9. Nine

Nine

I bolted upright, gasping for air as my heart raced against my ribcage. My entire body was drenched in a cold sweat—the sheets sticking to me like a second skin. I could still hear Ata’s blood-curdling screams echoing in my mind, blending with the snarls and growls of the beast that had attacked us as I shook the nightmare from my head.

I sank back into the soft, downy pillows, my hand pressed firmly against my chest. The rhythmic throb of my heart felt like a wild animal trying to break free from its cage. I closed my eyes and took deep, measured breaths, willing myself to calm down.

Each inhale filled my lungs with cool, crisp air while each exhale released the tension in my body. I focused on the sensation of the pillow cradling my head and the weight of my hand against my chest, grounding me in the present moment.

Gradually, my heart rate slowed and my body relaxed, like a storm finally passing after raging for hours. Taft’s soft breaths purred out like a peaceful, contented cat beside me. Under the covers, he shifted restlessly, his muscular back stretching upwards towards the ceiling. My hand glided down the smooth expanse of his skin, my eyes fixed on every detail of his form in the dim light.

The memory of the first time I laid eyes on him was etched into my mind like a detailed painting. He had arrived at the academy at thirteen, his clothes tattered and stained with mud. Ata and I were perched on the banister, watching as the front doors swung open. We couldn’t resist peeking through the railing of the winding staircase to catch a glimpse of the new arrival. And there he was—angry, disheveled, and scared.

Ata and I whispered to each other as we watched him, his piercing gaze shooting towards us and locking onto mine. In that moment, my entire body went rigid, as if he could see right through me. Asrai had caught us there, gawking at him and shooed us away before we could catch any other details. But I had felt his eyes glued to my back as we scurried off to our classes.

That afternoon, we spotted him sitting alone in the dining hall. Ata took it upon herself to befriend him and from then on, the three of us were always together. It wasn't until I reached my teenage years that I noticed a shift in our relationship, gradually turning from friendship to something more. As the years passed, our time together became more precious.

We would steal away in secret, finding nooks and crannies to share stolen kisses and whispered confessions. With each passing moment, our connection grew stronger, building a cocoon of love and longing around us. The halls between classes were filled with the sound of laughter and chatter, but for us, they were just a blur as we focused solely on the other. Our world was our own little bubble, where every touch felt electrifying and every heartbeat was in sync.

Our bond was forged from friendship and slowly bloomed into my first and only love story. Up until his Choice Day, I could envision the rest of my life with him. When he decided to stay, it broke my heart, but I accepted it. I knew how badly he wanted to pursue his career on The War Council—leading armies. Yet every Choice day after his first, a glimmer of hope still shined in me, hoping that it would be the year he decided to leave—but it never was.

Now, in the last twenty-four hours, everything had changed. He was forced to take a path he never wanted, because of me. And I wasn’t sure where that left us.

I folded my arms over my face, groaning at the relentless absence of sleep and incessant buzzing of thoughts in my mind. Pain shot through my burns as the soft glow of dawn crept through the slivers of space between the pines outside our window. I sucked in a deep breath and studied the wounds as I slipped from bed and reached for the robe hanging on a silver hook by the lavatory door. They will start healing soon, I thought to myself as I slipped out of the bedroom. The cool stone floor prickled at my bare feet as I made my way down the stairs, hoping to find any kind of tea that would ease me back into slumber.

I crept into the dimly lit kitchen, careful not to make a sound. My fingers grazed the smooth surfaces of wooden cabinets as I opened each door slowly, searching for a mug.

“Looking for something?” My hand slipped from the cupboard and slammed it shut as I spun around to see Landers laying on the couch.

“You scared the shit out of me.” I grabbed my chest as he chuckled and sat up.

“The mugs are on the corner shelf, and there is tea in the pot.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping in a bedroom?” I asked, pulling a large circular mug off the shelf and filling it with the herbal liquid. I twisted to face him again as I leaned against the counter, bringing the cup to my lips and inhaling the soft aroma.

