Chapter 53
It’s dark in the hidden library below Greta’s desk, so I carry a lantern from stack to stack. I peruse the shelves, eyes jumping over the spines as I search. The exhaustion in my arms from training this morning is starting to catch up with me, especially after spending the night with Acker. That said, recovery isn’t as arduous as it was in Alaha. A gift from awakening and quicker healing on land, thank the gods.
I retrieve a book I find interesting and place it in the small pile I’ve accumulated on the floor. Hearthstones and Talismans, Dark Magic, and now Weaponry.
An enthusiastic voice comes from behind me. “I did it!”
Yelping, I spin around and find Acker standing on the study table. “Are you trying to kill me?” I say, hand over my pounding heart.
“Landing could use some work,” he says, stepping off the table and bouncing on his feet. “But not a bad start.” He leans in to kiss me.
“How are you here?” I say, setting the lantern on the table.
“The tether,” he says, placing his hand over his heart. “It goes both ways now. Better yet, we can control it.”
I push him in the chest. “Why would you do it? Where are you?”
“Relax. I’m alone in my room and I still have complete control of myself.” He blinks out of existence, only to emerge on top of the table again. “See?” He leaps from the table and kisses me again like he can’t help himself then scans our surroundings. “Where are we anyway?”
“Oh, you don’t know?”
He peers around. “Not that I can remember. Is it part of the hidden passageway in the walls?”
I lift my brows at him. “If you don’t know, then I’m not telling you.”
He grins at my teasing, hands caging me in among the stacks. “I can take an educated guess and say it has something to do with Greta.”
“Don’t drag sweet Greta into this,” I say, toying with the buttons of his shirt.
“These books are old.” He wipes the dust from a title, reading it aloud.
“Hunting Dragons.” He snorts. “What are you looking for?”
“I came to find a text on hearthstone, but anything that catches my interest, really.” I undo his top button.
He crowds closer. “Did you find anything interesting?”
I undo another button. “It’s the oddest thing, but something interesting found me.”
Reaching for his belt, he unfastens it, lips grazing mine. “Do you think Greta would mind us defiling her hidden library?”
I smile when I reach his pants and undo the tab. “We should be quiet just in case.” I feel him line himself up to my entrance, and any retort falls from my mouth as he pushes in.
He lifts me with one arm around my waist, pinning me to the shelves.
“That seems like a you problem.”
“You were saying?”
We’ve been together three times since our first, and I’m convinced it gets better every time, this one included. He drives into me with intention, each push of his hips a mission to break my vow of silence, hand wrapped around my shoulder to hold me in place. The other braced on the shelf beside my head.
He pinches my chin after we’re dressed, kissing me through short breaths. “Let’s place a wager on it next time, yeah?”
Then he disappears right before I reach for a book to launch at his head, his laugh echoing off the walls. Greta has the grace to pretend she knows nothing of my transgressions when I place my books on the counter.
“I know you know,” I say, cheeks scarlet as I look at her. “And it won’t happen again.”
She adjusts the spectacles on her nose, smiling. “Don’t make empty promises,” she says, returning to the spine of the book before her. “I can see
the future, remember?”
That only serves to deepen my blush.
She laughs. “I am the king’s consort, my darling—there’s nothing you could ever do that would scandalize me.”
“I didn’t realize you and the king were still…”
“Oh, no,” she says, glancing up. “We have not been together in many years, but the label still applies in the eyes of the court.”
I check the empty library and sit on the edge of the desk as she works.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she says. “I’m an open book.”
I smile at her analogy. “It’s just … were you in love with the king?”
Her fingers slow where they’re taping down the lining of the inside cover when she looks up. “I was, yes.”
There’s a sadness in her eyes that tells me not to push. I reach for my books and thank her for allowing me inside her secret library.
“Although a little less secret than it was this morning, I’m afraid,” I say.
The smile returns to her face. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about, Jovinnia. You can never get loving someone wrong.”
I let the same words of encouragement that Beau gave me sink in for a moment before departing, issuing her one last thanks in return. I’m almost to the door when she calls my name.
“The king was not always the man you know him as today,” she says, giving me a pointed look over her spectacles. “Every gain of wealth and power comes at a cost. It chips away at your soul a little each time. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
She’s brazen to broach the subject of power when the king has so much of it, but I dip my head in a Kenta nod and give her a small, perceptible
look.
“I do.”
I take the hidden hallway to my room and spend hours poring over the text on hearthstones, comparing it to what I can find in the book on weaponry. It reiterates what Acker’s already filled in for me: weapons made
from hearthstone belong wholly to the maker, they’re the only weapons capable of cutting someone’s magic from them, and they’re very rare, the materials difficult to find and cultivate.
Uma, the destructive light wielder Acker told me of, was overthrown with hearthstone. She was betrayed by her lover, who ground the material into a fine dust and laced her food with it, causing Uma to fall gravely ill.
