Chapter Sixteen Jasalyn

Chapter Sixteen

Jasalyn

W HEN I TAKE THE RING off again, I'm wearing a satisfied smirk. And a few other things as well.

"Are you going to show us?" Skylar asks.

"I already did."

"But you didn't do anything," Skylar says.

I arch a brow and wave her earrings in the air. On my wrists, I'm wearing Remme's beloved leather cuffs, and I have Natan's glasses perched on my head. "Didn't I?"

Her jaw goes slack. "What kind of witchery is this?" She spins on Kendrick. "She does have magic."

"I don't." My gods. I'm smiling. I don't remember the last time I gave an honest smile that didn't belong to the Enchanting Lady.

Kendrick doesn't look at her—doesn't take his eyes off me . "Tell me how it works."

"I put the ring on, and people do as I ask." Do they really need to know the rest? Would they believe me if I told them about the kiss of death? "Just like I said."

"And they remember nothing ," Remme says. He extends a hand. "Give me my shit back."

I unsnap his leather cuffs and return them and then return the others' things as well.

"You didn't take anything from Kendrick?" Skylar asks.

"No."

"Favoritism," Remme grumbles.

"Why not?" Skylar asks.

I flick my gaze to Kendrick, then shrug. "He doesn't follow my orders when I'm wearing the ring, and I didn't feel like wasting time talking him into it."

Skylar throws up her hands. "Wait, if it doesn't work on everyone, why are we even considering this?"

Kendrick drags a hand over his face. "Because I don't remember anything either. So even if I don't hand over my riches, she can walk away anytime she wants or get the rest of you to turn on me. I'll never remember a thing."

"And he's the only one it's ever not worked on," I admit. Though I still wonder about the night I saw my sister while wearing the ring. Misha and Finn were tripping over themselves like idiots, but not Brie. "It's... odd."

"Just how many people have you used this ring on?" Remme asks.

I give him a hard look. "Enough."

Natan drags a hand through his hair. "What kind of witch did you get this from?"

I shoot him a look. "The magical kind?" I snap before looking back to Kendrick. "I can demonstrate again, but no matter how many times I do it, you won't remember what happened or how I did it. That's how the ring works."

"It's not that we don't believe you," Kendrick says, exchanging a look with Natan. "But that's some serious magic."

I straighten. "You're questioning my ring when you throw around magic all the time." I wave a hand over myself and point to my elven ears. "Look at me. Look at you."

"Not the same," Natan says. He shakes his head. I've rarely seen this guy look even a little riled up, but right now he looks truly shaken. "My potions... those are surface. Even your sister's magic over darkness and shadow is limited. But the kind of magic in this ring is affecting the subconscious of everyone you come into contact with." He ticks his concerns off on his fingers. "Their free will, their future, their memory. The complexity of a magic like that is baffling."

"It's messed up," Remme says. "You're sure it's not faerie magic?"

"I don't know—are there faerie witches selling magical rings in Elora?"

"What did she want for it?" Kendrick asks.

I tear my gaze from his—as if he can see the answer in my eyes. I gave too much for this ring. Some of it was mine to give, and some of it wasn't. I'm not proud of any of it.

"I don't like this," Natan says. "Whatever this is, it's going to bite us in the ass. Mark my words."

"We don't know that," Remme says. "And it would be stupid not to use the tools we have in the meantime. She can get all of us in those gates, just like that." He snaps his fingers. "Let's do it and fix whatever mess she got herself into later."

"At what cost?" Natan asks.

"I agree with Remme," Skylar says. "Let's get in there, find the sword, and worry about the fallout later. She already has the damn thing. What's done is done."

I lift my gaze and find Kendrick's eyes still on me. I don't think he's stopped staring since I took off the ring and was wearing their things. "What?" I ask.

"What did you give for that ring?" he asks. It's the first time he's sounded angry with me.

I hold his gaze and say nothing.

"She's gonna freeze you out, brother," Remme says, nudging him. "Maybe take this for the gift that it is."

When Natan turns back to me, his brow is furrowed and he's staring as if I'm a puzzle and an unexpected piece just appeared in front of him. "Let me see it." He holds out his hand, and I withdraw, pressing my hand to my chest where I've tucked the ring away.

"Slayer," Kendrick says, his voice cautious, "if we're going to trust this ring to get us into enemy territory, I need my historian to examine it first. I promise he'll give it right back."

