I want is for William to strike out with his ice magic and freeze my avian heart here and now.
Thankfully, I move through the empty kitchen seamlessly, and when I reach the hallway, the sound of voices drifts down from Kay’s bedroom.
Upstairs, I find the door ajar, but as tempting as it is to go inside, I don’t.
‘Do you think that’s why I lost the baby?’ she says to Jonas. ‘Do you think it’s because of the magic?’
‘Please, my love, don’t do this to yourself.’
‘But do you? Do you think my power is why we lost the baby?’
My heart lurches within my chest. Kay’s magic has finally come through. This is what I’ve been waiting for since I won the Retterheld, and at last it feels as if there’s a glimmer of joy growing within me, yet it’s replaced almost immediately with fear.
Which magic? Surely she’s not talking about Issen magic? Or her Torailian heritage?
Which magic is now running through her veins? If it’s Issen, it could be a death sentence if she can’t control it.
Shit.
I need to know the answer. I need to know what she can do, and there might be a sign within the room – flowers cascading on the wall if she took our mother’s magic, or maybe she’ll be creating swirling winds with our father’s skills, or the possibility I fear: frost covering the windows or thin stalactites hanging from the ceiling.
Please, Gods no. Not when I’m so far away from her.
I take one tentative footstep forward and cast my glance inside, but I can see no sign of the magic she now possesses. No flowers, no breeze, no ice. Nothing.
‘We can’t ever know for certain, my love,’ Jonas says.
‘And I know it’s difficult, but it doesn’t help you to worry.
To fixate in such a way. There’s nothing we can do.
Sometimes, these things are just as the Goddess wills it.
The most you can do now is focus on the future. On mastering your magic.’
A laugh comes from Kay, but it’s not one of happiness. It’s one of bitterness. Of hurt and pain. ‘Mastering? How do you think I can do that? You said yourself you’ve never seen anybody do such a thing.’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘And if people find out… It’s dangerous, isn’t it?’
Jonas doesn’t immediately answer.
My tiny heartbeat thrums against my ears. Please, Gods, no. Please don’t put her in danger that way.
‘You know your power is not the same as your siblings’,’ Jonas says. His words offer me minimal relief, and from Kay’s pallid skin, she feels the same. In my mind, I’m conjuring more weird and wonderful skills that could put her at risk, like my abilities with magical transference.
I think of Ruben’s wide-open eyes and shudder. I pray Kay hasn’t inherited the same skill.
‘But—’
‘No, listen, my darling. It’s not. Believe me, you don’t need to fear like this.
I wouldn’t even know what you could do if you hadn’t told me.
And I’m not alone in that. No one will know.
No one. It’s impossible for anyone to see such a thing.
And I won’t tell anybody, you know that.
On your life. On mine! I would never tell anybody about your magic. You’re safe,’ he promises fiercely.
She bites down on her bottom lip.
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she says slowly. ‘But Jonas, when it happens, I’m so alone. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What use is it? Why would the Gods gift me a power that makes no sense?’
‘It will make sense, my love,’ Jonas replies. ‘It may not yet, but it will one day. I’m sure of it.’
With my head still full of questions, I watch on as Jonas cradles my sister in his arms, rocking her gently in the way they will never get to rock the child they lost.
It reminds me of the way I would comfort her in the slums, when she would be frightened by the screams that rattled outside our flimsy door. The way I would hold her close, singing softly to try to drown out the noise. Trying to protect her from the world beyond.
More than ever before, I see that I’ve handed the baton over to Jonas now. I’m no longer her protector. He is. And it’s a terrifying comfort.
Without warning, Kay sits upright, looking Jonas in the face. ‘I just wish William was here. You will check your father’s house again? He needs to know about this development. I need to know if he’s done the same.’
‘I know.’ Jonas sighs. ‘And you don’t need to worry about William. He has many friends in the High Hold. He’ll merely be enjoying his time with them. He’s fine.’
Kay’s small nod is more than enough to free a tear from her glazed eyes. ‘I know. It’s just … I wish Rose was here. She would know what to do. She always does. Without her … William is the only family I have.’
‘No,’ Jonas argues, ‘he’s not. You have me. Always. And if William’s not back by nightfall, I’ll go looking for him, okay?’ Jonas replies. He presses a gentle kiss on her forehead, and she lies back into her pillow.
‘Thank you.’
He places his hand against her cheek, drawing her in for a kiss, and I suddenly feel as though I’m intruding.
I edge backward.
I don’t need to be here anymore, and I don’t want to be either. I need to be with my friends. They’re hurting too. All of them. In Isthyr, I can at least try to comfort them with words and my presence rather than acting as an unseen lech in the shadows.
‘You’ll find your way out of here by yourself, I hope,’ I mutter to my bird form. ‘I’m going to try to leave you to it now.’
Leaving these visions – these slips – is not something I’ve mastered, but I know exactly how I plan on trying it this time.
Closing my eyes, I think about the light Ruben taught me and feel the sensation flood into my toes first. I’m planning on letting it flood all the way up my body, but as it happens, it’s barely reached my ankles when I feel the yank.
Thank you, yet again, Ruben.