Light Wielder (Fire & Metal, #2) — Chapter 26

Chapter 26

JO

The clock on my desk ticks the night away until the sky begins to lighten, the rising sun casting a haze of gray across the sky. I tap the end of my charcoal pencil against the parchment on my desk.

My mind has been spinning all night, sleep a futile endeavor.

After Acker left, Fredrich gave me a wolfish grin, and after making a teasing remark about hoping my Match had as much fun as he did, he left before any awkwardness set it.

I still can’t believe Acker was able to withstand the three layers of mangi I was wearing. On the rare occasion I’ve removed the stones from my body, it felt as though the far end of the tether was unmoored. Like a fishing line that snapped in the ocean. I’ve never tried to follow it, assuming any attempt would be in vain, knowing how smothering the mangi can be.

But Acker’s found a way. He’s conditioned himself to withstand the power of the stones.

It’d be impressive if it wasn’t horrifying.

My mind is in chaos as I try to untangle the memories. There were so many nights I’d awoken from a dream that felt too real. Or mornings where I’d find something wasn’t where I’d left it the night before. Letters shuffled around on my desk, texts open to a different page, the blanket pulled over me when I had no recollection of covering myself. Mind tricks meant to torment me, to figure out my agendas.

But the haunted look on his face when he saw me with Fredrich has polluted my mind, filling me with doubt. That moment when he realized there was nothing he could do to stop Fredrich. Despite that, I don’t regret

my decision. Not with the way Acker’s gaze had heated and he decided to give rather than take away, as if it were his taste and his voice and his touch driving me to the peak, eclipsing everything else.

I look at the ticking clock once again. I’m supposed to meet Messer for conditioning soon, but there are only a couple of hours left before Drake is due to escort Acker and Irina to their awaiting ship. I’ve spent all night wavering over whether or not Acker deserves to know the full depravity of his father’s doings, or if he’ll just use the knowledge to further hurt me.

I suppose I’ll find out.

By the time I get dressed and make my way to the stables, the sun has made its full appearance. The stable boy is unprepared to see me at this hour of the day, but he’s quick to get a gelding tacked and ready for me. I slip him a couple of coins as an apology for disrupting his morning chores.

The horse handles well as I push him into a full gallop once we’re outside the city. The wind is frigid, the sun not yet having had the chance to burn off the early morning chill. I head east toward the farmlands, where the river flows from Mount Zallis and curves far inland before swooping back toward the gulf. Farming families flourish near the fresh water.

Cottages dot the landscape, but there’s one in particular I’m interested in.

Once I see it from a distance, I stop the gelding, allowing him a moment of rest and a drink from a shallower stretch of the river. I refill my waterskin and take the opportunity to wash away the fine layer of sweat that chills my skin. I wipe my forehead dry with the back of my riding glove before I remove them both and stuff them in my pocket.

As I reach for the layers of stones around my neck … I hesitate. I chose not to take them off the entire way here just in case I changed my mind, but now is the moment of truth. I decide to quit letting doubt dictate my decisions. I take off the necklace and then the gyve, having to lift my shirt to pull it from around my abdomen.

My magic immediately responds, coming alive below my sternum, warming me from the inside out. A slight glow radiates from my hands as I prepare my mind to split, for the Bond to take me to Acker of its own volition. But when long moments pass and nothing happens, I feel for the tether. Unlike how it’s felt for years, lax and unattached, it’s now clearly anchored to the other side. Keeping a hand on my horse’s reins, I follow it.

His voice reaches my ears before I see him, inflamed temper evident in

the way he clips his words.

“—told you I would, didn’t I?”

When I open my eyes, I’m standing in the bedroom of the cottage.

Acker’s pinched gaze swings to me instantly.

I’m relieved they’re at least dressed.

Irina doesn’t notice the shift in his demeanor. “If I get on that ship, I’m never going back home, Acker, and you know it.”

His eyes never leave me, as if we’re the only ones in the room. “Let me talk to Jovie. I believe after last night she owes me a favor.”

Arrogant of him to assume … “She wants to return to Strou?” I ask Acker.

“Yes,” he says with a small nod.

Catching on, Irina’s eyes widen as her gaze flits about the room, but of course she’s unable to detect my presence. “Please,” she pleads, knuckles white as she grips the footrail of the bed tightly.

I consider the odds that they’re hiding motives unknown to me, but I can’t think of any reason Irina returning home would benefit either of them.

