Page 76 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

-From the personal diary of Talya Caro

I’ve had the same dream for almost a week now, and even though it’s been months since I had a vision that made me feel like that first night, this one—this one I can’t seem to shake.

Not because of the dream itself—this isn’t the first time I’ve dreamed of Skye at the palace.

It’s more because of how rigid it feels.

I’ve never had a dream that felt quite like this.

Where no matter what I do, how many variables I change, it always ends the same.

It’s like I’m marching through a set of events that have already been decided—set into immovable stone and immune to alteration.

It haunts me now, even in my waking hours. I blink, and I see Skye lying in a pool of his own blood. I’ll turn a corner, and the air will suddenly reek of pain and death .

“See the timelines and choose your path.”

That’s what the Queen is always saying. If time is a tapestry, then I am the weaver. I control my dreams.

But what do I do when there are no more threads to cut? What do I do when Skye is already dead, and there’s blood on my hands?

For one moment—one single breathless moment—Skye allowed himself to doubt.

Going through that portal would be the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Crazier than believing in dreams. More reckless than learning a handful of illegal spells.

He had no idea where it went or if he’d even be able to get back. There were no assurances here. All he knew for certain was that Taly had gotten herself into some deep shit, and that for some reason, as always seemed to be the case, it was up to him to pull her out of it.

And Shards, how was that even fair? She had lied to him for months on end, threatening a bond, a trust , that had been cultivated and nurtured over a lifetime of friendship. She had fucked up, and yet he was the one risking his life to bring her home.

It wasn’t fair. None of it. And he would be insane to go through that portal. Completely and utterly mad.

But that thread was still tugging him forward. The evidence of a love so deeply ingrained into every living, breathing part of him that even his soul had started to reach out, desperate to keep her close.

He loved her. No matter what she had done or why.

Though when he did find her, he might just kill her himself. After the hell she’d put him through, he was certainly reserving the option.

His moment was up. And so, Skye took a deep breath, gave that thread a small tug in return, and then stepped through the portal.

Taly was dozing, drifting somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, when the door to her apartment creaked open. The clatter of dishes accompanied by the smell of food had her blinking, blearily staring around the room.

“Who’s there?” she mumbled, lifting her head off the desk. A scrap of paper stuck to her forehead, and she frowned as she peeled it away from her skin, squinting at the notes she’d scribbled the night before. She yawned and rubbed at the ink that was surely smeared across her forehead.

“It’s only me,” Leto replied, drifting into the small tower library, a silver serving tray as well as a flat, wooden box balanced in her ghostly hands.

Calcifer immediately rose from his “bed,” which instead of a palace now vaguely resembled a stately coin throne with a blue velvet pillow as the seat.

It had eventually just been easier to disassemble the entire structure than trying to adjust for his increasing size, repurposing the coins into something new.

His long gold-tipped tail swished back and forth as he went to inspect their visitor.

Taly rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “What time… Shit.” She looked to the window, noting the position of the sun. “Shit!”

Ever since she had beaten Azura’s game almost a week ago, the days had started to blur together.

Her lessons had stopped, and they no longer played tag.

The Queen no longer insisted that she attend tea or come down for dinner.

So, with nothing else to do—and not knowing just when Azura planned to test her or what that might entail—she had started studying.

Every hour of every day, learning every spell she could get her hands on.

“Ma’am,” Leto said as she zigzagged through the haphazard stacks of books and journals that littered the floor. Calcifer tried to nudge the box from her hands, and she raised it higher. “Could I perhaps—”

“No.” Taly began flipping through the book in front of her, trying to find her place. She vaguely remembered sitting back and watching the sun start to rise, which meant she had to have fallen asleep sometime just after dawn. “I know where everything is.”

Calcifer gave an annoyed yowl as he reared up, reaching for the box with two big black paws. That tail knocked over one of the stacks. Then another. A quick freezing spell saved the third.

“ Calcifer ,” Taly warned. She snapped her fingers, and he gave up the box, trotting ahead of Leto and over to where she sat at the desk.

His wings were gone today, and only that large, slightly gangly feline form remained.

“Veet.” That was Faera for sit, and he obeyed, plopping down beside her and patiently waiting for the cloud of golden aether that she manifested on the palm of her hand.