Despite proving the queen wasn’t as untouchable as people had believed, there’s still a lingering fear of anyone who wields light. After reading about her transgressions, I almost don’t blame them.
My eyes begin to cross as I navigate back and forth between the texts.
Both books were written long before King Edmond took the throne, and even before the recorded reigns prior. There’s no way of determining their accuracy.
There’s this insistent longing to draw, and I keep glancing toward the sketchbook Acker gifted me. After what feels like the hundredth glance, I reach for it. I don’t know if Acker is still able to see inside my mind if I draw, but there’s only one way to find out. Bending back the spine, I place the tip of my pencil to the fresh paper and close my eyes.
I was beginning to wonder if my love of drawing was tied to Alaha somehow, like my loneliness was what drove my art, not my creativity, but no. It came back in full force after the Matching Bond snapped into place.
Opening my eyes, I start with a long drag of my pencil, enjoying the feeling of it on the page. Drawing has always helped clear my mind. I spent the majority of my days in Alaha looking forward to climbing to the roof of my shiel where I could let myself just daydream. I drew anything and everything, learning composition by trial and error. I started by sketching simple trees, then boats, and later birds and insects. I didn’t move on to more difficult subjects such as humans until Kai.
I sigh. Kai.
Truth be told, I don’t know if I loved Kai. I mean, I know I loved him— do love him—but I didn’t love him. I can see how I got it confused. He was my best friend and closest person on an island of people who didn’t want much to do with me. Of course I would cling to the one who claimed to love me, the first one to kiss me, to ask how my day was, to want me.
But it’s nothing in comparison to what I feel with Acker. It was easier than it should have been to leave Alaha, to leave Kai behind. I know if there comes a point where I’m forced to leave Acker, it has the potential to ruin me.
I inspect my work thus far and hate it, but that’s to be expected at this stage. I’m trying to draw a horse from memory, but it seems obvious enough that it’s not a serious attempt, especially with the ribbon and tiara giving away its real identity—me.
I hear Acker’s laugh behind me a moment before he kisses the side of my neck at the exact spot I still always catch him obsessing over.
“I love it,” he says, wrapping his arms around me. “Thank you.”
“You seem to have an awful lot of time on your hands today.” I turn to look at him. “Why are you so sweaty?”
He lifts a brow at me. “Why don’t you come find me?”
“I’m studying,” I say, tapping the texts.
“Suit yourself,” he says. Then he disappears.
“He’s going to drive me crazy,” I say out loud in the empty room.
I close my eyes. The only time I traveled to him while awake was when I was in the bath. I was thinking about him then, but that can’t be the only cause, because I think about him a stupid amount all the damn time. No, it has to do with the Bond.
I concentrate on the tether. It no longer feels one-sided, but instead complete.
Whole. Unwavering. I follow it like I do when I call my dagger. The floor ripples beneath me, and then I’m standing in the courtyard. Hallis and Acker are standing in the center. Three dummies are positioned at the longest length of the yard.
Acker smiles, all teeth as he looks at me, not at all surprised to see me.
“Come here.”
It’s strange to be walking in one place and sitting at my desk in another.
I concentrate on picking up my pencil, drawing a happy face on the edge of my sketchbook. Then I blink and I’m standing in the courtyard again,
picking up where I left off.
“How?” I ask, shaking my head.
He does the same. “Your guess is as good as mine, but I have a whole list of new questions for Wells.”
Hallis adjusts his grip on a hatchet in his hand, tucking it under his arm.
“Assuming you haven’t completely lost your mind,” he says to Acker, eyes roaming the space around his friend. “Hi, princess.”
We both laugh, then Acker trudges across the yard to the wall where training weapons and props are stored. He grabs a metal chest plate. I give him my back when he gets close, and he loops his arms over my shoulders, placing the plate to my front, securing it with leather binds around my back.
Hallis taps the center of my chest with the back of his hatchet, smiling like the boy from my dreams, all deviant and teasing.
“Ready to do some actual training?”
I narrow my gaze at him. “I don’t like the tone he’s using.”
“He’s my best mate, Jovie,” Acker says, turning me toward a row of dummies set up at various distances. “I can’t rip out his teeth.”
“Pity,” I say.
Acker’s chuckle rumbles through my back. “You need to exercise your gift. It’s like a muscle. It needs to be worked.”
“Keep in mind those near you,” Hallis says. “Including your match.”
I stand dumbfounded.
“Can I even summon my magic in this state?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Hallis says, putting the pieces together by Acker’s instruction.
“But I don’t even know how to … summon my magic.”
Acker stands to the side, arms folded across his chest. “Do I need to remind you of the scorch mark on the front of your armoire?”
Hallis shoots Acker a questioning look. “The what?”
“That was different,” I say. “I was running off of my emotions. There’s no controlling it when it’s like that.”
“That’s not true. I’ve watched you defuse your gift to keep it from getting out of hand many times, and it’s easier to get paint from a tube than it is to put it back in.”