He's right. They have no reason to trust it and every reason to want more information. Even so, my hands shake as I pass it over.

"Thank you," Kendrick whispers.

Skylar murmurs a few words I can't make out and casts a stream of light toward the ring. The moonstone glints in the light.

Natan holds it up and turns it this way and that. "I've never seen anything like it."

I cringe. "Please be careful."

"What do you think is going to happen to it?" Skylar asks. "That he's going to drop it in his mouth and accidentally swallow it?"

Remme peers at my ring from over Natan's shoulder and frowns. "Those etchings on the inside—those aren't from the old Eloran alphabet. What are they?"

"Good question," Natan says. He tilts the ring left and right. "I'd need my books to confirm, but I think they're ancient Elvish."

"Elvish?" I ask. "You mean Fae?"

Natan spares me a glance before returning his attention to the ring. "I mean Elvish."

"I've never heard anyone call the old fae tongue Elvish." I ball my hands into fists at my sides, itching to snatch the ring back from him.

"That's because you were lied to your whole life in Elora," Remme says.

Kendrick nudges his friend. "What Remme is so clumsily trying to say," he says, "is that here the elven fae are just fae , because this is an entire realm of fae. But in a realm that has both magical and nonmagical beings—say elves and humans, but no other fae to speak of—the elves are simply elves. "

"So what realm has elves and humans?" I ask.

"Elves have lived in many realms, including Elora," Natan says.

"You're trying to tell me that the elves are an ancient Eloran race," I say, propping my hands on my hips. "And the magical words written on my ring are in their alphabet."

"Sure seems like it," Natan says, lowering the ring and handing it back to me. He turns to Kendrick and holds his gaze for so long I wonder if they're having a silent conversation.

Kendrick blows out a breath. "Everyone needs to get some sleep. I'll take first watch. We leave at first light."

"But I get to go, right?" My voice is lined with a panic I can't hide. I look to Kendrick. "Don't leave me behind."

"I never would've left you behind," he says softly.

Everyone heads to the tree line, presumably to take care of their needs before turning in for the night. I move to follow, but Kendrick steps in front of me. His eyes are luminous in the light of the nearby fire.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask.

Kendrick coughs out a laugh. "Why am I looking at you like you've been keeping secrets?" He taps his index finger to his lips. "Maybe because you have?"

"If I'd told you about the ring from the start, you might've taken it away from me. I couldn't risk that."

He glances over his shoulder toward where his friends have already disappeared into the trees. "I need you to tell me the rest. You don't have to tell the others, but I need to know."

"What else is there to tell?"

"Everything. Where in Elora did you get it?"

I shrug. "Fairscape—that's where Brie and I grew up." I glance up toward the dark sky, thinking of the tangle of fear and loathing that led me to that day. "I visited for my seventeenth birthday, and... I bought myself a ring."

"From whom ?"

"She was a witch." I'll never forget the old hag who called me into her cottage. Lured me in with promises of the wrongs she could right. "She terrified me, but she promised me a ring that would make my fear go away, and she delivered on that promise."

He takes my wrist loosely in his big hand, running his thumb back and forth across the pulse point. "But you carry so much fear."

"Not when I wear the ring." I swallow the lump in my throat. I love him being so close, and I don't know what to do with that feeling. "Or, at least, that was true at first. Now it seems like it's sneaking back."

"The magic is fading?"

I bite my bottom lip and shake my head. "I think so, but I'm not sure? Maybe not fading but changing?"

"I won't depend on this ring to keep you safe if its magic isn't reliable."

"Let me worry about that."

His expression is grim enough that I know it's not that simple for him. "What other powers does it give you?"

I step closer and lift my fingers to his lips. His breath catches. I let them drop. "A deadly kiss."

His gaze dips to my mouth and locks there. "And have you used this deadly kiss on anyone?"

I study his mouth and imagine how his lips would feel against mine, how he'd taste. "Yes. That's why I wanted it. I wanted to be rid of every person who hurt me in that dungeon."

His gaze locks on my mouth. "So you've kissed your enemies, but you won't kiss me."

"Seemed like a dangerous habit, considering."

His throat bobs. "I can see that."

Do you want me to kiss you? Is that a question I can ask?

