Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

F rustrated as he was by Juliette’s constant distrust, he would be a fool to pass up this opportunity. The only real question was, how did he explain losing control? The Compass Points knew of his childhood. Juliette never let him entirely forget it. They knew he could lose control, volcanically, earth-shatteringly, but they also knew of the leash he kept on his powers.

He looked at Rose, and his magic strained toward her, even as he thought about the iron grip under which he held it. She was the one person he’d lost control in front of twice in almost as many weeks, and she still hadn’t feared him. Didn’t fear him. By all counts, she found his lapse somehow endearing. He shook his head. It didn’t have to make sense to him. He just had to accept it.

Juliette was another matter. Juliette would publicly flog him for any perceived wrongdoing. Juliette would believe the worst in him until there was no other option but to deem him not horrible. What could he even say to her to illustrate what she’d likely experienced?

“You know what? Forget it—” Juliette started.

“Wait.” He held up a hand. “I’m trying to think of an answer. You must realize it’s not an easy thing to describe.”

That paused Juliette’s retreat. She waited, arms folded over her chest.

“Did you call your magic any differently than you normally do?” Luc asked.

Juliette shook her head. “I called it the same, but its response was quite different.”

“Were you”—his gaze locked on hers—“angry when you called it?”

She seemed to consider this. “No, but I will acknowledge other uncomfortable feelings.”

Luc felt that response in his bones. It was never a single feeling that could be easily identified but a collection of emotions that built up to discomfort. Luc thought of the memory he’d shared with Rose. Thinking his brother was missing, seeing his brother held against his will—no matter how much he tried to convince himself that Aaron wasn’t in danger—a collection of emotions shook through his body the same way he shook the earth. How could he ask Juliette to name just one? “Understood,” he said. “Let’s focus on that.”

Juliette nodded cautiously. Rose had moved closer to his side. Her stance was unsure, like she knew he spoke of something difficult for him, but she wouldn’t interrupt this time between him and Juliette by reaching out and taking his hand. Her hand stretched toward his in some internal struggle, then fell to her side as she cocked her hip toward him, getting as close as she could without interrupting—wanting him to know she was within reach.

He couldn’t catch his breath as he unraveled the thought. He had someone who cared about him beyond his brother now—Rose cared for him—deeply enough to stand with him against the other Compass Points. Did Juliette have the same? Her body language told him any further questions about herself, her magic, or her life, would be unwelcome. He would have to share something of himself and hope she made the connection.

“I remember one of my big explosions as a kid. It was never just one thing. It was a single drop of water that made a cup overflow. The kids at our village school picked on my brother, telling him his dad was a pushover, that my mom was unfaithful. Then, when I came to defend him, they told him I was an abomination and that standing too close to me would contaminate him.” Luc wiped his hand down his face. He hated thinking about these stupid memories—the idiotic things children said.

“It wasn’t just that I was mad at them for saying these things or confused about why Aaron was still standing there, listening. I wasn’t even worried that some of it might be true. It was the utter lack of control over the situation. Nothing I could do or say would change those kids’ minds. And the worst part was what they were saying had absolutely no impact on their lives. Our parents’ relationship didn’t mean anything to them. My unnaturalness wasn’t their problem.”

Luc stopped, though he had just been warming up to his rant. Rose’s hand had slipped into his, somewhere around “unnatural.” He looked down at their linked fingers, and his magic thrummed through his body. Unsurprisingly, Juliette’s focus was also on Rose when he looked back up.

“I’m sorry,” Rose said, not letting go. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Luc could read her well enough to know she was only half sorry. Sorry her action stopped the conversation, sorry it brought his rant to a standstill, but not sorry that she showed him her support.

“I don’t think she’s really sorry,” Arie’s voice was in his head, and from Rose’s eye-roll, he was sure the exact words echoed in hers too.

She squeezed tighter.

“What I’m trying to say,” Luc said, “is that it feels like you can’t do anything right. Anything you do makes the situation worse or at least more complicated. Everything, even your own actions, is out of your control.” He paused. “And I don’t envy anyone who feels that.”

Silence fell as Luc finished. Was what he had said enough? He hadn’t told her how to regain control, but for him, just knowing someone else struggled as he did helped. The worst thing for him as a kid had been realizing no one else lost it like he did—realizing how different he was.

Juliette nodded and said, “I think we should try again.”

No one objected. The Compass Points retook their positions, Rose leading as she quickly made the internal connections. Her stream of water shot forward to the collection of trees. Luc’s earth magic joined her, lifting debris and spinning around her water again. Carter’s flame followed. Mixing with the others, its heat sent steam circling the combined stream.

This time, it appeared Juliette found a more graceful entry. Rose whipped Juliette’s wind around the steam, tamping it back down into the pillar of elements blasting across the grass. Juliette’s wind didn’t break their flow. It bound them, tightening their connection, pressing them deeper together.

Rose exhaled shakily at his side. Luc glanced at her and realized that they were doing it.

She had been right. Of course she had been right. They could do this.

The Compass Points could unify their power. They found the connections to channel enough magic to challenge a god.

