Page 18

Chapter 18

Sorin

"Y ou cannot seriously be considering this,” Cyrus said, disbelief clear in his tone. The dining room had cleared out, leaving only Sorin and his Second. Scarlett had gone to see the children, Cassius going with her, and everyone else had left to go on various watches.

He’d stayed behind to hash things out with his Second. There was too much going on to have this kind of tension among his family, but he knew Cyrus’s objections to this were based on more than the danger it put their queen in.

Because Scarlett had been right. Again.

And now he was wondering how he’d missed it when it was so obvious.

“You can certainly try to change her mind,” Sorin said, settling back into his chair as he relaxed with just Cyrus in here.

Cyrus scoffed at him. “Do not act as if you are ?ne with Scarlett proposing this.”

“You have to admit, it is a rather brilliant plan.”

“Of course it’s fucking brilliant,” Cyrus muttered.

“And since they are the only ones who can Travel, they sort of need to be involved in the thick of it.”

Cyrus’s jaw was so taut, Sorin was surprised he didn’t crack a molar. “So she and Cassius have already been doing this?”

Sorin nodded. “Scarlett and I chose a random location on a map. She and Cassius have been Traveling back and forth from there all night. They made random stops along the way to make it appear as if they were looking for a speci?c location.”

“Alaric isn’t stupid. He’s going to realize they are stationary here in this spot the longest.”

“That’s not the point. We want them to think we are looking into something. If Cassius repeatedly returns to the same spot, they are going to think we have discovered something.”

“Why not just go to Rydeon and remove the Mark? Get it over with?”

“Cyrus,” Sorin sighed, rubbing his brow with his thumb and fore?nger. “I know you understand the strategy behind this. You know we need the exact center of a continent, which is where this Eternal Necropolis sits. None of us know Pyry well enough to even begin to calculate where the exact center of that continent would be located. Why don’t we discuss what is really going on here?”

“There is nothing to discuss.”

“No? We are not going to discuss the increased drinking at the Black Halls? The nights in Solembra? Why you are volunteering for the night watches all the time these days?”

“Your point?”

“My point is that you get this way when you are trying to ?ght things you cannot.”

“So philosophical lately,” Cyrus sneered. “Is this some ‘I-almost-died’ thing?”

“You also become a bigger asshole when you cannot keep thoughts of Merrik and Thia shoved down instead of actually dealing with them.”

“You have no idea what it is like, Sorin,” Cyrus snarled, his finger jabbing in his direction. “None. Do not sit and preach at me about dealing with repressed emotions when you spiraled into some sort of pity-party when Eliné left, threw your relationship with Talwyn out the fucking window, and then wallowed in the mortal lands for three godsdamned years, even if it was Talwyn who sent you there. Forgive me if I do not find any wisdom you have to impart on the subject particularly enlightening.”

Sorin kept his features impassive, despite the mental ?inch at his words. Cyrus had said much worse things to him in the years immediately after Thia’s death. This mood of his was nothing compared to some of the pits his friend had spiraled into then, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about this one. It’d been a good decade since he had gone this far. He was good at hiding it. Good at laughing and joking, using it to hide his grief. He seemed to believe the rest of them were convinced he’d moved on, but they knew better. Just like they all knew Eliza was taking the loss of Nakoa far harder than she’d ever let on. Just like they all knew the reasons Rayner had become so attached to Tula.

“Perhaps I do not understand, but Scarlett has some idea—”

“I knew this was really about that. I will apologize to her,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Do not do me any favors, Cyrus,” Sorin said coldly. “She will recognize it for the false apology it is anyway.”

Cyrus didn’t respond, turning to look out the windows running along the back of the room, and Sorin waited. This was going to go one of two ways. He either wanted to have a conversation about this, or—

“Scarlett doesn’t have any idea either,” Cyrus snapped. “She was able to save you. The Fates decided she was worthy of keeping her twin ?ame. I had to give mine back. The two people I have loved so deeply... They found me unworthy of both of them. So no, Sorin, she does not have any idea. None of you do.”

