Page 64 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

Aiden’s eyes cut to the woman, then back to Skye. “Don’t fall on your sword on my account,” he said, resting his head on the back of the booth. “She’s pretty. You should offer to take her home.”

Skye gave him a tight smile. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” Then, more gently: “You lost a friend. ”

“I’ve haven’t lost anything,” Skye insisted. “She’s coming back.”

“Skye—”

“ Don’t say it.”

Aiden sighed, and they both lapsed back into silence. But the door had already been opened, and doubt began to creep back in.

What if Ivain and Sarina were right? What if he really was just out of his mind with grief?

He kept trying to find meaning in his dreams—some sign that Taly was still alive.

But what if the dreams, the tunnels, the beasts they’d found, the diaries, her …

What if it was all just a series of coincidences?

An illusion, a fantasy. His mind’s way of trying to spare him from a kind of pain that he might not be able to find his way back from.

“Can I tell you something?” Skye asked. The buzz of alcohol was making his head swim, and the words were out before he’d even thought to ask the question.

“Sure,” Aiden said, interest piqued.

Skye picked at a crack in the table. He probably shouldn’t do this. He knew he shouldn’t do this, but… he just needed to tell one person. A friend. Someone he could trust, who could tell him once and for all that he wasn’t crazy.

He had almost told Kato earlier, but something had stopped him. Even if his brother’s intentions had been noble, the trust between them was still too tenuous and new.

Aiden though… If there was anyone that could understand what he was about to do and why he had to do it, it would be Aiden.

Skye cleared his throat. “I-I’ve been having dreams. ”

Aiden arched a brow, sitting up slightly as he took in Skye’s slightly hunched shoulders, the uncertainty in his eyes. “What kind of dreams?” he pressed.

And before he could think better of it, Skye began telling Aiden about the dreams. He told him about Taly, about the way she had warned him that the airtram station would be left unguarded.

Everything—he told him about every dream, every detail he could recall.

He even told him about the woman in the tunnels, and those damn blue lights, and the diaries he had found beneath the floor of her old room.

When he was done, Aiden simply stared at him, eyes wide. And that was fair. No cause for alarm. It was a lot to take in, after all.

“So…” Aiden finally said. He pushed his glass away, rubbing at the bridge of his nose like he could wipe away the haze of alcohol that still clouded his eyes. “Are you telling me you think your dreams are real?”

Skye nodded.

“And that Taly’s real?”

Another nod.

“And you think that she… tells you to do things?”

When Skye gave another resigned nod, Aiden looked away, then back. His mouth open and shut, not unlike a fish.

“Grief… is a very strange thing, Skye.” Every word was so careful—and slightly slurred. “And sometimes, it can play tricks, make us believe that—”

“She’s real,” Skye interjected. “I can feel it—in here.” He placed a hand to his chest, and as if in response, that thread gave a tiny tug. It kept getting stronger, that tug. And that had to be a sign. Something to tell him that he was moving in the right direction.

“The only thing I can’t figure out is how she’s doing it,” Skye went on, more to himself than the man across the table. “Maybe it has something to do with those spells my brother discovered or… something else.”

“Spells?”

Skye slid down in the booth and let his head loll back over the back of the seat.

Damn it. He shouldn’t have said that. The dreams were one thing, but this…

Ivain had decided that very few people needed to know about the spells and the lies he had told to conceal them.

There were still too many unanswered questions, too many rumors of traitors lurking in the shadows.

But by the Shards, by the Magnus, by every supernatural deity that any member of any species had ever thought to entreat—the floodgates had been opened, and now the words seemed to spill out of him.

Skye began telling Aiden about the spells Kato had found inscribed on Taly’s arm—a complex web of shadow magic concealed by a glamour so sophisticated, it was nearly imperceptible.

His brother had taken it upon himself to interrogate her, forcing her to run, and although Skye had initially believed that she was being controlled by the individual responsible for the shades—that she might actually be the traitor, albeit unwillingly—he wasn’t so sure about that now.

She had found the relay, after all. She had sent out a warning message. But she hadn’t come back .