Rose moved their stream of elements to the left and the right. Luc felt his magic split, no longer only flowing through Rose, but another tendril circled her as she worked. He didn’t pull it back or try to control it. He understood its intention and, for once, approved. It wrapped around her, encouraging her and supporting her.

She relaxed into his power as it surrounded her, giving their streams a final push against the trees she’d pointed out earlier. Their magic split a single trunk into a collection of woodchips, exploding at the force of their combined power.

They’d done it. She had done it. They would have never made it this far without her. He couldn’t hold back his magic as it swept her to him, his arms already waiting to catch her. He and his magic were more in sync regarding her. It liked the internal connection it held to Rose’s lake of power. He liked it too. His eyes met hers as he thought of the perfect way to celebrate this win with her. “Should we do another makeshift forge tonight?” he asked.

Rose’s stare turned suspicious, likely wondering if he was really offering what she thought he was. He nodded, and her smile lit up her entire face. She could explore his power again. She could make him a weapon.

“Yes, I think we should,” she replied.

With Carter’s fire fueling the forge, Rose went to grab Luc’s sword from her saddle bag. He still had a bad feeling about this, but with one look at Rose, at her excitement and desire to do this for him, he was powerless to stop her. He wanted her. He needed her, and his power was in stark agreement. Rose evaluated Arie’s magic yesterday—a literal god—she could handle whatever his power was. He trusted that she knew what she was doing. He so badly wanted to believe Arie when he said Luc’s magic wouldn’t hurt Rose.

Rose wasted no time getting started. “I don’t smell any pine or cinnamon, Luc,” she called as she went to work with her hammer.

Luc didn’t need to be told twice. His magic was already reaching for her. It was funny to him that she focused so much on the scent of his power. Though he was one to talk. The rosewood and vanilla scent of her magic made him forget how to breathe. He inhaled deeply, trying to take in every inch of her. The smell was all-consuming to his senses—perfectly representative of the strength and peace she brought him.

He focused on his magic, redirecting it to break a nearby rock into tiny pieces. Mentally, he sliced one sliver of the rock off after the other, as easy as a warm knife slicing through butter.

“I won’t even begin to comment on what that activity says about you,” Rose said as she closed her eyes, and he felt her magic surround him.

“It means that I’m precise in my control,” Luc commented, letting his hand fall palm up.

“Hmph,” Rose said, not opening her eyes. “More like a unique way to de-stress, which requires your full attention.”

Luc folded his arms across his chest and kept slicing with his mind. He got a little rush each time he targeted and sliced off a particular rock section. She might have a point. “I’d be more than happy to give you my full attention,” he replied instead, his lip curving into a smirk he knew she wouldn’t see.

Carter coughed politely, indicating he was still within hearing distance. He backed up, trying to give them space but staying close enough to keep the fire hot. His green eyes danced in the firelight, though. Luc swore there was amusement in them. A flap of wings out of the corner of his eyes told him Arie had also joined them. He sat comfortably on Carter’s shoulder, watching the Vesten Point fan his flame while he oversaw the experiment.

Hopefully, Arie and Carter would be up next for a magical test.

“Okay,” Rose continued. “I’m going back in.”

Luc wasn’t sure he was ready but took another clean slice off the rock and said, “On your mark.”

Rose’s magic danced along his skin. It was almost as familiar to him as his own. He couldn’t remember a time before he understood her magic, though in reality, that time was mere weeks ago. Her magic brought its own balance to Luc. Even as it twisted and skittered along every part of him, he knew he had nothing to fear. He relaxed into it, and her power sank into him, as if his shoulders falling was the permission it needed to make itself more welcome in his body.

Her magic swan dived into his chest cavity, burrowing into his very being. Unsure of what to expect next, he held still. Last time, she said she had been falling down a tunnel to the core of his magic.

He cut one more thin slice off the rock before a memory emerged. He knew he and Rose were watching it together.

He was still uncertain about his role with the Suden Point. After Michael first came to him, they met regularly. Michael insisted on coming to Loch instead of asking Luc’s family to bring him to Compass Lake.

Luc was okay with that. It was already understood in Loch that he was odd, maybe even unnatural. Michael coming to see him only solidified what they already thought. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like at Compass Lake, where the courts would watch his every move. There was no need to subject himself to that kind of scrutiny.

Michael sat in his stepfather’s office. When he visited, he stayed at the local inn but used the extra room Aaron’s father had at their house. His stepfather worked as a magical farming strategist. On the days Michael was there, he arranged to teach in the fields. Luc thought his stepfather enjoyed his job. At least he was always excited to tell Aaron and Luc about his work with humans and other Suden, to develop new sustainable agriculture methods.

On the other end of the spectrum, Michael did not appear to like his work. He was constantly rubbing his temples or putting his forehead in his hands on the desk when he thought no one was watching. But Luc watched keenly, knowing Michael’s job would be his someday.

“This will all be your problem soon enough,” Michael said to Luc as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Luc didn’t know how to respond. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t you want to know what the problem is?” Michael asked.

