Page 45 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

-An excerpt from Of Tyranny and Time Mages

We already bow down to our noble houses.

We give our allegiance to the Shards. But there is a great distinction that no natural or religious reason can account for, and that is the distinction between fey and time.

We all have our allotments of aether, the good or bad fortune we are born with, but why do we also bow down to the time mages?

Why are they exalted above all others, and why do we continue to give them our allegiance when they have yet to earn it?

Only the time mages are able to see the Weave, and yet they expect us to believe in their good intentions?

They shape time, determine the fate of nations, but they go unchecked.

They ask for trust, but do nothing to earn it.

They have proven themselves to be tricksters and cheats, and I will no longer bend the knee to a false Queen, whose only power derives from tradition and fear.

Taly took her time in the bath. Even with the gift of immortal healing, there were still bruises on her arms, her knees, up and down the length of her spine, and even a black eye that still felt swollen and hot to the touch.

After so many weeks of playing “tag” day after day, every part of her ached, and she could’ve spent all night soaking in the scalding heat. Maybe part of the next morning as well.

The Queen’s magic was good for some injuries—like burns and broken bones—but in order to reverse time on a wound and make it so that it had never been, the pain had to be re-experienced.

Considering the beatings she took most days, Taly had come to prefer traditional healing methods and very, very hot baths.

The tower washroom was massive, with gold-veined marble and gilded fixtures.

The back wall had been left open to the elements, and wind and ash pelted at a veil of protective magic that muffled the sounds of the explosions in the distance.

Fire crystals heated the air, the floors, and kept the water from going cold.

The ceiling was glamoured, and the nighttime sky stretched out above her, slowly cycling through the heavens.

She wasn’t sure which sky she was looking at tonight—none of the constellations looked familiar. But judging from the twin red moons that were drifting across the vast, starry expanse, she figured it must be some forgotten gate world .

The view was lovely. Undeniably so. But also, off in a way. Too flat to be anything more than an illusion.

There was a knock at the door, but Taly ignored it, sliding down even further in the bath.

A tiny horse made entirely of water galloped across the surface, climbing the raised dome of her knee like it would a mountain ridge.

It was a simple enchantment, one intended to lure reluctant children into the bath, but even as an adult, she had never tired of playing with water clones.

The miniature horse reared back, and Taly tapped a finger to its nose, watching as it morphed into a sparrow that began to flutter about the room.

Skye was always complaining about how long she took in the bath, and yet he never failed to bring her back a new water clone when he visited the mainland.

Dragons, and lions, and bears. Even a giant sea serpent.

She hadn’t really liked that last one, and when she’d told him so, he’d had the brilliant idea to install the clone inside the pond that bordered the main highway.

It had given everyone that passed by a good scare, rising out of the water when anyone got too close to the fence.

They had even figured out a way to make it roar a few years later—this horrible, screeching sound so grating it frightened away the local wildlife.

With a sigh, Taly sunk down even further into the fragrant water.

As usual, Skye was never far from her thoughts.

She wondered what he was doing, if he was safe.

Every time she looked in a mirror or felt the tips of her ears, she imagined what he might say when she finally found her way home and he saw that she was… changed .

Would he still find her beautiful? Would he still want her the same way he had in Ebondrift?

After all, she was no longer human. She was like him now.

Fey. Highborn. A time mage, but maybe he wouldn’t mind that so much.

And if he did… well, she couldn’t really blame him.

He would have to give up everything to stand beside her.

His family, his home, any hope for a normal life free from the Sanctorum.

Everything was a lot to ask of a person.

A vision of a Yulemas ball flashed through her mind’s eye.

Most of her dreams were filled with blood and death, but that one… that one she had liked.

So much that she often found herself revisiting the dream, fantasizing about what might’ve happened if she had let the vision play out rather than trying to dive off the side of the balcony.

He would’ve slowly closed the doors behind him, glancing at the footman that stood just off to the side in a way that said there would be a generous tip coming his way so long as they remained undisturbed.