“I was.” He shrugged. “I came down here for the same reason as you I suppose.”

“And what is that exactly?” I looked him over, sipping on my tea. Landers was dressed in a casual version of yesterday’s clothing. The first three buttons of his black tunic were undone, allowing me to see the contours of a sculpted chest adorned with a black ink tattoo and scars strewn across it. I shifted my gaze back to my tea before he noticed.

“Restlessness.” He gave me a tired smile, combing his fingers through his hair as he paced into the kitchen and leaned onto the counter next to me.

“What is this place?” I asked, forcing myself not to lean into the warmth that was radiating off of him.

“One of Wren’s many safe houses. He has one in each realm. We have been meeting here over the past year as he and Pri searched for intelligence on the child the realms are trying to find.”

“Are you sure we are safe here?”

“This is currently the safest place in Redelvtum. The Iron Forest is thick, and with the incantation placed on this house it would take The Silliands or Ammord months to find us. But we can not risk staying here that long.”

I nodded at his words, taking another sip of the tea swirling inside my mug. “You told us about Pri and Andrues’s abilities when we first met, but you never mentioned your own,” I said, expecting he would brush away the question, but instead he smiled at me, as if he had already interpreted my thoughts.

“That is accurate.” He nodded then propped his elbows on the counter and leaned back. I raised an eyebrow in anticipation, waiting for an explanation.

“Your statement did not contain a question. If you have one, ask it.”

I inhaled, rolling my eyes at him. “What power do you have? You seem to have more than the others.” I tucked my hair behind my ear.

“I am able to wield more magic than Pri and Andrues, not because I am stronger but because of my lineage.”

I furrowed my brows.

Landers brushed his hands through his hair, tucking the pieces that had fallen onto his brow back into place.

He was exquisite. And it was infuriating.

“My ancestors were the first Travelers, which means every generation of my lineage has had blood running through their veins from every realm.” He smiled like he was reminiscing on an easier time. “Back then, Travelers weren’t forced to flee and stay in Locdragoon. They could travel to any realm—build families. When you are born, the magic of the realm you are birthed in is infused into your blood, adding to the magic your parents passed on to you.”

“Wouldn’t the magic weaken the more . . .” I searched for the right word. “Muddled bloodlines became?”

He nodded, understanding my thought process.

“You would think so, but it actually heightens it. That is why they stopped teaching children how to wield it and locked down the realms. Back then, the realms had Kings and Queens. The High Priest and Priestesses were under them, to keep the balance, but their bloodlines were pure, so when they realized what happened to magic when you mixed realms together, it was seen as a threat by some. That is how the Great War started and we are still living in that aftermath hundreds of years later.”

The Stories at the academy didn’t speak of any of this. I don’t remember any of the copies mentioning anything about the war other than it started because some realms tried to merge to grab power. This must have been what they meant. My mind started spinning.

“Is that why it’s illegal unless you have pure blood? Because mixed magic is more powerful?”

“Greater magic—it’s called greater magic when two or more forms of realm magic mix—and yes, that is why. There is no telling what kind of magic can be created when you mix the magic from multiple realms and that scares the High Priests and Priestesses. They fear what they can not control.”

I closed my eyes, trying to process all of this new information. “What magic do each of the realms have? Until Ata . . . shifted, the only magic, outside of lesser magic I had ever seen was my shadows, and the magic Adran and Wren would use to heal a few small cuts and bruises I had.”

Landers crossed his arms, tilting his head in my direction as he answered. “Redelvtum’s magic is spell casting and potion making. These lands are fertile with powerful properties that you cannot find in the other realms, making their potions and spells incredibly deadly. Ammord’s magic is shape-shifting and emotional manipulation. It has been said that the heart of Ammord is so vile that the Gods did not allow fae to be born from that realm, which is why any witch, necromancer, or daemon you come across will always have ties to Ammord. They are the only realm with a race other than fae.”

