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Only to fail.

So, she moved back to the crystals.

Then tried to cast the spell herself.

Back and forth until she was gasping for breath and sweat coated her body, her very blood aching as her aether began to drain.

It was hard work, and it certainly didn’t feel like instinct. But she kept at it, coming to the solarium every evening with a coin purse and her bag of crystals.

Overhead, the sky was dark, and ash pelted the glass, almost like snow. The air was humid but cool, scented heavily with the smell of mist and freshly packed earth. Taly was sitting at her usual spot at the little round worktable beneath the center of the largest of three glass domes when the leaves began to rustle.

She dismissed it at first, moving back to the task at hand. It wasn’t even 21 bells yet, and she was already exhausted.

Taly flipped the coin and watched it hover.

One second. Two seconds. It was motionless, stopped mid-spin.

The crystal felt warm in her hand as she reached out with her magic, tracing the now familiar shape of the enchantment.

After a moment, she released the spell and let the coin drop.

Setting the crystal aside, Taly teased out the tiniest thread of aether, letting it curl through her fingers, pushing back when it began to rise up. Precision was also important, the Queen had told her. Too much aether could ruin a spell just as easily as too little.

So, she forced her mind to clear, forced down that restless impatience, and flicked the coin into the air. Half a heartbeat later, threads spindled from her fingers, forming a web that crisscrossedthe space in front of her and caught the coin mid-spin—

Only to let it fall through.

It hit the table with a spiraling clatter, and Taly slammed a hand down on top of it. It was progress. Not instinct, but… progress. Very slow, very frustrating,it-was-starting-to-feel-like-she-might-just-be-a-really-shitty-time-mageprogress.

Something was rustling again. Turning around in her chair, Taly peered into the darkness. The only light came from rows of water crystals set into the glass overhead, and they cast a soft glow. The solarium was at least three times as long as it was wide, and leaves were shaking on the far side.

She rose from her seat at the table and followed the noise. It was probably just one of the fairies. They were always hanging around, chirping and whispering, sometimes playing pranks.

The leaves began to shake more violently as Taly crept closer. A few berries dropped to the ground. There was a low hiss, and then two beady blue eyes peered at her from between the branches.

The creature was small, not much larger than a walnut, and vaguely feline in appearance. It had large bat-like ears that were at least twice the size of its head, a long whip-like tail that sliced through the air, and a thin layer of black fuzz coating the entirety of its body. When it opened its mouth, growling and revealing a set of fangs that were quite remarkable given its size…

Taly melted.

It. Was. Adorable.

And when it squeaked… Oh Shards. Her insides turned to jelly.

It was even cute as it snapped at her, snarling with all its tiny might—though it lost a bit of its charm when it launched itself out of the bush, lunging straight at her face.

Taly yelped, narrowly ducking out the way. She groped for the little beast as it dropped to the floor, but it was across the solarium before she had time to blink.

“Shit,” she muttered. It was small, but fast—unbelievably strong for its size, darting from the floor to the table to the branches and leaving a truly impressive trail of devastation in its wake. Ceramic pots shattered, and bags of dirt toppled over. The Queen’s berries got trampled as Taly reached for it and missed.

“How in the nine hells?!” she barked, barely managing to catch a trellis before it toppled over. The creature was no more than a black streak, ricocheting across the room like a bullet.

Glass cracked, and vines groaned overhead. It was heading for the door. The door that led outside. The same one that she’d stupidly left open because she liked to watch the way the ash piled up against the barrier surrounding the palace.

Another trellis snapped and nearly fell on top of her.

“Stop!” she pleaded with the creature. It hissed back at her as it leapt from branch to branch. “You can’t go outside!” If it didn’t get killed by the blasts, it might get swept away when the day reset. She wasn’t sure if a living thing could come back from that.

The little beast bounced as it hit the floor, its claws scraping against the bare stone as it skidded and weaved its way forward. The way was clear. There was nothing stopping it now, and panicslammed into her—panic for this tiny terrified creature that had no way of knowing the danger that awaited it just outside that set of doors.