Page 102 of A Cursed Son

His lips tighten, I suppose from noticing my face. He shrugs.“Or maybe not.”

“I’m tired, Marlak.” Tired of everything. Tired of my strange magic, tired of hiding, tired of lying to myself.

“You barely got started.” He steps closer to me. “Can I hold you, or are you going to use your air magic to bring you back to the other island?”

“You want me to beg for your help?”

“Not beg. I was just checking if you wanted to do it on your own.”

“I can’t.”

He tilts his head and smiles. “Perhaps you could.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. In fact, I don’t want to talk—at all. I need some time to rest.”

I should use this moment to try to gain his trust, but I’m still upset, and I don’t want to ruin everything. I’m uncertain if he hasn’t realized what I am, and wondering if he’s playing some cruel game pretending he’s oblivious. I need silence, need to get my thoughts together. And I need to stop wanting to strangle him.

I say, “But please, oh magnanimous husband, please use your mighty magic and float me back to the tiny island where we’re supposed to spend the night.”

He nods, then whispers, “I’m sorry.” His arms surround me and we float back to our island.

I wonder why he can’t just float me the way he did when I was attacking him, but I don’t want to ask, and it’s true that it looks harder and less precise.

His embrace is pleasant, though. Too pleasant.

I wish I could just lean on his chest and feel his hand caressing my hair. The thought unsettles me. I’m horrified by my feelings, afraid of how vulnerable they make me.

And now that he knows my secrets, I’m more vulnerable than ever.

18

Alone in the tent, I lie awake, stirring through restless thoughts. I still can’t believe what happened. Can’t believe I used magic. Can’t believe I tasted blood.

I often wondered if the story about blood was a fanciful lie, a way to claim darksouls were monstrous.

And yet it’s true.

Not only that, a part of me knew exactly how to access this magic. Perhaps it was indeed a part that had been repressed, a part that slipped through in my outburst. My mask fell. And Marlak delighted in seeing the creature beneath it.

Marlak. His magic is incredibly dangerous, if he can rip secrets from people like that. It’s what he tried to do in that cave all those days ago. But he doesn’t even care about the human kingdoms. I can’t imagine what he was trying to find in my mind. Whatever it was, he didn’t try again. But why? Or did he find it?

Does he know I’m Tiurian? Is that what he wanted to find out? Is he pretending he didn’t notice it? I’ll need to watch him and figure it out—once my mind isn’t twirling and I know my mask will stay put. If I can quiet down the thrumming of my heart, perhaps I’ll hear the secrets lingering between words.

A new sound then catches my attention, a soft tap on the canvas covering me. For a moment I wonder if a bird landed there, or if it’s a branch that the wind carried, but it continues. Tap, tap, tap, like… rain?

I push the flaps aside and see Marlak still dry, sitting on a log, holding his sleeping bag, while drops of water fall all around him. I bet he has some kind of air shield or else he’s manipulating the water not to reach him. Eventually he’ll have to sleep, though, and this is the kind of quiet rain that will last the night.

Lying on a wet sleeping bag might be a suitable punishment for invading my mind, but he also made sure this tent didn’t get damaged, knowing it was for me. I can’t let his thoughtful action soften my heart, but I can act like a decent person.

“Husband,” I say. My throat is hoarse.

He turns to me, still managing to look sorry. I have to remember that he wasn’t sorry when he was seeping through my memories or goading me into using magic.

“Yes?”

I despise what I’m about to say. “Come inside.”

He blinks fast, his eyes widening, but then he shakes his head. “Not a wise idea.”