“She tried to tell me something before she left,” Skye said as his story began to wind down.

Aiden still looked bewildered, but it was such a relief to get the words out, he barely noticed.

“She tried to tell me why she left last year. I thought she was just nervous at the time, but now, I think she was scared of those spells, maybe of who put them there. I think she knew about them, and it terrified her.”

Aiden had gone quiet, his eyes focused on some far-off sight. “Holy shit.” The words were soft enough that Skye had to channel a bit more aether to untangle the sound of his voice from the low din of the tavern that still filtered through the air ward. “Aimee was right.”

Skye sat up a little straighter. “About what?”

Aiden’s eyes snapped to Skye’s, wide and just a little frightened. “Nothing.” He went to take another sip of ale, then thought better of it. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Heartrate and breathing are both elevated,” Skye murmured, tilting his head as he listened. He watched the healer tug at his ear. “Nervous tic.” Aiden immediately dropped his hand, looking off to the side. “Won’t make eye contact. You’re lying,” he concluded.

“It’s nothing.”

“Another lie.”

Aiden tried to shove himself to his feet, but Skye grabbed the man by the arm and threw him back down.

“Tell me what you know,” Skye demanded. He let his aether spark in warning, licking at his skin like violet flames. The fey were territorial by nature, and right now, this man knew something about the woman he loved. Something he wasn’t saying.

That was a very dangerous line to toe.

Aiden held up his hands. “You need to calm down.”

Skye gave him a calculated look. “If you won’t talk, I suppose I could ask Aimee. Do you think she would tell me?” He smiled. “I think she would tell me.”

That got Aiden’s hackles raised. “Leave my sister out of this,” he nearly growled.

“What. Do. You. Know.”

Aiden hung his head, and Skye could still hear the frantic thump of the earth mage’s heart pounding like a drum between them.

“I first noticed something was off when I was treating Taly for the harpy venom.” The words came out in a rush, and Aiden’s eyes darted about the room, then to the wall of air magic that still surrounded their booth.

“It didn’t make sense for a human to have that kind of reaction, and no matter what I did, she just kept getting worse.

So… I did something I probably shouldn’t have done.

” He swallowed hard. “I gave her faeflower.”

The glass in Skye’s hand began to crack, and he forced himself to let go, sliding it across the table.

“I know,” Aiden said, taking in Skye’s thunderous expression.

“I already know what you’re going to say.

Faeflower is one of the most potent poisons known to mortals, and believe me, I agonized over that decision.

I treated her with every mortal remedy I’d ever learned; I pored over every book on human health and anatomy I could find.

But the symptoms, the progression of the disease—it was harpy venom poisoning.

Textbook harpy venom poisoning—from the fever to the pain, the confusion…

Everything, right down to the blue rash on the bottom of her tongue.

“She was dying , Skye. She was dying, and since I couldn’t stand by and do nothing, I made the decision to give her the draught, figuring that, at worst, I would at least be able to ease the pain of her death.”

Aiden ran a hand through his hair. “It only took an hour before she started to improve. So, I kept giving it to her, increasing the doses gradually, and she just kept getting better and better and… it wasn’t long before she was back on her feet, going on like nothing had ever happened.”

Skye forced himself to take a breath. Then another. “But that would mean…” He stopped. “No,” he said with a shake of his head. “You must have made a mistake.”

Aiden huffed out a joyless laugh. “Believe me, I was confused too. Because if it looks human, it is human—that’s always been the rule.” A pause. “But then Aimee—I think she made a connection. I think that Taly might not have been human after all. It would explain the magic.”

“Magic?” Skye asked, a note of hysteria creeping into his voice. The world was crumbling right out from underneath him, and he couldn’t find his footing. “Taly doesn’t have magic. I’ve known her my entire life, and she’s never had magic.”

“Not your entire life,” Aiden countered hesitantly.

“As I recall, she was just some unknown child Ivain took in after the Sanctorum destroyed an entire village. She had no family, no past, no memories. Under those circumstances, I’d say it’s very possible there might be things about this girl you never knew. Things she never knew.”