was sloppy and a bit crazed, but it brought the ghost of a grin to his lips. He swung again, and again, until his perfectly coifed hair turned disheveled and a bead of sweat trickled down his throat. Cassi watched, feeling every motion as though it were her own, pulse leaping with every whack of wood on beans. She fingered the dagger at her hip, aware of the secrets lingering in its sharp edges, and silently whispered one more.
Not today.
5
Lyana
"I don't understand."
Lyana groaned and dropped her hands, staring at the four dishes set in a line on the table before her—one for fire, one for earth, one for air, and one for water. Colors danced across her vision, painting the world in rainbow hues she could see but not touch. The magic had seemed so easy in the sacred nest, with the power simmering at her fingertips, but now it felt like trying to capture a ray of sunlight in her palm.
Malek's gaze burned as it burrowed into her face, demanding something she didn’t know how to give. They sat facing one another in her bedroom, no sound between them aside from the groaning of wood and gentle crackle of the fire burning in the first bowl. She didn’t want to meet his eyes only to find disappointment swirling within them.
"You're afraid."
She flinched. "I am not."
"You are." He frowned as a sigh slipped through his lips. Why did it seem like when he looked at her, he looked through her, into the very depths of her soul? "You don't want to be, but you are."
Am I?
Lyana stilled her wringing hands. She had never been afraid of her magic, but the power churning beneath her skin didn’t feel like hers, not anymore. Before it had been gentle and benign, a force she could smother with ease and call forth without worry. Healing was a tender sort of magic, just her and the person she was trying to fix, two souls locked together in an intimate embrace.
This new magic was something else entirely.
A few days had passed, but when she closed her eyes, those last few minutes in the sacred nest came flooding back as clear as if she were living them again. The ground shaking. The ravens screeching. The power pouring from her body, endless and immense, too much for any one person to manage. At the time, it had felt as if the world threatened to cave in around her.
But then she remembered Malek, his warm palms cupping her face as his thumbs grazed her skin in a soothing, meditative rhythm. Listen to my voice, he'd said. Calm down. Someday, you'll be able to control it.
Would she?
"You're afraid of it," Malek said, honest but not unkind. "And as long as you are, you'll never be able to control it." Leaning back into his chair, he lifted his hand and looked at his fingers. Golden sparks danced across the tips, mighty yet contained, as lethal as any blade yet as docile as a dove. They faded just as quickly as they came. "Magic can be fickle. There's evidence it's hereditary, and yet it might show up in someone like you whose bloodline hasn't seen a mage in a thousand years, if ever. It chooses when it wants to emerge, be that the day of your birth, split across an age, or never at all. It's unpredictable, and that can make it scary, but you don't need to be afraid. I was born with my full power, so I've never known anything else. But your experience is different. You need to stop thinking of your magic for what it was and embrace what it's now become. With practice, it will be easier."
Lyana stifled a groan. These were the sorts of lessons she loathed, all mental and full of minutiae, no burning muscles or racing hearts. Just a chair, a table, and her.
If only Cassi could see me now… A grin pulled at her lip as she imagined what her best friend might say. How horrible—you have to stay inside with a handsome king and learn how to use your immensely powerful, world-saving magic. I feel so bad.
Pretend Cassi was right.
Whether she believed in this prophecy or not, she needed to learn how to control this magic. If she didn’t, she'd never be able to go home again. Right now, that was far more of a concern than a string of pretty words. Her parents would soon start to worry. Luka, she was