Page 85 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

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

Of all the villages hit by the Sanctorum’s raid, Vale suffered the greatest losses.

In Plum and Bago—the destruction was centralized, as though the Sanctorum came, realized there was nothing there for them, and then retreated.

In Vale, however, the damage was pervasive.

The village wasn’t just burned—it was razed, reduced to nothing but ash and cinders.

We’re still not sure what brought the Sanctorum to the island.

There are so many rumors circulating. Some are saying they were looking for time crystals while others claim there was a time mage hiding amongst the townspeople—a child.

I do not know if this is true, or if the Sanctorum was successful in their quest. I can only hope that they failed.

The death of a child would not validate the lives that have already been lost. It would only show how far we as a people have fallen.

The next few hours passed in a blur, and Skye might have thought he was hallucinating, that he might’ve actually lost his mind this time, were it not for the warm, steady weight of Taly’s hand in his.

They were both silent as she guided them back to the palace, and by the time they came to a large, well-stocked infirmary, he was thoroughly lost.

She helped him with his armor, lifting his breastplate and ruined shirt over his head when the pain got so bad that he couldn’t raise his arms. And while she worked, tutting and fussing and rubbing all manner of foul-smelling herbs and salves on his wounds until the bleeding finally stopped, he tried not to stare.

As a human, she had been beautiful.

As Highborn fey, even covered in blood and sweat…

she was hypnotic. Still Taly, but with the tang of aether clinging to her scent now instead of mortal iron, a more graceful arch to her ears.

And those gray eyes that seemed to almost glow, as if her body couldn’t quite contain the sheer force of her magic…

He had definitely been staring.

While they were in the infirmary, she told him a little about this place—where they were and “yes, that really was fairy fire. ”

She also explained that during the four weeks she’d been gone, a year had passed for her. One full year in which she had lived and trained with a woman the world thought dead, honing the skills that had allowed her to hunt and kill a man thousands of years her elder.

He had been expecting the time differential, of course. She had said as much during those few shared dreams. But hearing her say it and seeing it firsthand, feeling every single one of those long months open up like a gulf between them and suddenly realizing the reality of it…

The girl who couldn’t kill a rabbit.

He wondered if there was anything left of that girl now. Wondered how it was possible to grieve her loss but also still find excitement in the obvious skill she had displayed—the raw intelligence and power he knew she had always possessed but now wielded with such vicious efficiency.

He wondered if there was still a place for him beside this new, fascinating creature—or if she had already left him behind. Again.

A year …

He probably should’ve said something. She had looked at him like she was expecting him to say something.

But when the words wouldn’t come, she had just sighed and taken him by the hand, not letting go until they came to a large tower apartment.

That’s where she had left him, mumbling something about going downstairs to clean up as she shoved him into the washroom and closed the door.

There were clothes waiting for him when he emerged: a shirt and trousers, both finely made and sewn from light summer fabrics.

How they got there—or how they fit so well—he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

This day had already been strange and exhausting, and it wasn’t over yet.

He would focus on the less important questions later.

Skye completed another circuit of the apartment.

It had been almost an hour since Taly had left him here, and in that time, he’d explored every room and peeked into every drawer.

With nothing else to do, and already hurting now that the pain tonic was starting to wear off, he padded into the bedroom on bare feet and eased himself front-first onto the mountain of blankets and pillows piled on the bed.

They still hadn’t talked—not about the things that mattered. There were questions he needed to ask, things she needed to explain. It wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, but… it had to happen.

He needed her to look at him and tell him why she hadn’t trusted him to help her.

Why she had lied. Why she had run away.

Why she had used the things she knew about him, those vulnerabilities it had taken a lifetime to learn, to hurt him again, and again, and again.

Skye winced as he turned over onto his back, holding a hand to his ribs.

At least, there was the bond. It was proof that she cared.

Proof that even though his faith had been shaken, that trust wasn’t gone.

At this point, the link between them was still incomplete.

It wouldn’t take much to sever it, so the fact that it was still intact, even after the lies, the separation—that gave him hope.

Enough to quiet the doubts still churning his thoughts as he hoisted himself to his feet and began another circle of the apartment.

Taly stood in front of the mirror, willing her heart to stop beating so damned fast.

She had scrubbed the blood off her skin and washed her hair.

She’d even rummaged through the small case of cosmetics that had been left in the washroom, using just the barest trace of rouge on her cheeks and lining her eyes with kohl.

She couldn’t use a glamour—that would be too obvious, especially to a shadow mage.

But if applied with a delicate hand, human cosmetics looked natural enough to escape immediate scrutiny.

She fiddled with her hair. Pinched her cheeks. Despite the rouge, she still looked pale. And her hands—her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Just breathe,” she whispered, wiping her palms on the front of her dress and watching with detached fascination as the girl in the mirror parroted the movement.

Her reflection still caught her off-guard sometimes, and considering that she’d had nearly a year to adjust her own perception, she couldn’t begin to imagine what Skye must be thinking right now.

How different she must seem from the person he’d last seen. How different and how strange…

It was probably why she’d caught him staring.

With a growl, Taly grabbed a nearby cloth and scrubbed her face before yanking out the twist of hair she’d tried to pile on her head in that way that Leto made look so effortless. She began weaving it into a long, ropelike braid .

She’d spent a year wondering what it would be like to finally see Skye again, trying to picture his reaction, what he would say when he finally saw the eyes and the ears and the perfect features.

She’d planned out what she’d wear (something pretty but familiar), how she’d arrange her hair (braided to hide her ears).

She’d imagined the things she might say to help him see beyond the stain of her magic, to still see her beneath this new, strange thing she had become.

But that chance was gone now. The first time he’d seen her since she’d left him in Ebondrift and she’d been covered in blood, still out of her mind with rage and grief.

She’d been every horrible thing the Sanctorum had ever claimed time mages to be, and no amount of rouge or lipstick was going to erase that image.

Taking a breath, she placed both hands on the ceramic vanity, still warm from the steam of the bath.

Their friendship would survive. She knew that. They had spent their entire lives fighting and making up, and they would find a way to move past this. Maybe not the same as they were before, but they would have a tomorrow.

The only problem was… she wasn’t sure that was enough anymore.

She wasn’t sure it had ever been enough.

She wanted more than his friendship, but what if she had missed that chance?

She had lied to him. Hurt him. And even though her intentions had been noble, that didn’t change what she was.

It didn’t change the fact that loving her meant that his life on Tempris would be over.

That he would never be able to go back home .

Taly wiped at the tears welling in her eyes, then tugged her dress into place. It was simple and light, the skirt falling in gauzy layers to just below her knees. She had found it waiting for her in her closet, along with a note from Leto that simply read: I’m sorry.

“Too late to change now,” she murmured, throwing her braid over her shoulder.

She had thought the dress looked pretty at first, but now she just felt silly.

She should’ve worn something more familiar, like trousers and boots, maybe her favorite tunic.

She’d hardly ever worn dresses as a human.

Skye was probably going to think she looked strange.

“Just go,” she breathed . Before he figured out that she was avoiding him and the conversation she knew was coming. She couldn’t run anymore. Didn’t want to.

So, Taly closed her eyes and counted to three.

And when she opened them, she gathered what was left of her pride and swagger, wrapping them around her like a shield.

By the time she reached for the doorknob, ready to face the man that now had the power to break her heart beyond recognition, her hands had finally stopped shaking.

“What are you doing in there? ”

Skye looked up from the dresser drawer to find Taly leaning against the closet doorframe, arms crossed.