Landers paused, and I watched as he filled a mug with tea as he continued. “It is my opinion that the Marzog Fae of The Silliands carry the most lethal magic. They possess chaos magic that can distort and rearrange reality. Some even use this magic to manipulate time if they are practiced enough. It makes them incredibly dangerous. In the Great War, they hid their army using this magic, so we were truly unprepared for how vast their forces were. They are also the only realm that can imbue items with magic which gives even the smallest of their weapons the capabilities to cause extreme harm.”

I nodded, trying to hold in everything he was telling me. I had learned more this morning about the realms than I had in all my years of schooling.

“Ithia, The Sky Vale, is home to the Yaldrin Fae healers. The very core of their realm is the Well Of Life. Even after the Great War—after everything The Silliands and Ammord did to them—they still let their waters run under their foundations. Still gave all the realms access to their healing powers, if you know where to look for it.” There was an edge in Landers’s voice as he spoke; an anger that I could sense ran deep.

“What about Locdragoon? Is that where you’re from? Or are you just helping us get there?” I asked, tucking a curl behind my ear and taking a long sip from my mug. A fleeting smile flickered across his lips before his face fell back into hard lines.

“I live there, yes. Locdragoon holds elemental magic. The Laith Fae see themselves as an extension of the fields that they cultivate; never taking in excess, and giving back when they can. They have the ability to manipulate all elements of nature. Though, they rarely use their magic unless it is for protection. They are a kind people, all they want is to live amongst themselves in peace.” The deep creases in Landers’s brow eased as he spoke of Locdragoon, and I could see the fondness he had for his home seep into the hard edge of his features.

“So . . .” I felt like an idiot for asking so many questions. I should know this. I should have already learned this. “Greater magic is when you can practice multiple forms of realm magic?”

“Yes, but it is more than that. Not only will you be able to practice magic from the realms you have in your lineage, but more often than not, mixing two forms of realm magic creates magic that is unknown to us, which is what makes Travelers so dangerous to our governments.” He let out a deep sigh, then turned to face me fully. “Tell me about your shadows,” he said casually, crossing his ankles.

“What do you want to know about them?” I kept my eyes glued to the couch where he had been sitting and took in a deep breath. I could feel the heat of his stare on my cheek.

“I have never met anyone who has the ability to call them. How long have you been able to?”

I set my mug down and fidgeted with the tie cinched around my waist. “Since I was a girl; around nine is when it started surfacing.” I sighed. “I thought I could control them, but yesterday . . .” I trailed off as tears began to build in the corners of my eyes and he moved closer.

“Last night was not your fault,” Landers said as I brushed a tear off my cheek. “Ata will be fine, and now we know you have magic we can use to help us.” I could almost hear a tinge of concern laced in his tone. His eyes studied me for a long minute.

“What?” The word came out harsher than I meant it to and he chuckled.

“We should train during the day, see what other magic you have,” he said, pushing himself off the lip of the counter and walking toward the table that was currently covered in maps of all sizes.

My eyes followed, watching as his gaze ran over the surface of each map delicately. I sauntered over to the table, curiosity getting the better of me. “How do you know I have other magic?” I asked, running my fingers along the edges of the table, peering closer to the maps.

“This is where we are.” His finger landed on the far corner of a map that was layered atop another. “This is where the realms split; about a mile from here. We have been working on creating a single map for all realms, but this will have to do for now.” I nodded, not taking my eyes off of it. “And I don’t. We won’t know if you have any other magic, unless you look.”

“Look where? Under the bed?” I deadpanned as I glanced up to see him smirking back at me.

“Inside of you.” He paused, looking me over, yet again. “Your shadows, for example. In the midst of danger you channeled power and strength you did not know you possessed.”

I shrugged, brushing a curl behind my slanted ear.

He continued as I pretended not to listen. “You have never needed anything more than lesser magic because you were safe, but now that you are outside of those walls . . . you never know what might surface to protect you and your friends.”

I tried to match his casual demeanor as closely as I could. I would have to learn this skill , I thought to myself. How he stayed so calm and relaxed through all of this was perplexing.

