Page 67 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

And that’s when he saw it. A shimmer of aether covering her body like a veil.

Skye reached for her again, but it was like trying to catch a shadow. Her body began to fade—flesh and blood turning to smoke and mist. The color leached from her cheeks; her eyes drooped shut. It was as though something vital were being drained away.

“Stabilize her!” Ivain’s hands glowed with shadow magic, and tendrils of aether snaked through the air, trying to grab at the fading image. But she was just that. An image. A facsimile. Not quite real, and yet— “It has to be you, boy!”

Skye pulled at his own magic, letting it fill the air around him with a violet glow. If he searched for it, he could still feel the tug, tug, tugging of that thread. Weak but—

Not knowing what else to do, he grasped at the rapidly fraying edges, wrapping his own aether around it as he began weaving the strands back together. Stronger. Tighter. Adding bits of himself to fill in the gaps.

The image began to resolve itself. Slowly. The next time he reached for her, Skye managed to grip her shoulders. She was like smoke in his hands, and he gave her a shake, nearly sobbing in relief when she gasped awake.

Her eyes found his and—

Skye blinked. Her eyes… weren’t the right color. They were too bright, too… fey . And now that he was looking more closely—her cheeks were too angular, the arch of her brow too high. Every feature had been sharpened and refined until there was nothing human left.

But then again—she wasn’t human. She had never been human. That’s what Aiden had said.

Sarina’s gasp from beside him confirmed that he wasn’t the only one that had noticed the change.

“Taly?” Skye tried to control the tremble in his hands as he gave her another gentle shake. “Taly, where are you?”

She reached up to grasp at his wrist, and Skye couldn’t help but shiver at the buzz of aether that swept across his skin. She was still staring at him when the first trail of blood rolled down her cheek.

“What’s happening to her?” Sarina snapped as the blood began to leak from the girl’s eyes like crimson tears.

The image began to stutter.

“Hold on to her!” Ivain clapped a hand to his shoulder, and Skye felt a wave of aether being forcibly injected into his veins. It was like pure adrenaline, and he grabbed onto it, pushing it into the spell.

Taly flashed in and out of focus—once, twice, three times—before she finally stabilized. There was more blood on her face now, trailing from her eyes, her nose, even her ears. She touched a finger to her cheek, smearing the perfect lines of crimson that marked her skin.

“C’mon,” Skye whispered, holding tight to that thread. “Stay with me. Just a little longer. Where are you? Are you still on Tempris? Are you at the palace?”

“Oh, my little one,” Sarina sobbed. She tried to wipe at the blood on Taly’s face, but it was like trying to touch a ghost. “What have they done to you?”

Taly was still staring at the blood dripping down her fingers like it was a puzzle she couldn’t figure out how to solve. Skye gently wrapped a hand around her wrist, and her eyes finally snapped to his.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Her voice was distorted and garbled, as though she had already stepped one foot out of this world.

“Where are you?” Skye asked again. “Please. I know you’re hurt; I know you’re tired. But I need you to tell me where you are. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you.”

“I found the relay,” she said, her brows nudging together in confusion. “I talked to Ivain.”

“Taly, I know, but—”

The thread was starting to pull taut.

“She’s fading again.”

“He needs more aether.”

“Move.”

“Hold her.”

The voices were swirling around him, and he vaguely felt Kato’s hand on his shoulder, followed by another surge of aether. The power was almost too much for him now—a flaming maelstrom of energy that skittered across every cell, threatening to burn him up from the inside out.

But Skye tuned out the noise, pushed away the pain. “Taly, please,” he said when her attention began to flit around the room. He grabbed her chin, forcing her eyes back to his.

That invisible string was pulling tighter and tighter. He was losing his grip, and she was starting to fade. “Please, Tink.” He couldn’t hold on. She was going to slip away no matter what he did. “Come back to me. Just stay alive.”

And then… Taly smiled. It was weak and edged with pain, but so, so beautiful.

“I’m glad I got to see you one last time, Em,” she said, and the words sliced right through him.

Skye began to shake his head as the first tear rolled down his cheek. She was telling him goodbye. Again.

