Kestrel offered Seraiah a hand to help her climb from the hole, which Seraiah gladly accepted. True to their word, the gnomes had shown them a way out of the mountain not far from where they had entered.
“Now where have those horses gotten off to?” Kestrel shaded her eyes against the sunlight coming through the trees.
“I don’t see them anywhere,” Seraiah said, turning in a circle. “They couldn’t have gotten too far. We weren’t even gone for a full day.”
Kestrel dropped her hand. “I think you underestimate them. I would not be surprised if they were halfway back to Nyrene by now.”
“I suppose we have no choice but to go on foot then.”
Kestrel had them collect their saddles from beneath the tree where they’d left them. “In case we find the horses along the way,” she said.
Then they set out for the Seelie Court. Seraiah had expected more of a protest from Kestrel at the proposed visit, but after the gnomes’ lack of information about Nyrene, even she knew they had little choice unless they intended to sneak into the city themselves.
They walked in silence for a good distance before Kestrel said, “What’s your real reason for wanting to pay a visit to the Summer King?”
Seraiah stopped, mouth falling open. “I—I don’t know what you mean,” she said, staring at Kestrel’s back. Her dark hair hung in a braid between her shoulder blades, swinging back and forth with her steps. “I want to help Sterling, of course. What other reason is there?”
Kestrel tossed a look over her shoulder. “You tell me.”
Seraiah swallowed and resumed walking, the saddle banging into her legs. Kestrel was offering her the perfect opportunity to tell her about the madness.
“I know you love your sister dearly, and you’re the most selfless human I know,” Kestrel said.
“I’m one of the only humans, you know.”
“That’s besides the point. As I was saying, you’re the most selfless human I know, but I don’t believe even you would be so willing to walk back into the fae court. And don’t tell me, you’re doing it for me either. What else are you not saying?”
If she didn’t tell Kestrel now, her friend may never forgive her. Seraiah took a deep breath and said, “I read something in a book.”
She explained everything she knew to Kestrel while she quietly listened.
When she was done, Kestrel said, “I don’t see why this requires a visit to the Summer King. He’s not the only one who knows things.”
“Then where else should I go?”
“I’m sure there are books on the subject in Nyrene, or perhaps another journal.”
Seraiah stared at her, not sure if she was serious. “But we can’t go to Nyrene,” she said slowly.
“Not now, maybe, but one day. Soon.”
“And if I can’t wait? If I need my visions to help Sterling? To find the missing people? I haven’t forgotten my father is still out there somewhere,” Seraiah said. “Am I supposed to risk the madness growing worse?”
“No, of course not. We can help Sterling and find the missing humans without it. You don’t need the visions. Give them up and live like everyone else does."
"You mean be like all the other humans? I would never be like you." Seraiah couldn't keep the bitterness from leaking into her words. If she was truthful, she envied her sister, Kai, and Kestrel. She wanted to be like them. She’d had a taste of the power magic could bring—of having something no one else did—and she wanted to keep it.
Kestrel’s forehead wrinkled. “Is that really so terrible when the alternative is losing your sense of reality? Say the Summer King does have information about this. Is it worth paying whatever price he asks?”
Seraiah stopped again, and Kestrel stopped too, turning to face her.
“If it were you, would you give up your fire?"
Kestrel was silent for a beat too long.
"That's what I thought. So don't ask me to do the same. I’ll pay whatever price is necessary. It is my choice to make and no one else’s.”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
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Alone in his cabin, Ren removed his gloves and studied his blackened hands. He flexed his fingers and watched the shadows ripple beneath his skin like a living thing. It had disconcerted him the first time he’d noticed their movement, but now it was just another part of him.
When his mentor was still alive, they’d worked together to figure out the origin of the shadows. Neither of them had met anyone with such an affliction, but there were accounts of it in books. While Ren’s shadows appeared on his hands and ran up his arms, the other accounts had described it blossoming across their chest or spreading over their shoulders.
The two most prominent theories were linked to magic use. One proposed it was a stain on the soul made manifest, while another suggested it was an entity made of magic itself. Ren hated the idea of this second theory, but he had to admit it held merit, considering stains didn’t generally move on their own.
Both theories had agreed certain acts of magic fed the shadows, causing them to spread or, in the case of the entity, to grow stronger. The more you performed this magic, the more the urge to continue doing so grew. They never said what happened when the shadows overtook you, but death was strongly implied.