“I have something to show you,” I tell Acker.

He looks at Irina. “Give us a moment.”

She’s not happy with the lack of engagement from either one of us regarding her situation, but at least she knows better than to push. Acker shuts the door behind her. A new tension settles over the space between us.

When he left last night, it was with a look of mixed anger and desire, and it seems he’s still battling with himself, unclear on which emotion supersedes the other.

“There’s someone I need you to see,” I say, before he’s able to decide.

“It wouldn’t be the executioner, would it?”

I’m surprised by his levity, and I shake my head with a small smile.

“No, but you may witness my own life end, depending on what kind of

mood she’s in.”

“She?” he asks, stepping closer.

“It’ll make more sense if I show you, instead of trying to just explain.”

He eyes the open pack on his bed. “I’m supposed to be getting on a boat in an hour. By your order,” he reminds me.

“Yes, but I can’t let you go back without knowing everything. We should have plenty of time if you follow me through the Bond.”

For the first time since I appeared to him, his defenses lower the tiniest amount, and he nods in acquiescence. He sits on the bed with his back to the headboard, feet crossed at the ankles and hands folded over his stomach.

There’s something so inherently primal about seeing him laid out on a bed that I take a fraction of a moment too long to look away.

He smirks. “After you,” he directs.

Back in the field, I refocus on the reins in my hands and the wind in my hair. Acker appears moments later, blinking against the sun. He takes in our surroundings and the cottage in the distance, before setting his dark eyes on me.

“That’s where we’re going,” I say, nodding toward the cottage.

I lead the horse by reins, and the gelding moves smoothly beside us as we traverse the field of tall grass. I’d expected things to be awkward between the two of us after last night, but we fall into a comfortable silence.

Even during those first days when he was hiding in my shiel in Alaha, after I broke him out of the brig, it was easy to be in each other’s presence.

It doesn’t, however, make it easy to look at him. That’s more painful than ever.

My curiosity gets the best of me. “Why does Irina want to return to Strou?”

“Her life at the capital hasn’t been easy for her,” he says, walking with his hands in his pockets. “She’s homesick.”

Interesting. “And you convinced her to flee the palace with you?”

“I promised I’d do my best to get her home in exchange for her help protecting us from your armada as we crossed the gulf.”

I’m perplexed by his answer. I inspect him for any sign of dishonesty, but can’t find any in his seemingly open expression. Then I recount Irina’s pleading when she realized I was present in the room with them and it felt like raw emotion.

“I can’t help facilitate her over the Strou border,” I tell him, “But if you want to sail across the gulf to their shores, I won’t stop you. I’ll tell my armada to stand down to let you through.”

He tilts his head to look at me, and it makes me feel out of depth for a moment. “That’s very kind of you,” he says, almost as of he is shocked I’m

capable of kindness at all.

Once we reach the cottage, I speak as if I’m whispering to the horse as I tie him to a post anchored in front of the short path leading to the front door.

“I can’t let on that you’re here, so don’t do anything stupid.” I check the windows to the cottage before risking one last look at Acker. “No matter what you learn, okay?”

He must sense my nervousness because he takes my warning seriously, eyes searching my features for an explanation. “All right.”

His steps sound behind me as we walk up the stone pathway. While none of the plants and bushes lining the path are in full bloom this time of year, there’s no mistaking the care and love that went into maintaining them. The garden curves around the steps, along the front of cottage before disappearing around the small home.

Taking a deep breath, I knock, nerves sending my heart into a frenzy.

When the door finally opens, Grenadine’s appearance is exactly as I remember it from our time in Alaha, when she lived in the shiel below mine on Urchin Row. Gray hair, withered features, and a hunched posture. Her expression is as derisive as ever, a smile revealing yellowed teeth.

“Brynn,” she says. “Or do you go by Jovinnia, now?”

I lift a brow. “Either is fine. Although, ‘your royal highness’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Her smile grows. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, my queen?” she drawls.

“I’m sure that by now word of your son’s arrival in the capital has spread this far.”

Only I can hear Acker’s intake of breath behind me.

I hold my features still as I inspect Grenadine—I’m sorry, Cadence—for a reaction, but come up empty-handed. Acker’s presence at my back looms nearer. I can feel the heat of his body between my shoulder blades, the hint of his breath across my neck. He’s standing that close to me.

“You know my stance on the matter,” she says sharply.