He opened his mouth to speak, but her eyes had already broken away from his, taking in Ivain first, then Sarina, Aiden, even Kato. “All of you,” she whispered.

And then he blinked, and she was gone.

Silence settled over the room.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Skye had to force himself to breathe, in and then out. He didn’t bother asking how, or why, or when. With time mages, when became a very important question to ask.

But he didn’t care about any of that. Those were questions he could answer later. All that mattered right now was that he had been right. The dreams were real. Taly was real. He wasn’t crazy.

And Shards, that felt good. So, so good.

Slowly, Skye rose to his feet. “Now, do you believe me?” His voice shook, and his eyes were damp—but he didn’t care. “She’s out there. She’s been out there this entire time.”

Ivain and Sarina still kneeled on either side of him.

“Was that…?” Sarina rose, turning to her brother.

“Give me a moment,” Ivain murmured, standing to his full height. “Just let me think.”

“How?” Sarina went on. “How could she possibly—”

“I don’t know,” Ivain murmured. “But did you see—”

“Yes.”

“And—”

“I know.”

“And what about—”

Enough of this, Skye thought . He was just wasting time now.

Skye turned for the door, only to find Kato blocking his way.

“Move,” Skye said, an edge of warning in his voice.

But Kato didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch.

“Skylen,” he said carefully, like he was trying to pacify some sort of wild animal.

“Let’s just take a moment. It’s late, and there’s very little that we can do tonight.

I promised you allies, remember? I’m not going to be able to hold to my promise if you don’t at least give me until morning.

That gives us plenty of time to talk. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to know just how your little human friend managed to ghost her way in here. ”

Skye’s jaw clenched, taking in his brother’s wary stance, the way he held his hands out in front of his body. Placating, but also… defensive .

They still think I’m crazy. After everything… they still thought—

“I believe you.” Ivain’s hand landed on his shoulder, and Skye couldn’t stop the near-sob of relief that shuddered out of him. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before, but I understand now. I know why you can’t let this go.”

“She’s alive,” Skye said feebly.

“I know.” Ivain began pulling him away from the door. “Has this happened before?”

Skye shook his head. “No.” His eyes drifted to the hand at his shoulder, still wary. Ivain abruptly let go. “I saw something in the tunnels, but not like this.”

“Would somebody please explain what just happened?” It was Aiden who finally voiced the question on everybody’s mind. He sagged against one of the columns, eyes still wide with shock. “What did we just see?”

Ivain gave a heavy sigh, shooting a careful glance at Sarina, who nodded. “That was a projection,” he said.

“I’ve never heard of that,” Kato said, his back to the door. He had armed the silencing wards, and they flickered behind him.

“It’s rare,” Ivain said. “And dangerous. The soul is not meant to exist outside the body, and can only be projected outside of the physical form if properly anchored. I only know of a handful of individuals capable of pulling it off, and most of them have already been soul bonded for centuries, if not longer.”

Skye swayed on his feet. What?

He must have asked the question aloud, because Ivain said again, “A soul bond. Not complete—not yet. That takes centuries. But the dreams, the projection… That was Taly.” Ivain’s voice cracked on her name, and he glanced at the spot where she had been only moments before.

“That was her anima—still tethered to her physical body, but also… to you. The anchor. Somehow, she pushed her soul outside of herself, and then you pulled her through. Pulled her down the bond forming between you.”

Skye staggered back a step, only to run into the couch. Sinking down, he was only half-aware that every eye in the room had settled firmly on him.

A soul bond—a bridge between two people that loved so deeply, trusted so completely, their very souls began to reach out, desperate to intertwine.

Marriages expired. Lovers separated. Even mates could fall out of love.

But soul bonds were permanent, lasting even beyond death.

Skye pressed a hand to his chest, feeling for the tug of that thread and smiling when it gave a tiny spark of recognition.

Taly . Not just a friend. Or a mate. If they continued down this road, accepted the bond and cultivated the love and trust that already existed between them—even calling her his wife would be an insult.

She would be his élan . His beloved. His partner and equal.