And what was he supposed to say to that? It wouldn’t matter right now anyway. Sorin had learned over the decades that sometimes Cyrus just needed to put voice to all his thoughts. He didn’t want a response from anyone. He just needed them said aloud. Eventually they would speak of the things he was saying now, but it would not be today. If Sorin tried, Cyrus would shut down completely.

His friend fell silent, eyes going back to the window, to the sea. Several minutes passed before he said, “I’m so tired of the godsdamned sea.”

“I know, Cyrus.”

He sighed heavily. “I will talk to Scarlett.”

“I know.”

“You should have hit me for speaking to her like that. I know you wanted to.”

“I am sure she will.”

Cyrus huffed a laugh, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “Tell me about your power. What’s going on with it?”

Now it was Sorin’s turn to clench his jaw. “We do not know. I still cannot create ?re portals, and it feels... less than.”

“Explain.”

Sorin tapped a ?nger on the table, irritation and anxiety warring in his gut. “My magic reserves are full, but they feel... smaller.”

Cyrus was silent for a moment, letting that sink in, before he said, “You are not as powerful.”

Sorin nodded once. “And every time I tap into them, it is as though they shrink even more when I have given them time to re?ll.”

“She knows?”

“Scarlett knows.”

“And you still let her draw from you?”

His ?nger tapped a little faster. “I am her Source, Cyrus. If only one of us can be at full strength, it needs to be her. But we have an agreement about the issue.”

Cyrus leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table. “What are you going to do?”

He pushed out a long breath. “I do not know. I was going to see Beatrix after this. See if she has any insight.”

Cyrus was already getting to his feet. “I’ll go with you.”

Sorin nodded, standing, and they fell into step beside each other as they went in search of the Witch that was bound to the Fire Court.

“Has Scarlett spoken to the Night Lord or whatever he calls himself? Maybe he would know something,” Cyrus said as they moved across the deck.

Sorin shook his head. “As far as I know, she hasn’t seen or spoken to him since he told her how to bring me back. And she cannot simply summon him. Especially not here, without a mirror gate nearby.”

They fell into silence, and Sorin’s mind circled around the Lord of Night as it always did whenever he was mentioned these days. He felt like there was something he should know, some memory he should be recalling. It seemed to hover just out of reach, and it irritated him to no end. It felt important, like something that could change everything if he could ?gure out what exactly it was.

“So where exactly have Cass and Scarlett been Traveling to during the night?”

“To the northern continent.”

“To Pyry?”

Sorin nodded in con?rmation of the icy tundra of a continent north of their own. “We ?gured as far away from where we are actu ally headed would likely be best. Scarlett and Cass think Alaric will become paranoid that they ?gured something important out and split his focus.”

“Yeah, that could work,” Cyrus said, scratching at his jaw. “From what she’s told me, Alaric is going to become obsessed with trying to get one up on her again.”

Sorin nodded again. “He already is. Mikale came to her the other night.”

“In a dream?”

“No,” Sorin bit out. “In the godsdamn mirror. Like he did that night of the Samhain ball. And as concerning as that is, more so isthe fact that she called for me down the bond, and I did not hearher.”

“What?” Cyrus asked, gripping his arm and pulling him to a stop.

He had told no one else about this part. Eliza, Rayner, and Briar knew there was something going on with his power, but no one else knew about the bond. He had failed her yet again when he couldn’t hear her calling for him. What if Mikale hadn’t only been in the mirror? What if Alaric had come for her again himself? He hadn’t heard her down the bond, but he also hadn’t felt her. There had been no jolt of panic or rush of fury. He had walked Eliza to her room before checking in on Rayner one ?nal time, taking care of his Court like he always had, while his wife was facing down one of her demons alone.

“That shouldn’t be possible,” Cyrus was saying. “Your bond is Anointed. Nothing supersedes that anymore. There is nothing more powerful. Nothing should be able to come between you two.”