He breathed it in languidly, licking his lips.

It was hard to express just how glad she’d been to finally wean him off blood.

“Sorry.” Taly shot Leto an apologetic glance. “He’s been antsy lately. I need to take him for a run.”

Leto just nodded, finally giving up on trying to find her way through the stacks and instead floating over them. “Surely, I can return some of these to the main library. Juniper has been complaining about the books that have been going missing.”

Taly scowled. She hated that old fairy. Even if he was just an amorphous blob of blue light, she still got the sense that he was glaring at her every time she visited the main library.

“He would only let me check out two books at a time,” Taly said, finally finding her place.

“Obviously” —she gestured to the many, many, many books she had pilfered and brought back to her tower— “that wouldn’t do.

The Queen hasn’t told me anything about this final test, which means I need to study everything. ”

Without ceremony, Leto plucked the book from Taly’s hands and set the serving tray in front of her, not bothering to move aside her notebooks and journals.

“I’m not hungry,” Taly said, even as her stomach growled. She tried not to look too desperate as Leto pulled off the dish covers, revealing eggs and bacon and batter cakes as well as several thick slices of still-steaming bread that had already been slathered with butter and jam.

She reached for her book, but Leto held it just out of reach.

“You did not come down for dinner last night,” Leto pointed out. “And you skipped lunch as well.”

“I was studying.”

“You still need to eat.”

“Can I eat while I read?”

Reluctantly, Leto placed the book on the desk, only moving her hands away when Taly picked up a fork and began shoveling food into her mouth.

Leto peered over her shoulder. “I did not know you were studying Relin.”

Taly shrugged. “I thought it might help me with my Sight,” she said around a mouthful of food.

“Perhaps,” Leto conceded. “However, I find his work to be rather… unscientific. I would recommend Adrunn or even Ilu. Their studies on chronal field theory are far more in-depth.”

Taly paused, her fork hovering mid-air. “You know chronal field theory?”

Behind Leto’s blank expression, she could’ve sworn she saw a flicker of amusement. Taly still hadn’t told the fairy she knew what she was—what any of them were. And she didn’t plan to. The fairies were freer with their words when she acted dumb.

“Good afternoon!”

Taly groaned, reaching for her coffee as the door to the apartment opened and shut.

Azura was every inch the queen as she strutted into the library, dressed in a heavy white velvet gown that hugged her tightly at the waist before exploding into a voluminous mass of skirts.

She wore a matching robe edged with silver, with a high stiff collar and long stately sleeves that grazed the floor.

For the first time that Taly could remember, there was a crown nestled inside the coil of dark curls piled atop her head.

“You’re in a good mood,” Taly grumbled into her cup.

Azura practically floated over to the windows, beaming from ear to ear as she effortlessly maneuvered the maze of books.

Her skirts swished and sighed, swirling around her like a cloud.

“Well, it’s a beautiful day!” she exclaimed, waving a hand at the window.

“The sun is shining, the sky is blue, the gardens are in bloom—”

“It’s like that every day,” Taly pointed out. “It’s literally the same day. We’re in a loop.”

“True,” Azura conceded. “But that doesn’t mean that today isn’t special.”

Taly snorted. “Let me guess—Rhanna invented a new teacake.”

“No,” Azura chirped. “Although that would also be cause for celebration.”

Taly had to rein in the urge to roll her eyes. If she never saw another crumpet, it would be too soon.

“Today,” Azura went on, “is examination day.”

Taly choked on her coffee. “What?” she asked, wiping away the liquid that dribbled down her chin.

“Examination day, my dear!” Azura stooped, examining the piles of books, occasionally picking one up, nodding, and then setting it back on a different stack.

Taly made a note of each misplaced book, irritated that she would have to go through and reorganize later .

“You know,” Azura sighed, a dreamy look on her face, “I envy you sometimes. What I wouldn’t give to be a student again. To feel the rush of victory, the agony of defeat. Always walking that razor-thin edge between—”

“Stop.” Taly held up a finger, ignoring the Queen’s pout at being interrupted. Azura’s speeches could get lengthy, and it was best to stop them early. “Let’s go back to the part about the exam. That’s today?”