I nod, because I do know. But … “I think you should reconsider.”

She thinks about it for a long moment, her gaze shifting over my shoulder before she relents, standing to the side as she opens the door wider to allow me to enter. “I just happened to put a pot of tea on.”

My heart races in my chest as I step over the threshold. I’m careful to close the door slowly enough to allow Acker time to follow behind me. I hold my breath as I feel his fingertips press into the center of my spine, a signal that he’s with me the entire way.

Cadence’s cottage is quaint but filled with luxury. The furniture is made with the best craftsmanship, textiles woven from the finest silks, and gold- embossed paintings hang from the walls. After she and a handful of other fugitives from Alaha arrived in Maile by commandeering one of the ships, my mother gave her a hefty amount of wealth to live on. She may be your mother-in-law one day, my mother had explained.

The old woman walks to the small kitchenette and takes down a second cup and saucer from the cupboard. “Sugar?” she asks with her back to me.

“Yes, please.”

“Did you always know?” Acker asks, voice low even though Cadence can’t hear him.

I take the moment to steal a glance at him. It’s nothing more than a flick of my gaze, where I offer him a wordless shake of my head before I avert my eyes, but by the stonewashed color of his face, I can see he’s in shock.

“One or two cubes?”

“Two, thank you.”

“Sit,” she instructs, carrying a serving in each hand.

I slide into one of the two chairs at the small table and accept the tea she slides toward me. She motions to the plate of uneaten toast and jam, already plated. I shake my head and she huffs in annoyance at my turning down her hospitality.

She adjusts her robe into a more comfortable position about her ankles as she sits, eyes full of mirth as she watches me tentatively sniff the scalding liquid before blowing on it. “It’s not poisoned,” she assures me, “but we can switch if you’d like.”

I watch her over the lip of the cup but follow Acker’s movements out of the corner of my eye as he ventures closer, steps imperceptible as he navigates more clearly into line of sight beside us, in front of the windows overlooking the small garden.

“You love my mother too much to harm me,” I remind her, unnecessarily.

One eyebrow shoots up as she risks burning her tongue with a sip, licking her lips after. “That is true.”

She places her cup down and settles her gaze on me.

My mother always says the first to speak in a stand-off is the first to lose. Cadence isn’t my opponent, any more than I am hers, yet the tension in the room suggests otherwise.

I need to tread carefully. “Acker leaves within the hour.”

“Hmm.”

Fiddling with my cup, I make idle circles around the rim with a finger as I inhale the steam. “I think he should know the full scope of what his father is capable of before he returns to Kenta.”

“Was he able to sway you that easily?” she asks, eyes dancing over the table. “A couple of days is all it took to weaken your resolve?”

“Beau believes he’s being honest about his determination to take his father’s throne.” When she doesn’t comment any further, I lean forward.

“Don’t you want to warn him?”

In the blink of any eye, anger shines from her eyes. “You tell him.”

“Given our history, I’m not exactly considered a trustworthy source.

Plus, I don’t know everything. Not really.”

She sneers before turning her head toward Acker. My heart skips a beat before I realize she’s staring out of the window, and not at her son. A little color has seeped back into his face, but there’s a carefulness to his features, something wary and guarded as his eyes remain fixed upon his mother’s now aged face.

“How do I tell him that I ran to save myself?” Her voice is reedy, like she’s squeezing the words from a closed throat. “That I abandoned him to be raised by a monster for my own sake?”

My mother had told me Cadence had apprehensions when it came to facing her son, to not push her on the subject if it were to arise, but I never expected this level of emotion from her. Her eyes are misty as she continues to look through her son and at the morning sky beyond.

“Maybe explain why you needed to run in the first place,” I suggest.

Her face sours with disgust. “Edmond had been siphoning my magic

from me for years.”

I ask, “How?”

“With a slatstone,” she says, like it’s obvious.

But I am as thoroughly confused as I am disgusted by the concept.

“What’s a slatstone?” I repeat, dubiously.

She rolls her eyes, as if my skepticism is bothersome before leveling me with a look. “It’s a stone that’s been lost to history. Thought to be a myth by most scholars, but capable of pulling the magic from someone.”

I’m almost scared to ask, but … “How does it work?”

And I’m only subjected to another withering look. “It acts much like a magnet. If someone knows where to find where the magic resides within a person, it’s essence can be extracted through a wound.”

“Is it only Edmond who has the stone?”