And then, he would’ve slowly sauntered towards her, hands in his pockets, looking utterly breathtaking in his black dress suit and white tie.

She would’ve stared at him the entire time, trying not to fidget with the bracelets at her wrists, but he would have known exactly the effect he was having on her.

He was a shadow mage, after all. He would’ve sensed the frantic beat of her heart and known that the flush on her cheeks wasn’t just from the cold.

But she wouldn’t care. Because his eyes would reflect the same hunger that had haunted her ever since he’d pressed her up against that library bookshelf and kissed her.

Closing her eyes, Taly sighed as she let her fingers drag along the inside of her thigh.

And then, when he got close enough, she would’ve reached for him. Just a hand, outstretched and trembling. Because even though they had kissed and teased and flirted… this line they were about to cross—that wasn’t something that could be undone.

A friend and a lover.

Her first.

Her only.

Taly’s stomach clenched as her fingers continued their exploration. How many times had she imagined this scenario? How many different ways? One kiss and that arrogant bastard had managed to turn her into a raging mess of hormones and lust and… somehow, she didn’t really mind.

He would’ve drawn her into the dance, gently placing his lips to her neck, then her jaw, her mouth.

Slow and soft at first but gaining in intensity.

Until her lips felt bruised. Until she was aching with a need that was all for him.

He would press her against the wall, his hand slipping beneath her skirts—

Taly finally let a finger dip between her thighs, wishing it was Skye’s hand that was touching her, teasing her.

And then—

There was another knock at the door, and Taly started, snatching her hand away. She blinked a few times as the fantasy began to clear and —

Damn, Taly thought, kicking at the edge of the tub. A heady ache still pounded between her thighs, but it would have to wait until later, when she was alone.

Except…

She was never really alone now, was she? Leto was always within earshot, and the fairies, the Queen, Calcifer…

Shards, had she really been here so long now that she had started to miss the solitude of those first few weeks?

Growling softly, Taly fiddled with the controls on the bath until the water turned icy.

By the time Taly dragged herself from the bath, a jeweled blue gown was already laid out on the couch in her dressing room. She could only muster a half-hearted protest as Leto began helping her with the various layers, thankful that the fabric fit her loosely and didn’t require a corset.

Instead of heels, the fairy produced a soft pair of satin slippers, the color a perfect match to the red velvet ribbons woven through her hair.

It seemed that since the Queen had begun enforcing daily games of fairy tag, Leto had taken pity on her, dressing her for dinner in clothing that wouldn’t restrict her movement or aggravate any slow-to-heal injuries.

Thank the Shards for small mercies. And Leto .

“You did well today,” Leto said as she finished pinning the folds of the skirt.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Taly mumbled, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

She looked pale, and several blood vessels had burst in her right eye.

Coupled with the bruises on her face, the effect was decidedly gruesome.

“In fact, Azura said that the only thing I’m getting better at is not bleeding. ”

Leto straightened, eyeing Taly from head to toe and tugging at the fabric. “Her Majesty jests, I’m sure.”

“I’m not.”

Leto hesitated for a moment, considering her words. “You do still struggle with your Sight, but that’s not unusual for young mages. It is a difficult ability to master. It took Her Majesty nearly three centuries to be considered truly proficient.”

“Thank you, Leto.” Taly gave a wan smile before turning to leave the dressing room. Down the hall and into her parlor—her body barked in agony, protesting every step.

“The Queen,” Leto said, following her, “has requested that dinner be served in her private dining room this evening.”

“That’s nice for her.” Taly grabbed a book from a nearby table and carefully eased herself down into an overstuffed chair next to the window.

Calcifer jumped up beside her. He had grown considerably, enough that it was getting hard to remember him in his little teacup bed.

He was as large as a housecat now, if still a bit gaunt and spindly, and two tufts of vibrant gold fur had sprouted around his still too-large ears and on the tip of his tail.

A match to the golden rings that were beginning to develop around his icy blue eyes.

“You can tell the Queen that I’m not going. ”