“Nothing should be able to, and yet something has,” Sorin said, hands sliding into his pockets, staring out at the waves over Cyrus’s shoulder. “Something has felt... off since I woke up at the chateau. My power is different. The bond... Well, I attributed the bond being different to the fact that we had completed the Trials, and that we’d had it Anointed. I did not realize it was different in an unfavorable way until that moment.” He finally met Cyrus’s gaze. “I do not know what to do, Cyrus.”

Cyrus reached out, squeezing his shoulder. “We’re going to ?gure it out. We’re going to ?gure everything out. What is that shit Scarlett is always saying? Hope even when it’s pointless?”

“Hope is for the dreamers, you asshole,” Sorin said, shoving his hand off his shoulder.

Cyrus grinned that sarcastic smirk at him. “Same thing. Let’s go ?nd Beatrix.”

They checked her cabin ?rst and then the back of the ship before systematically working their way towards the front.

“What about Rayner?” Cyrus asked as they descended a set of stairs to the main deck.

“What can we do? There is no way to make his reserves ?ll faster unless... ” Sorin sighed. “Unless Scarlett is right about him too.”

“Go on.”

“You heard her after the battle. She thinks Rayner has Avonleyan blood, and it all godsdamn ?ts,” Sorin sighed.

“Rayner is not Avonleyan. We would have known.”

“Like we knew Scarlett was Avonleyan?” Sorin countered. “Like we knew Luan had Avonleyan blood?”

“Shit,” Cyrus muttered. “She’s going to ask him about his past, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think he’ll tell her?”

“I honestly do not know. Rayner did not share his past with me until I was the sitting royal, and I had known him for decades before that.”

“Let’s be honest. We all waited for Rayner to tell us instead of asking ourselves. None of us were brave enough to do that,” Cyrus said.

“But it all ?ts, right?” Sorin said. “He does not have any actual ?re gifts. He can Travel in a way. His gifts take weeks to re?ll when he uses their full extent like he did to save Tula.”

“You’re thinking if he drank Fae blood, it would feed his gifts? Like I do for Cassius?”

“It all ?ts, Cyrus,” Sorin replied, ?nally spotting Beatrix at the bow of the ship. “And to be honest, a part of me wonders if he has known all along.”

Cyrus seemed to stumble a step at his words. “No. I don’t believe that. I know he’s more aloof than the rest of us, but he wouldn’t keep something that big from us. He wouldn’t.” Cyrus was shaking his head, echoing the ?erce denial ringing in his tone.

But Sorin wasn’t so sure. And it had gotten him thinking: all the Courts had rare gifts that seemed to favor a single bloodline. The Fire Court had Ash Riders. The Wind Court had Wind Walkers. The Water Court had Water Gazers. The Earth Court had Artists.

But what if those gifts were rare because they weren’t Fae gifts at all?

He’d posed the question to Scarlett last night, and all she’d done was give him a small smile that told him she’d been toying with those thoughts for a while now.

Beatrix was standing at the front of the ship, bundled in a cloak. She looked tiny and frail. The Witch was anything but. Sorin had known the female his entire life, and she still looked the same. Witches didn’t have a Staying like the Fae did where they stopped aging, but their aging process slowed way down when they reached maturity. Scarlett had once asked him how old Beatrix was, and Sorin truly did not know.

She turned to face them, sensing their approach. She smiled that smile that reminded him of elderly mortals, her violet eyes warm and bright— a stark contrast to most Witches. He had always imagined Beatrix encompassed what having a mortal grandmother was like.

“Prince,” Beatrix said, reaching for his hands.

Sorin grasped her ?ngers in his palms, bending and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “How are you, Beatrix?”

“Fine, ?ne,” she said, reaching up to pat his cheek. “But you, on the other... Something troubles you, young king.”

“I do have a question or two for you,” Sorin said, straightening.

She nodded knowingly, turning to Cyrus. “And you, Fire Second? Your soul is troubled as well.”

Cyrus stepped forward, bending to press a kiss to her cheek as well. “I will be ?ne, as always, Beatrix,” he replied with a grin.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, eyes narrowing on him. “Someday you will have to face the past you run from.”

