Page 34 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

-From the personal notes of Ivain Castaro, Marquess of Tempris

Today, I did the thing I swore I’d never do again.

After three years of letters and calls and thinly veiled bribes, I finally agreed to take on Adriana Emrys’ youngest son as my live-in student.

I’m not sure how she knew that Sarina and I would be touring the Ghislain countryside, but she did, cornering us in a tavern in Eroun with her son in tow—a shy, quiet boy named Skylen.

Sarina fell in love immediately, and even I must admit he was not what I was expecting.

Barely nine years old, but he’s powerful, smart, though it was plain to see that his tutors have been mishandling his education.

Mages with that much aether—it’s always a balancing act of keeping them challenged without needlessly endangering their lives, and in the right hands, this boy could be molded into something special.

After Breena, I never thought I would take on another student.

I regret that we never settled our differences before her death, but perhaps my sister is right.

Teaching has been one of the greatest joys of my life, and maybe it’s time to stop punishing myself for that failure and start looking to the future.

Skye turned in a circle, taking in the scattering of fire lamps, the sprawling marble dance hall, the soaring towers of champagne flutes brimming with sparkling wine.

“I’m… home?” he murmured, his voice lost amid the crowd of Highborn fey that surrounded him on all sides.

Or rather… he was back in Ghislain, at his family’s mountain estate overlooking the Bay of Margo. Not home. No, this place hadn’t been home for a long time—not since he’d been sent to live and train with Ivain nearly sixteen years ago.

He searched his memory. The last thing he could remember was being in Della.

It was cold and wet; the temperature had dropped that day, and even the wards on Ivain’s tent hadn’t been able to completely ward off the chill of night.

He had been huddled inside his bedroll, shivering so hard his teeth chattered, and—

“I’m dreaming,” he concluded, eyeing the draped garlands and evergreen wreaths above the doors and archways, the tiny sprigs of holly that decorated every dress and lapel, even his.

He had to be. That was the only reasonable explanation for why he would suddenly find himself back in Ghislain for his family’s Yulemas celebration.

Skye began weaving through the crowd, flurries of magical snow dusting his shoulders and catching in his hair.

The faces blurred together, and the walls seemed to shimmer as the dream warped around the outer edges of the room, almost like a bubble.

There was music in the background, a combination of strings and flutes, but every time he tried to focus, attempting to pick out a tune or melody, the song would shift into something else equally unrecognizable.

“Excuse me,” he said, sidestepping a woman in a vibrant blue dress that nearly twirled into him as she exited the dancefloor.

He blinked, and her dress was suddenly crimson. The woman gave him a smile, her eyes hungry as she surveyed him from head to foot, taking in his black dress suit and white tie.

A heartbeat later, her dress had turned from red to lavender.

“Excuse me,” he said again, ignoring the pout that pulled at the corners of her gold-painted lips.

Skye felt a tug, gentle but insistent. Almost like there was a string attached to one of his ribs. It tugged again, and he froze, craning his neck to see over the milling crowd of nobles as he tried to pinpoint its source.

There.

A pair of wide, double doors marked the center of the back wall, leading to what memory told him was a balcony .

Another tug and Skye began to move. He carefully pushed his way through the crowd, but time seemed to stretch in this strange half-world. No matter how far or how long he walked, the entrance to the balcony was always just a few steps out of reach.

That thread continued to pull him forward, and he imagined himself grabbing it, twisting it between his fingers and wrenching whatever it was on the other side towards him.

The dream abruptly shifted. One step—he was still inside the ballroom, muttering apologies as he was being pushed and jostled. The next, he found himself standing outside on a balcony that jutted into the open air, blissfully alone.

Skye stood there for a moment, relishing the cool night air and taking in his surroundings.

In the distance, the sea glittered in the moonlight, smooth as glass, and the lights of the surrounding city were so bright, he could barely make out the stars that shivered high overhead in the dry winter night.

Despite the chill, flowers curled along the stone railing, filling the air with the scent of jasmine.

There was a soft sigh from somewhere in the shadows, and—

Skye jolted.

