CHAPTER 31

The dark, dank air slapped me in the face the moment our feet stepped through the portal of splintered light. When Tarron's power receded, it gave way to nothingness. There was no light here. Without the reassuring hand holding my own, I'd have believed that I'd been tricked into meeting death itself.

The darkness was heavy, each breath a struggle as though moisture filled the air in abundance. I dared not let go of Tarron's guiding hand.

"Where are we?" I asked, and the echo of my voice carried on as it travelled through the space. No matter how hard I focused or strained my eyes to make out just a small detail of the destination, I saw nothing. Fear should have reached me, but it seemed to be kept at bay by Tarron's touch.

"Somewhere we can talk freely." Light exploded to life at my side. It illuminated a glow over Tarron and me, a small spinning orb which hovered above Tarron's free hand. It was as though he held the golden sun in his palm. The light spread as the orb grew in size until I could make sense of old towering walls and a curved ceiling above.

"Farrador has always been known for having one of the greatest tombs across Wychwood." Tarron smiled, skin glowing with golden light as though he too gave off its power. It lit him up from the inside as though he harboured a star beneath his skin. "It would not usually be my choice of visits after a dinner, but needs must, and all that."

"You've brought me to talk among the dead?" A shiver passed over the skin of my exposed neck as though a ghostly finger tickled across it.

"Well." His smile reached his glowing eyes, giving him a sense of mischief. "When you say it like that, it sounds as though I have bad taste. But we can speak freely without the worry of the dead relaying the secrets we have to share. Are you frightened, Robin?"

"Creeped out yes, frightened hardly."

I let go of his hand now that I could see around me. There was a reluctance from him to pull his fingers away, but he did so without refusing. I put space between us, noticing how the barren tunnel before me made even my footsteps echo. "I have so many things I want to ask, but all I can think about is knowing how you do this."

"Do what?" Tarron followed me at a distance.

"You use your power so freely, in ways that I cannot fathom." I'd seen Althea conjure flame with ease, but it seemed Tarron's power of light gave him more uses than I would've thought possible.

"You understand the law of magic in Wychwood, do you not?"

My eyes traced over the stone figures that stood guard on either side of the tomb. They each were unique, faces differing in detail, but all sharing the same look of rest with eyes closed and hands crossed over their chests, men and women, young and old, and each shared a resemblance to the living Cedarfall family; I could recognise the familiarity in each etched stone.

"Power is in blood. The larger the court's family, the weaker it is. The smaller, the more from the pool of magic they can call upon."

"So, they have not kept everything from you…" I wanted to ask what he meant, but Tarron carried on as though he meant to interrupt the time for questioning. "There are only a few of the Oakstorm Court living, myself and my father, and an uncle whose way I prefer to stay out of. Whereas the Cedarfall family share the magic bestowed upon their line across the hordes of their children and family, I do not. It gives me access to the strains of magic that would have been shared out if my family had not been taken from me. When an Oakstorm dies, their power returns to the pool. That is what determines the potency magic, how many have access to it. We've all paid unfair prices in this life, no cost weighs heavier than another."

"I'm sorry," I felt the need to say, as his light wavered at telling the story. My question had, unnecessarily, caused Tarron to explain the loss he had endured.

"Never be sorry for something you are not responsible for. You have lost far more than I could imagine. At least my father still lives. Whereas you don't have a family. You share your magic with no one else. It is solely yours."

"Still does not mean I have any sense of controlling it. The power inside feels wild and untamed." I raised a hand before me, focusing on the coil of magic in my chest. I had to coax it to listen, silently begging for it to do as I wished. The air around my hand crackled as I forced the coldness within me to reveal itself. "Even now, I'm not sure whether it will listen or decide I'm unworthy of command and devour this room entirely."

Tarron's lips pursed into a line of concentration. He closed the space before me, pressing his free hand upon my wrist to hold my hand up in place. "I see that the power you were destined to have was kept from you by iron all these years. I heard about the bracelet your mother bestowed upon you and how it kept your destiny at bay. You may believe that it is the reason as to why you struggle to command your abilities, to fully explore them, but you are wrong."

"Enlighten me then, Tarron."

He released a sigh, eyes narrowing in on mine. His touch was warm and assured, and so was his attention as it was completely on me as though I owned him.

"The moment you realise that the magic within is not a separate entity to who you are, will be the same moment you finally command it without hesitation and fear. The magic is you, just as you are the magic."