“I’m not sure it’s relevant, sir.”

“We’ve talked about this. You should call me Michael when it’s just us.”

“Yes, si—I mean Michael,” Luc said as his cheeks flushed with his mistake.

“I think it is relevant for you to know, by the way. It’s relevant for you to know that your court and the other fae leaders will question your decisions at every turn.” He sighed heavily. “It’s relevant for you to know that many will try to use you for your influence and power. You will want to believe they are interested in you, but the hard truth is, most won’t be.” Michael tilted his head, considering Luc. “In your case, given the gossip about your power, you may have a separate set of problems. You will scare others. And fae don’t always act rationally when they’re scared. Especially if it’s not a feeling they experience often.”

“Are other fae afraid of you?” Luc asked. He knew his power was different, but he also thought there was something about the Suden Point position that made others wary.

“Not in the same way they will be of you.” He ran his fingers through his short hair again. He had brown skin and black hair. He looked about forty, but that meant nothing in the world of the fae courts. Luc gathered that he’d been in this position for over two hundred years. His hand gestures, his fingers at his temples, or his hands through his hair, were the only evidence of his age. They were the only signs of stress, showing the weight that he carried.

“What problem are you dealing with today?” Luc asked. He needed to prove that he was more than his magic. He would be worthy of this position in other ways.

“How much do you know about the creation of the fae courts?” Michael asked.

Luc shook his head. He didn’t know much beyond the fact that the gods created them to preserve balance. It never occurred to him that he’d need to learn more.

“I am the second Suden Point in the court’s nearly five-hundred-year history. It will be my duty to tell you some of the mistakes of my predecessor, as well as my own.”

Luc knew better than to ask what they were. He let Michael share what he wanted in his own time.

Michael nodded his approval. “When the courts were created, and after Zrak sacrificed himself, the balance of the magic was rumored to be somewhat unsteady. I have no idea whether that was true, but I know that my predecessor took it as an opportunity to try to overtake the Osten court. I guess it was either them or the Vesten as our neighbors on Compass Lake.” Michael sighed. “He tried to subjugate the Osten Point, and while he failed, barely, it has given the Suden Point a bit of a legacy.”

Nodding, Luc considered this. A failed coup would not be ideal for any leader. He couldn’t imagine the damage it did. He was about to ask another question when there was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Michael asked.

“Rebecca, sir,” Luc’s mom replied without opening the door.

Michael gestured for Luc to get behind the couch so his mother wouldn’t see him when she stepped into the room. Luc didn’t question the order. He hid, and Michael invited his mother in.

“Thank you for seeing me, Michael.” She searched the room, clearly deciding it was just the two of them. “I wondered if we could talk about Luc.”

Michael gestured for her to continue.

“I just wonder if it would make sense for him to stay with you more permanently at Compass Lake?”

Michael’s head shifted slightly, the only indication this was an unexpected inquiry. “You would be so eager to see your son away from home? In such an unfriendly place?”

His mother must have noticed her mistake as her eyes widened. “I-I—” she stammered, but Michael cut her off.

“Speak plainly.”

“He doesn’t fit here.”

The words hit Luc like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from his lungs.

To assume this was one thing, to hear kids taunt it was another, but to listen to his mother state it was something else entirely. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t hear this. Why had Michael made him stay?

Michael’s eyes narrowed, and his lips flattened into a straight line. Maybe he hadn’t anticipated this conversation. Perhaps he regretted Luc being here for it. Michael seemed to choose his words carefully, considering what was appropriate in front of all present.

His mother had no such discernment. “He scares the villagers. And they react poorly. Loch hasn’t been the same since that child died! Part of me knows it’s not his fault, but he also does nothing to stop it. It’s like he enjoys their fear.”

Luc froze. He knew that using his power made others go away. Lately, when he was in a situation where his control was fraying, he let his magic scare away the bullies. He didn’t realize his mother had noticed. But this way, he didn’t lose control… No one actually got hurt, not like with… He still couldn’t think about the hole without guilt swallowing him.

“I don’t think being here is good for him,” she said.

“Good for him or for you?” Michael asked harshly.

His magic squirmed. He wanted to defend his mother, say that of course it wasn’t good for her if he was gone. That no matter what he did, she’d always have a place for him here. Her words cut off his train of thought?—

“Both!” Her voice rose. Luc could see her shoulders sag after the word came out.

Michael looked at the ceiling as he let out a long breath. “Fine. He can’t come to Compass Lake, but we can start him at the Suden military academy in Sandrin. It’s a few years earlier than I intended, but at least they’ll want him there.” Michael choked on the last thought as if he hadn’t intended to say it aloud. His gaze darted to where Luc hid.

Rebecca’s gaze followed, finally recognizing the shock of black hair barely visible behind the couch. Her hand covered her mouth, and she fled the room.

The memory ended, and Luc opened his eyes. He was staring into Rose’s. She waited for his acknowledgment and then wrapped her arms around him. He looked over her shoulder. She had made quite a bit of progress on the sword now cooling beside the fire.