A woman sat on the far side of the balcony, perched on the wide stone railing despite the sheer drop that opened up below.

Her dress was a soft pink, pinned and tucked and draped so effortlessly, it seemed to have been sewn from a single length of silk.

Her shoulders and arms were bare, and the bodice molded to her body before seamlessly flowing into a voluminous mass of skirts and petticoats that fluttered in the breeze.

Wisps of pale blonde hair framed her face, and strands of jewels had been woven into the intricate braid that draped across her shoulder, each one glistening in the moonlight.

The look was elegant, if understated, especially compared to the elaborate styles that were currently in fashion.

She would’ve looked out of place compared to the ladies inside, but this woman—even without the trappings of court, the rich fabrics and extravagant hairstyles; even though her ears were round instead of arched, her eyes lacking that inherent glow of magic that marked his species; even though she was human, mortal—she was more beautiful than any fey woman could ever aspire to be.

“Taly,” he breathed, smiling so wide it hurt. Even knowing this wasn’t real, he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the sight of her.

He rushed forward, needing to have her in his arms—desperate to feel her warmth, her heartbeat, and praying that the dream would allow such small mercies.

But since this was Taly, and since she never did what he expected—even in his dreams—that’s not what happened.

Slowly, her head turned, and those gray eyes went comically wide as her face contorted into what could only be described as horror.

“No.” She began to shake her head, pressing her back against the wall of the estate. The sheer panic in her voice had Skye stumbling to a stop. “No, no, no.”

“Tink.” Skye reached out a hand, but she continued to inch away. “It’s alright. It’s just—”

“You can’t be here.” She tried to untuck her feet from beneath the puff of her skirts, but the fabric twisted between her legs, and she began to fall backward.

Skye cursed, surging forward and just managing to loop an arm around her waist before she tipped over the edge of the railing.

She struggled against him, slapping her hands against his face and chest, all the while shrieking at him to let me go, let me go, let me go!

“Shards, woman…” Grunting, he finally managed to pull her back onto the patio, but it was like trying to hold onto a thrashing hellcat. “Would you please just calm—”

Her skirts pooled beneath his feet, and he tripped, sending them tumbling to the ground in a heap. Their heads smacked together, and they both let out twin groans of pain.

“No, no, no, no, no…” she was still moaning, hands covering her face. “I thought this was just going to be a normal dream. Why do you always have to ruin everything?”

“It’s good to see you too,” Skye grumbled, rubbing his head as he rolled off her. This dream was quickly turning into a nightmare. He’d tripped, made a fool of himself in front of the woman he loved, and nearly given them both concussions.

Maybe he was the one that needed to take a dive off the balcony.

“So, what’s it going to be tonight?” Taly pushed herself up on her elbows, glaring at him.

“Are you going to fall into a canyon? Maybe get eaten by shades? That happens a lot, you know. Just last night, I had to watch you drunkenly stumble into the old airtram station outside the Swap. I thought we were good when you didn’t immediately fall down the stairs and break your neck, but then when you saw that there were no guards, guess what your dumb ass decided to do. ”

She was on her knees, leaning over him, and yes, this really was a nightmare because now she was berating him and not in the fun way that made her look like an angry kitten.

“You decided to investigate the tunnels—the ones that lead outside the city where there are shades —by your-Shards-damned-self!” She flicked his forehead.

“Alone.” Then his ear. “And unarmed.” A punch to his shoulder.

“And did I mention drunk?” She sighed, deflating slightly as she ran a finger across the satin lapel of his dress coat.

“Jerk. What kind of idiot bumbles into an abandoned airtram station that’s been left unguarded and unlocked during the middle of the apocalypse, and then decides to investigate it by himself? ”

“Taly, I—”

“You need to stop dying .” That caught him off guard.

As did the pleading look she gave him as she said, “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to watch you die?

You’re a shadow mage—you’re supposed to be indestructible, but every night…

” She lifted her hand as if to give him another solid punch on the shoulder, then let it drop.

“Why did you go in the tunnels, Em? There are so many terrible things in the tunnels.”