“Wouldn’t it have surfaced by now? If I had any other magic in me?”

“I will admit, it is odd that none of the usual realm magic has presented itself to you, but that does not mean it is not there. It may just need some coaxing.” I took another sip from my mug before setting it down on the table as he continued “The realms have gone to shit in the last few centuries.” He scoffed, like he was recalling a memory. “They used to teach children how to control and wield their magic. Now, everyone is too scared of the power that comes with it, so they leave them to find out for themselves, and when they do, that magic usually kills them because they do not know how to control it.”

“How old are you? How do you know the realms have gone to shit?” I turned my back to the maps, crossing my arms as I looked up at him.

“Have you never read The Stories ? Heard of what used to be?” He looked amused.

That annoyed me.

“I asked you a question,” I hissed and he held his palms up, chuckling before sliding them into his pockets.

“I’ll be four hundred and twenty-two in a few months.”

I nodded, trying to hide the shock. He didn’t look a day over thirty, but I guess neither did Asrai, and she was more than a century older than him.

He grinned down at me and said coolly, “Do you have a problem with my age, Hyacinth?”

“No, I—” I stumbled for words. “Other than Asrai, I have never met anyone older than maybe . . . seventy?”

He chuckled as I mentally sifted through all of my professors, realizing that there was really no way of knowing how old they were unless I had asked, which of course, I didn’t.

If the last twenty-four hours had proved anything, it’s that I should have asked a lot more questions during my schooling.

“Why are there so few of you now? I mean, so few immortal beings?”

He smirked at my question. “You know no one is technically immortal, right?”

I rolled my eyes, annoyed by his tone, yet again.

“How do you live to be four hundred and twenty-two if you are not immortal then?” I snapped.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Using realm magic slows the aging process. The reason you see people dying so early in life now is because their magic is killing them. If magic is not let out of your body, it will drain your life force from you,” Landers said, dragging his hand through his hair. “Before the Great War everyone was taught how to use and control their magic, so you saw the result of that in the length of their life. I think the last being to die of old age died at three thousand years old. Though I would never wish that for myself, it was known to happen before the war.” He met my eyes and his brows furrowed, confusion flashing over his face. “Do you really not know any of this?”

That question stung, but I had asked myself the same thing so many times over the last day. My eyes fell to the floor as I wrapped my arms around my middle. “No,” was all I could say. I felt foolish, like a child being scolded.

“How is that possible? Did you not think that studying The Stories may be helpful for when you decided to defect to Locdragoon?” His tone bit at me and anger rose to the surface.

I had studied The Stories . I had studied them all my life; pouring over them for hours, trying to learn everything I could about the outside world. But none of this was in them. Every important part seemed to be scrubbed from their pages, leaving me with only bits and pieces.

How dare he try to put the lack of knowledge on my shoulders. As if I chose to be blissfully unaware of the true workings of the realms. He knew nothing about me; knew nothing about how desperately I had tried to learn. How I had been punished time and time again for my unfailing need to know more than had been allowed.

Fucking asshole.

“You know nothing about me,” I hissed at him, my shadows growing behind my back. “You know nothing about the lengths I’ve had to go to obtain what little knowledge I do have. Truth and knowledge are not something they give out freely anymore,” I spat.

“Is everything okay?” Wren’s voice pierced through the tension in the room. I hadn’t seen him walk in. I snapped my head in his direction and he took a step back, his eyes widening at the shadows slowly filling the room.

Landers’s back straightened as he watched them, not with fear but interest—studying them as they dripped out of me, coating the floor in an inky mist.

“Cin,” Ata’s voice sounded from the corner of the room. My shadows retreated at the sound of her; slowly fading away enough for me to see her and Ardan standing at the base of the stairs. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyes narrowing on Landers. I pushed past the four of them, scowling as I sprinted up the stairs to the landing.

“What did you do?” Ata’s voice was sharp as I listened to her scold them.

“She is wound like a fucking top.” I could hear the amusement in Landers’s voice from the landing. I closed my eyes and sent a single wisp of shadow back down the stairs.