He probably should’ve been more surprised. A soul bond—that was big. But then again, this was Taly. The girl who had slipped into his heart so slowly and so quietly, he’d loved her without knowing. It made sense that she had stolen a piece of his soul too .

Skye blinked, and the voices around him snapped into focus.

“How is this possible?” Sarina had moved from her position by the fireplace and was now standing over him, a motherly hand on his shoulder.

Kato barked out a laugh, the back of his head hitting the door with a thud.

“Is anyone in this room really surprised by this news? Anyone at all? Granted, I only knew the little human for all of five minutes, but I can’t be the only one that wanted to hurl when they started up that tap-tappity thing. ”

“That is not helpful,” Ivain said, even if he quietly shuddered at the memory of their not-so-silent code.

“And beside the point,” Sarina added. “Regardless of the desire, mortals can’t form soul bonds. They can’t carve out a piece of themselves and give it to someone else. It would kill them.”

“But she’s not mortal,” Ivain countered. “Sarina, you saw—”

“I know.” She shook her head, raising a hand to her throat. “But how ? How can that be possible? She’s human. She’s always been human.”

“Not always.” Skye stared down at his hands.

The ones that had just been holding onto her.

“Taly had secrets. Good ones too. Whoever has her right now—they’re not going to kill her.

Not if they know what she is. They’re going to do something far, far worse.

To her and to us. Which is why I need to go. Right now.”

“You’re going to wait.” The look Ivain gave him was stern but kind, his own curiosity, anger, confusion all carefully restrained.

“I didn’t believe you then, but I do now, and I know why you have to do this.

An élan comes before self, before sanity and reason, and I won’t stop you.

But we need to figure out some answers first.

“Now then.” Ivain clasped his hands behind his back as he surveyed the room. “I get the feeling that everyone here has been working off an incomplete set of information. I think it’s time we fixed that.”

“Majesty?”

Azura looked up, a glass of red wine in one hand, a book in the other. It was late, far later than she would normally stay awake. But dreams had chased her from her sleep, and she’d just needed to be sure.

“And?” Azura asked as Leto drifted into the kitchens, her soft blue light bouncing off pots and pans and glass-lined cupboards.

“We are still on schedule,” Leto replied, her voice low and soothing. The woman had always been an unwavering force of calm, even in life. “They will be here within the week.”

Azura closed her book, sighing as that coil of dread that had been slowly tightening around her chest since the moment she awoke finally began to ease.

Thank goodness , she thought. Taly was a strange one—the timelines were always tangling around her, getting so snarled it was hard to make sense of anything.

It was absolutely infuriating. Made trying to divine the future with any sort of accuracy nearly impossible. If that girl knew just how many of my plans are starting to come together… or the consequences if they fail…

She wouldn’t still be complaining about those pistols or that damned dagger. A time mage couldn’t dream without the proper tethers. She should know that.

Azura let out another soft sigh as she rose from the table, plastering on a smile and pushing back the ever-present exhaustion. It would do little good to let the others see how this place was beginning to wear on her.

“What a relief,” she chirped, but from the way Leto tilted her head, she knew she’d used just a tad too much enthusiasm. “I just love it when a plan comes together, don’t you?”

“If I may, Majesty?” Leto’s light dimmed in that telltale way Azura had come to identify as worry.

“Yes, of course,” Azura said. “Speak freely.”

“This plan is quite dangerous,” Leto said without missing a beat.

“I’m aware.”

“For Lady Caro.”

“Yes.”

“And Lord Emrys.”

“I know.”

“And for all of us here.” Leto paused. “Including you. Are you sure this is going to play out the way you intend?”

Azura glanced down at the book on the table—Taly’s journal. She made it a habit to review the girl’s dreams. They were often bloody and full of terror, and it was getting harder and harder to dissuade her from seeing the truth in them. There were things she couldn’t know yet. For her own good.

“I’m not sure,” Azura said softly, letting her fingers graze the leather. “I’ve never coddled my students, but this…”

This would be one of the cruelest things she’d ever done.

Azura took a breath, steadying herself. “It’s the right decision,” she said, looking to Leto, her oldest and dearest friend. “Skylen must die. It’s the only way we’ll ever know if she’s ready.”