I sigh but try to imagine a glowing ball of light in my palm. I think of the anger and jealousy I felt, recalling how he kept his betrothal from me
and summoning the memory of Irina’s beauty, focusing on my guilt about sleeping with a promised man.
To no one’s surprise, nothing happens. Maybe the guilt was a stretch. I shrug my shoulders, giving him a look that says, see.
Acker chews on the inside of his cheek, eyes moving toward the targets.
“Maybe you need more incentive.” He calls two blades from the wall, one landing in each hand, before tossing me the spare. “Let’s have a rematch.”
“Oh good gods,” Hallis mutters, stepping out of the way. “I don’t think this is going to help—”
I move just in time to block his incoming jab. He doesn’t give me time to recover before I need to block the next swing. I spin away, hoping for enough breathing room to create a game plan, but he follows me. No one is on the veranda to witness our sparring, but I can only imagine what they’d see, or better yet believe, as Hallis parries with a stumbling hunk of armour with a sword.
I’m not limber, I didn’t stretch, and my hair keeps falling into my line of sight—yet I’m able to get the upper hand and nick him in the side, the material of his shirt gaping open and exposing his skin. Acker steps back and holds his hand up to signal a pause.
“It’s the oath,” Acker says, looking at Hallis. “You were right.”
I roll my eyes. “Didn’t think it all the way through, did you?”
Hallis takes the sword from Acker’s hand, assuming a sparring stance in front of me.
“This is less than a fair fight,” I say, looking at Acker.
“Give him more credit,” he says, arms folded.
I twirl the blade in my hand and offer it to Hallis by the hilt, a customary sign of respect before sparring matches. He knocks the sword away with a swipe of his own.
“This is my one and only warning, princess. I may have one less hand, but I won’t take it easy on you.”
I raise a brow he can’t see. He’s fighting blind. The largest part of sword work is reading the body language of your opponent. The lack of a hand is the least of my concerns.
He attacks first, and I’m gravely unprepared. I make the first few moves in a desperate bid to keep my sword and body intact. Each parry is sloppy, reflexes working overtime to keep up. I yell when his blade scores across the back of my thigh.
Only then does he allow me a moment to breathe, but it doesn’t last. His arm moves like liquid, body pivoting to and fro as he unleashes an onslaught against me. There’s not a chance in hell of getting a strike in
when I’m operating on survival alone.
“Hallis,” Acker barks in warning.
The tip of his sword grazes my cheek, and tendrils of my hair float to the floor.
“She won’t learn if she isn’t pushed,” Hallis says, maintaining his focus on my chest plate as I move opposite of him.
He tilts his head, a predator chasing its prey, grin pulling at his lips.
When he attacks, I’m cut three more times: chest, hip, and calf.
“Enough,” Acker says, his hands up in a threat to call the blades himself.
Hallis lets the sword fall to his side, giving in. I use his downed guard as an opportunity to strike. It’s short-lived as he parries, regret chasing me with each of his jabs, swings, and hits that slash against my skin. I’m eating up ground as I walk backward, using my sword more as a shield than a weapon until I feel the cool stone of the wall against my back. Still, Hallis attacks, sword swinging at me from every possible direction. Eyes glazed in the heat of the battle, he doesn’t let up, sweat dripping from his temples.
Then … like in the Dark Forest and against Acker, I become frustrated at my helplessness. My magic unfurls with my growing anger and explodes from my hands, first as an attack against Hallis, sending him flying back, then igniting a flame of light down the length of my sword. Shock rushes through me and I drop the blade, the light snuffing out, leaving just a faint
glow emanating from around my hands.
Hallis isn’t moving.
Acker reaches him first, hand on his shoulder as he kneels over him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” Hallis moans. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”
Acker slaps him on the chest. “You deserved it.” He stands and watches me come closer, eyes flying over me, categorizing each mark on my skin.
“I’m fine,” I tell him between sharp breaths.
Slow to get to his feet, Hallis retrieves his fallen sword and slaps the hilt against my abdomen, placing his curled knuckles over the place my tether to Acker pulls from. “Never give away where your magic resides,” he says, voice like gravel around the edges. “You signaled it multiple times. It only takes one person looking at the right time to know your greatest weakness.”
I catch the sword so it doesn’t hit the ground when he releases it.
Acker’s eyes are masked, but I have no doubt Hallis can see the heartache his friend holds for him. Hallis slaps him on the shoulder as he passes.
Acker unties the plate armor from my chest, sending it back to its place with a wave of his hand, along with the swords.
He kisses me, quick and soft. “My bed tonight?”
I nod my agreement. Then I’m back in my room, sitting at my desk as if I had never left, either physically or mentally. There’s a burn in my muscles, a shortness to my breath letting me know whatever happens to me as a spectral visitor affects me physically as well.
With Hallis’s shorn hand in my mind, I delve back into the book on hearthstones.