He's still frowning. "There are very few in Elora who have the kind of magic necessary to create a ring with that kind of power. And among those who do, all have an agenda." He sweeps my hair behind my ear, then lets his fingers trace the sensitive shell and lobe. I shiver. "Very little scares me, Jas, but I am terrified to think of what she may have required of you in exchange for that ring."

"She didn't ask for anything I wasn't happy to give," I say softly.

"Tell me."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"What's the difference?"

With the hand that holds mine, he brushes his thumb across my knuckles and sighs. "Sometimes it is that which we readily sacrifice at our lowest that we most ardently desire when we emerge from the darkness."

That wisdom hits too close to the truth, and I cover the ache of the blow with a forced laugh. "Oh, and I suppose you have all this wisdom because you're so old ?" His expression seems so somber by the light of the fire, his lips so close.

"I'm older than you," he says.

"How old?"

"Twenty-one in a few months. But I've been told I'm very wise for my age." His gaze lingers on my mouth for one more beat before moving back to my eyes. "What did the witch require as her payment?"

I can't make myself answer. Shame traps the words in my throat. My life. Every minute after my eighteenth birthday. Every day that I was to spend as fae.

I never wanted that part of my life. If anything, I felt like she was doing me a favor. The months seemed to stretch out too long. I was too numb, too terrified of the monster in my memories to be scared of meeting my end on my eighteenth birthday. But now I wonder what she gained from my sacrifice, wonder if there's a way to take it back.

Kendrick's still staring. Still waiting for the answer I won't give. "I need to know if there's a problem so I know if I need to fix it," he says.

"You can't fix it."

"In a world full of magic, there isn't much that cannot be fixed."

I hold his gaze and cut myself open, just a little, because he deserves to see how broken I am. "I would've given anything for just one hour—one moment— without the fear."

Closing his eyes, he tips his head down. I think he might kiss me. I want to feel a kiss that gives life instead of takes it. I want to feel a kiss that's wrapped in tenderness and affection and not vengeance and hate. But he simply touches his forehead to mine and whispers, "I know," before pulling away.

"Why do you do that?" The words are out before I can stop them.

"Do what?"

I'm an idiot. "Nothing." I turn away, but he grabs my hand before I can go far. I stop but don't face him.

"Why do I do what, Slayer?"

"Sometimes the way you look at me is confusing. I don't understand what you want." I stare at the glint of firelight on my boots. "Forget I said anything."

Slowly, he turns me to him, then studies my face. "I'm trying to follow your rules." He's doing it again—looking at my mouth like he can't stop thinking about it.

The ache of longing unravels something low in my gut. "What rules?"

"On the day you agreed to help us with Erith, you very specifically told me not to kiss you."

I blink. "That was before you knew about the ring."

"I need you to be very clear right now, Princess." His gaze dips to my mouth and holds there. "Are you saying your rules have changed?"

My belly is riot of butterflies. Yes. No. What if I kiss him and the reality of what I've lost—what I've given away—is worse than ever? What if these nine months pass and I never know his kiss?

"You wonder what I want ?" He dips his head, the bridge of his nose skating over mine. His breath dances across my lips, and I arch into him. "You say your kiss is deadly, but every hour that passes, I feel more and more like I might die without it." His lips ghost across my mouth. "Tell me the rules have changed."

I draw in a long breath, gathering my courage. "Those rules only apply when I'm wearing the ring." I meet his gaze, watching the reflection of the fire's flames flicker in his eyes. "I don't even know what a kiss should feel like."

He cups my face in both hands, his eyes shifting back and forth between mine. "Like this." So slowly, so painfully slowly, he lowers his mouth to mine.

I didn't realize until this moment how much I needed this. How much my heart ached for it. This warmth. This tentative sweep of lips. Every kiss I've had before this moment has ended in death. Every time I've pressed my lips to another's, I've felt the life drain from them. Every kiss before this has been for the darkest, most broken parts of me, every kiss a reminder of how much of myself I lost during those weeks in captivity. But when Kendrick's mouth latches on mine, there's nothing but life. His tongue flicks over my bottom lip, and I open instinctively. He tastes like mulled cider and warmth. Like safety.

Like home.

I suck his bottom lip between my teeth because I want more of him. More of his taste. More of his warmth. He grunts against my mouth, and I fist my hand in his hair.

When he parts his lips over mine, I follow his lead, angling my head and touching my tongue to his.

I tilt my head, desperate for more of his kiss. Deeper.