Directly into his face.

“Shit!”

I felt the slap of my shadows across his skin and my lips split into a satisfied smirk. The sounds of their voices faded as I sauntered over to the floor to ceiling window at the end of the hallway.

The morning sun had finally risen and its warm glow lit up the forest beneath me. I stood on my perch, taking in the beauty of it all.

“You know, you should probably pick on someone your own size.” Ata’s voice crept up behind me as she slid two arms around my waist and rested her head on my shoulder. I laughed softly as I leaned my cheek against her head.

“What fun is that?” I felt her smile and sighed. “Are you doing okay?”

Guilt clawed at my insides, weighing down on my stomach. Only hours ago, I had almost cost her her life because of my lack of control. I couldn’t shake the image of her lying there, hurt and vulnerable because of my mistake.

How could I have been so reckless, so foolish?

“Hey.” She twisted me around to face her as tears began streaming down my face.

It was all coming out now. Every emotion I had been holding onto since the moment I had woken up yesterday was spilling out. The terror from what had already happened. The guilt that I had forced Taft and Wren and Ardan into the life of a Traveler. The fear—the overwhelming fear of what was coming. Not knowing if the children had survived the attack. Not knowing if Asrai had survived the attack. Not knowing anything.

I looked into Ata’s eyes, swelling with tears alongside mine.

It was her screams.

Her screams of sheer and guttural pain that shattered me completely, pushing me into a sobbing mess onto the floor. She collapsed alongside me, sliding down the wall as we both clung to each other.

“We’re okay,” she whispered between sobs. “We’re okay,” she chanted the words over and over again as we sat there, and wept.

After what felt like ages, the crying faded into the silence of our sniffles and heavy breaths. I needed that release, I think we both did. I felt lighter now, the guilt still nipping at me, but lighter.

“Are you two okay?” Ardan asked hesitantly, standing at the end of the hall. The expression on his face indicated he was unsure if he should approach us, or run in the opposite direction. “I was just checking—”

In unison, Ata and I locked eyes and burst into laughter. Ardan’s brow furrowed in confusion as our bodies shook with hysterics. Slowly, he backed away down the stairs.

“Oh Gods,” Ata said between laughs. “I needed this.” I smiled down at her with swollen red eyes and puffy cheeks. “You look terrible,” she said, beaming back at me. Her face mirrored the swelling of my own.

“You should see yourself,” I shot back with a playful shove.

I wiped my nose on a corner of my robe and looked into her eyes. So much light shone through them as she looked back at me.

This woman, who had always been my biggest supporter, never wavering in her belief in me, looked into my eyes with so much love reflecting in her gaze that it sent my body recoiling back into itself with shame. I looked down at my hands resting in my lap. After what I had almost cost her, I didn’t deserve that love.

“I’m sorry, Ata.” It was barely a whisper.

“Look at me,” she commanded. “I do not blame you for what happened last night.” I couldn’t bring my eyes to meet hers. “Look at me,” she demanded again, grabbing my chin and forcing it toward her eyes. “If I do not blame you, then you do not get to sit here and wallow in self-pity.” She dropped her hand to my shoulder as her eyes softened.

“We all made the choice to be here, Cin. Any one of us could have stayed behind if that was what we wanted. You do not get to take the weight of our choices and carry them as your own.” She sighed, brushing my hair over my shoulder. “Whatever is happening is so much bigger than you or us. We cannot afford to have broken spirits, not now.” Her voice was so steady, so confident. She had always been so sure of who she was. “Do you understand me?” I bobbed my head in response.

“We are in this together. We have always been in this together.” Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she pulled me into one last hug, wrapping her arms tight around my neck, before pulling us to our feet. “Now, go get dressed. We need to eat and figure out what the hell is happening.”

She was right, I was starving, and now that the morning was in full swing, I needed coffee. I nodded, knowing better than to argue with her and took a step toward my room, then stopped, turning back to her.

“I love you, Ata.”

“I love you back.”