Seraiah’s description of Sterling’s eyes had Ren thinking something like his shadows must be afflicting her, however some aspects didn’t line up.
Ren clenched his hands into fists, sending another ripple through the shadows. According to Seraiah, Sterling had never used magic before and had been unable to summon it. If the shadows resulted from a certain type of magic, she shouldn’t have any, and yet. . .
None of the books he’d read mentioned passing the shadows on to others, but as Ren had figured out himself, it was possible—at least with his fellow humans—and it gave him a connection to them. He’d only chosen to mark Seraiah because Sterling hadn’t been an option, but had someone else been able to accomplish it?
He needed to research more, and the books in the cabin wouldn’t be enough. He’d need access to the other texts in the mages’ library, which would mean seeking the mages themselves.
Ren stalked into his room and shifted through the papers strewn across his desk. The blank pages filled with writing the moment he touched them, but none of them were the map he was looking for. As he searched, he sorted the various pages into piles based on what the contents were. One for the mundane lists of supplies not written on spelled paper, another for the orders he had received from the head mage long before Sterling had entered his life, and a third for the various spells he had been studying before the elves had dragged them into this mess.
Finally, his fingers landed on the map. The images of mountains, forests, and cities filling in before his eyes.
He let go of the map, the images instantly disappearing, while he pulled out the desk chair. Moving the map back in front of him, he wiped a hand over its surface as though clearing the frost from a window, and the world reappeared again. He was careful to keep one hand on the corner of the page as he scanned the map for the Cave of Faces.
The former mages' headquarters was on the bottom left-hand side. He traced his finger along the curve of a line used to represent sand dunes. The few known oases were marked as small palm trees. Ren tapped his finger against the one closest to the Cave of Faces, thinking.
Where would the rest of the mages flee after leaving the cave? The oases seemed too open—too exposed—and to his knowledge, there were no structures built at any of them.
His eyes traced the path he had followed, straight to the nearest portal into Himera. Even though he’d been alone for the journey, that didn't mean others couldn't have followed him. The thought was quickly discarded as he remembered how many of them had fled the country in the first place to avoid capture by the crown. Himera's king was ruthless when it came to tracking down magic users.
Ren suspected King Berenger feared the magic users wanted his throne. However, if he’d known anything about mages, he would know most of them could only perform basic spells. Those possessing any sort of abilities such as himself were few and far between and largely wanted to be left alone.
Ren marked the other portals into the human lands. These led to other countries that might be more tolerant of magic users, but they were farther from the Cave of Faces. If any of the mages had fled to these portals, he wasn't going to have the time to track them down.
Sterling couldn't wait that long.
The more time slipped by, the more likely it was that she would use her magic and—assuming his theory was correct and her shadows were like his—feed whatever was growing inside her.
Then there was the additional complication of whatever was in the potion he’d been ordered to give her. Ren had no idea how it was connected to the shadows, but he had a feeling it must be. If only he’d thought to keep a bit of the potion to study—to work out for himself where it had originated from and what it was intended to be used for. He wasn't well-versed in them, and it would have taken him ages to figure out, but at least it would have been another option.
Hell, knowing where the potion came from would have been enough. Then he could seek its maker. Ren doubted it was something Gavaran had brewed up by himself.
The image of a tree sprite denoting the Seelie Court caught his attention. He wondered how Seraiah’s negotiations were going with the gnomes, or if she’d taken his advice and sought the fae instead. He’d never had the pleasure of meeting one of the fae, but he’d heard the stories.
Oh, those stories.
Some of them might be false, but there was always a bit of truth in a good lie. The fae's way with words was something Ren had always admired. The things the Summer King could talk people into doing for a taste of his magic.
"A taste," Ren whispered to himself, his heart speeding up. The Summer King was known for giving rewards in the form of potions.
Could he have made a deal with Gavaran?
Ren had to find out. Forget going after the other mages. If the Summer King was indeed the one responsible for the potion and it was connected to Sterling’s shadows, he needed to go straight to the source. Perhaps there was some way to make a deal—to erase what had already been done. Ren lifted his hands from the map and watched the world disappear before his eyes, his mind racing ahead to how he would negotiate with the Summer King.