His hands roam up my sides and back down, sweeping the underside of my breasts with his thumbs before he tears his mouth from mine and slowly pulls away.

It's all I can do to keep myself from yanking him back. I never dreamed of his kiss when I was locked in that cell, but I did in the years after. And since seeing him again? It's been hard not to imagine it every time I look at him.

His chest is heaving. His lips are swollen.

I wonder if that's how I look. Mussed and unaware of the world around me. I want him pressed against me again, and this time I don't want him to stop.

He traces my bottom lip with his thumb. "You are so beautiful," he murmurs. "It's no wonder that ring of yours doesn't work on me. I'm already bewitched every time I look at you." His nostrils flare, and he glances to the woods. "The others will be back soon. You should get ready for bed."

"Okay." I wrap my arms around myself and nod, not wanting to seem too pathetic or desperate by asking for him to kiss me again.

Just beyond the tree line, I spot two figures deeper in the woods—males from the look of their silhouettes. From the flickering lantern at their feet, I can make out one lounging against a tree and the other leaning over him, one hand braced against the bark while the other caresses his partner's face.

If they saw me, I could slip my ring on and get away, but I keep my steps soft because I don't want to interrupt the moment. Then my breath catches as the light reflects off a pair of glasses and I realize who I'm looking at.

It's Natan and Remme.

My chest squeezes at the sight of such tender affection, but any momentary warmth that brings is chased away by the realization that I don't really know these people. I've begun to trust them, to think they're my friends, but these two are obviously in love and have been hiding it from me.

What else have they been hiding?

As soon as I doze off, I wake up again. Over and over again—a tug-of-war between my body and my mind.

I hear the low murmur of voices just beyond the fire and roll over to see Kendrick and Natan are still up, sitting fireside and talking.

"But you're sure you went deep enough?" Kendrick asks, poking at the fire with a long stick.

Natan tilts his head back and stares up at the stars. "I'm sure." He plunges his hands in his hair, elbows pointed to the sky. "I don't understand. I could feel her power. It's smoldering there, but it's like a blank slate."

"How can it be both?"

"I can't answer that," he growls. "That's why I kept looking. Otherwise, I would've thought maybe she was right—that maybe she didn't get her ancestors' magic."

"What do you think it means?"

"I don't know, but I can't help wondering if the blood magic's to blame."

"I wondered that too." Kendrick mutters a low curse. "But no sign of power when she's a child of Mab? I've never heard of blood magic allowing anyone to take so much."

"I've never seen it used so extensively on one person either," Natan says.

"True," Kendrick says. "And then there's the ring."

"Do you believe her when she says it doesn't work on you? It must, to some degree. You don't remember anything after she put it on. We're just taking her word for it that you don't follow her orders like everyone else when she's wearing it."

"Why would she lie about that?"

Natan shakes his head. "I don't think she would. I'm just pointing out that we don't know for sure." He chuckles under his breath. "Interesting."

"What?"

"Remember the old legends of sirens?"

"She's no siren."

"I'm not saying she is, but the power she wields while wearing the ring isn't so different than that of a siren, and in the stories, who were the only men who were immune to the song of the siren?"

"No one was immune. Women, men, fae—it didn't matter. Those creatures wrecked anyone they wanted to."

"Remember the tale of Fienna?"

"I suppose I do." Kendrick's quiet for a long time. "You think that's why?"

Natan low chuckle fills the air again. "So you don't deny it?"

He scrubs a hand down his face. "You know it's irrelevant."

"I want better for you than that."

"Better is coming for Elora," Kendrick says. "That's what matters."

I've dozed off again when I hear a scuffle of feet a few yards from my bedroll.

Skylar and Kendrick face each other a few feet away, arms crossed as if they're both angry.

"What if she's still alive? What if we find her? Are you losing hope? Because may the gods help us if you, Kendrick the Chosen, have lost faith. Why are we even bothering with any of this?"

"We don't know anything right now."

"Your destiny awaits, and you—"

"You know I will do my duty when and if the time comes. I've never chosen anything over duty."

"And you're sure it's so smart to make the girl love you. Is that supposed to make it easier when the time comes?"

"I'm not talking about this with you. The winds are changing, and our fates with them."

"Perhaps," Skylar says, "but don't confuse lust for fate."

"So long as you don't confuse my friendship for deference. Remember your place."