"You make it sound easy." I looked up at him through my lashes. His fingers drummed across my wrist as he still held it, a shackle of flesh, tethering us to one another. If he didn't need to hold the light across the tomb, I was certain both of his hands would've been on me.

"Being yourself should be easy, Robin," Tarron said, voice quiet. There was no need to talk loudly as we stood so close. "Now, show me what you can do."

"I shouldn't."

"Why not?" His eyes never left me.

"Well, what if I hurt you?" Or myself . The last time I'd used my magic to stop the gryvern, I nearly lost myself to it.

Tarron looked at me dead in the eyes as though he wished to study the soul I hid within. "Then I would wear the scars like a badge of honour. You think I should fear you, but I do not. I have faced far greater threats. Now do it, Robin. Show me who you are."

Part of me longed to pull away from him and refuse, but there was something about his bright-sky gaze that I knew deep down I couldn't say no to. Even if refusing was the right thing to do, everything about the princeling before me was the opposite of right. I wasn't certain if that was a good or bad thing.

With Tarron holding onto me, I closed my eyes, giving in to my inner darkness. I reached down for the coil of power, keeping my reluctance at bay as I took hold of it. I imagined it as a hand, reaching for something that belonged to me and no one else. I took it without hesitation and lifted it from the cage it had so willingly made within me.

I scrunched my face as the gentle kiss of cold fell upon me. With my eyes still closed, it felt as though butterflies of ice flirted with me, landing upon my head, my cheeks, and any exposed parts of skin that I revealed. When I opened my eyes, I saw what caused it.

Snow fell upon us, released from the pregnant cloud of mist that grew above our heads. I laughed, surprised by my reaction. But I was doing this. Me. The magic was beautiful and calm, not frightening and dangerous. I knew it could be at my whim, and that made me feel a sense of control I hadn't experienced up until this point.

"See," Tarron whispered, flecks of snow falling upon his brown curls, where they melted. "That was not so bad, was it?"

"I can't believe I'm doing it." I couldn't comprehend how I held onto the power, but it was as though it reflected the inner calm I felt, thanks to Tarron and his words.

He let go of my wrist and reached a hand for my cheek. My breath hitched as he reached for me, but his thumb only brushed away a flake of snow that rested upon my cheekbone. "Perhaps I am a fool to give you the advice to embrace who you are meant to be. It will likely scupper the plans I have spent years aiding and perfecting."

There was a sense of hesitation to his touch as he pulled away. The snow thickened as my emotions changed from calm to a type of disappointment that surprised me. "Then why do you want to help me? You keep doing it, and I don't understand why"

Tarron's light dulled for a moment, and the orb he controlled without effort shrunk in size until the tomb became dark and only we were bathed in light. He finally dropped my gaze, looking to the floor as he contemplated a thought that clearly bothered him. "I do not believe I have the ability to answer that question."

I reclaimed the magic that I'd released until the snowflakes ceased their small kisses across my exposed skin. Tarron didn't look back at me, even though my mind screamed for his attention. The silence between us was long and painful.

"I think we should head back," I said finally. "Before Gyah discovers we're missing and alerts Erix."

"Yes, perhaps. We wouldn't want to make him feel… contested," Tarron replied. "But do you not wish to know what I wanted to tell you before you run off? The very reason I asked for your company tonight?"

With everything that had happened – had been said – it had escaped my mind. "I do."

Tarron sliced his hand, the air before him parting in two. He conjured a spindle of light that exposed the view of his chambers once again. I expected him to offer a hand for me to follow, but he did not. He kept his back towards me as he spoke. "To claim the court, you must offer a trade to the power, just as the founding fey had. Magic is in blood, and it is that blood you will exchange, in full, as the first did."

It was the same story Erix had shared – the answer staring at me in the face this entire time.

"Why would you tell me this?" In little words, he had confirmed what the stories and poems suggested.

"As I said." He glanced back at me. "I am a fool."

He took a step forward, one foot through the portal of light. I snapped out, willing for him to wait. "I have to bleed and make room for the power that is left unclaimed."

Tarron was hesitant to respond. In a way, I believed he would not, that he'd step fully through the portal without answering my question. "Magic isn't simply in your blood. Magic is your blood."

I pondered his words as he finally stepped through the portal. I understood the difference between us finally, even what set Althea apart from me. And with his answer, I knew what I had to do.

As I followed Tarron through the portal, my mind could only contemplate one loud thought. The answer to what was required of me to claim my fate.

And I knew it involved visiting the Icethorn Court without another moment to waste.