“He did,” she says with a smug grin, brow raised. “That is, until I stole it and dropped it into the deepest parts of the ocean. If he’s stealing magic, he must have found another.”

Acker’s voice is gravely in the small space. “The mines,” he says, knowing only I can hear him. “That’s why my father has been disappearing to them for years.”

Mangi stone is found in the ocean, and hearthstone from deep within the earth. And now there’s slatstone?

I resist the urge to look at Acker, but I can see him shift from the corner of my eye. “He used this stone on you.”

“He needed to test the method. I didn’t want to give him my magic, but I volunteered to let him try in the hope it would pacify him enough to leave Acker alone.” She rolls her eyes. “As if Edmond could ever be capable of restraint, even when it came to his own son.”

A new, unfettered fear weighs heavy in my gut. It takes everything in me not to look at him standing mere feet away when I ask: “He took from Acker?”

Blinking, she shifts in her chair before turning her gaze to her tea. “No.

Acker hadn’t shown any signs of awakening, but Edmond began to get restless around Acker’s tenth birthday. I could see the idea taking root in his mind, to force magic upon our son before he was ready. Before his awakening.”

I shake my head, horrified. “Most don’t awaken until fully through puberty.”

“Most, yes. But other powerful families in the territory have had children awaken early. I thought, if I could withstand the slatstones’ pull

that I could impede his efforts. Delay him, somehow. At least, until I could figure a way to get us out.”

“My mother never explained how Edmond managed to do it,” I say, dancing around the truth.

She swallows, the sound loud in the tiny apartment. “He started not caring how deep he cut, desperate to get to my magic, using hearthstone to stop me from healing.”

From the corner of my eye, Acker wipes a shaking hand across his mouth, and I can only imagine how difficult this is for him to hear.

“I’m not sure if it was his desire for power or the euphoria that propelled him to become so adamant, but by the time he was finally able to source my

gift, I’d nearly bled out.”

“How did you manage to get free?”

“Greta.” A small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “She told Edmond my death was inevitable, that she had seen it in her dreams, and to cart me off with the bodies already rotting from a flu that had swept through the city. She paid a merchant to get me on a ship to

Alaha.”

“Where you couldn’t heal.”

She shakes her head. “I think Edmond took every drop of magic I had that day, making it impossible for me to truly return to the way I was before, not even if I’d remained on land.”

My voice comes out shallow. “May I ask what your gift was?”

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at her lips. “I was an

elemental. Metal.”

The same as Acker’s.

Something like a choked cough comes from Acker, having come to the realization of who his mother is: the old woman I lived above through my teenage years. The very same woman we bribed to be quiet during our escape. Not dead, as he’s been led to believe.

“If I am to tell all of this to my son,” Cadence says, leaning forward, and there’s a glint in her eyes I don’t like. “Are you going to tell him the real reason your mother handed you the crown?”

I do my best to appear indifferent, fingers tightening around my teacup to keep my hands steady. “It won’t change anything.”

“No?” she says, her smile turning more serpent-like by the second. “You don’t think my son would care to know the agreement you made with Roison was in exchange for sparing his life?”

My blood freezes in my veins. She knows. She knows Acker is here.

She looks around the space as if she might actually see her son. “You think I was married to a man who was Bonded to another without learning their tricks?”

I rise from my seat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She does the same, planting her hands firmly on the table as she leans toward me. “I don’t?”

With a quickness I didn’t expect her to possess, she yanks the knife from the open jar of jam and has it poised for my jugular in the blink of an eye. I reach for her wrist, but the dull blade is pulled from her grip before I ever make contact. Both of our heads whip toward Acker. My heart breaks as I take in his expression. Stony, with red-rimmed eyes. He looks between me and his mother, fist tight around the knife.

Cadence tracks the movement of the knife in his hand, the only thing she can see as her eyes flood with tears, as if she didn’t truly believe he was here until now. “Son,” she says, voice cracking. “Please, forgive me.”

He shakes his head slowly, either in response to her plea or simply because there are too many emotions happening for him to voice anything.

His hands are still trembling.

Cadence’s tears fall steadily, eyes darting around as if she could see him if she just looked in the right place. “You have to understand, I never wanted you to see me like this.”

Acker swallows hard before looking at me. “Leave,” he orders.

“Acker—”

“Now.”

Rightfully chastened, I take one last look at Cadence before I turn for the door. The sound of her heartbroken sobs follow me outside.