“I don’t run from the past. I just choose not to dwell on it,” Cyrus countered, his tone light.

“And yet it dwells in you.”

The smile faded a touch, a muscle feathering along his jaw, and Sorin cleared his throat. “I need to ask you if you know anything about my magic, Beatrix.” Her attention turned back to him, her hands folding inside her cloak. “Since I... came back, my magic has... lessened.”

“How so?” she asked, a grey curl falling forward from beneath the hood of her cloak.

“Whenever I use it, it is as though my power well shrinks a little each time.”

“We sail for a land full of secrets, and yet you ask me a question of something you already know the answer to,” Beatrix replied.

Sorin’s brow furrowed. “Why do you assume I know the answer? I assure you, if I did, I would already be working to rectify it.”

“Do you remember when you were a youngling? You would come to my alchemy room and sit for hours, watching me mix potions and tonics, and asking me all manner of questions,” she said, her gaze going to the sea as she reminisced.

Sorin chuckled lightly. “I do, Beatrix. You were incredibly patient with my incessant curiosity.”

“You were never a bother. I enjoyed the company,” the Witch said, a fond smile appearing on her lips. “But sometimes you would ask questions far beyond your years. Do you remember what my reply would be to those questions?”

He could see it, sitting in Beatrix’s alchemy room. It had always been warm and cozy, several ?res always going. A perk of living in the Fire Court, he supposed. He would perch on a stool, his legs swinging while he watched her toss various ingredients into cauldrons and bottle up tonics for the Court. His father would often send him there when he was getting too unruly. Beatrix would just click her tongue when he would show up at her door, dragging his feet and pouting. She’d set him to work chopping herbs, and soon enough he’d be chattering away while she worked.

One particular afternoon he had been sent there for being obnoxious during his lessons. He’d been seven and had been summoned in from outside to complete his afternoon studies. His private teachers had tried for nearly an hour to get him to cooperate before they summoned his father— who had given him the option of spending the rest of the day helping Beatrix or helping in the kitchens. It had been an easy choice. The one and only time he’d chosen the kitchens, the lead cook had made him scrub every pot and pan twice to make sure they were properly cleaned. He hadn’t been served dinner until all the dishes were cleaned. It had been well into the night.

“Why does it matter, Lady Beatrix?” he whined, plucking petals from the ?owers she’d pushed his way when he’d clamored up onto the stool at her work surface.

“That is a big question for a small child,” the Healer replied, tapping his hand in disapproval when he ripped a petal off too harshly and it tore down the middle.

“I am not a small child,” he cried indignantly, slowing down to make sure he did not ruin any more of the pink petals.

“Only a small child would throw a ?t over learning. A small child does not yet understand what a gift knowledge is,” she said, nodding when he looked up, seeking approval at his newly plucked petals.

“It is not a gift. It is boring,” he groused, picking up the next ?ower.

“Knowledge is not boring, young prince. Knowledge can make you powerful.”

He scoffed. “How can knowledge be powerful?”

She plucked the ?ower he was working on from his hand. Pulling a small knife from a basket on the table, she cut a thin line down the entire length of the stem, liquid seeping out and dripping onto the table. “Do you know how to collect the life-force of this plant? How to bottle it? Use it to heal or to harm?”

Sorin shook his head, watching it drip to the table.

“I have that knowledge,” she continued. “Does that not make me powerful? That I can use that knowledge to heal someone or end their life?”

“That is not power, Lady Beatrix,” Sorin argued, watching as she used a dropper to move the liquid into a vial. “My father’s ?re is power.”

“And when I tell you I have knowledge that could keep your father from his ?ames? Then who is more powerful?”

Sorin frowned. “You cannot do that.”

“I will not do that,” she corrected. “That does not mean I cannot.”

“Then why don’t you?” he asked, leaning forward to peer into the cauldron that was bubbling on the table.

“For many reasons, but for the sake of simplicity, your father has knowledge that would protect him.”

“So he is more powerful,” Sorin said, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand.

“Power is a matter of perspective, young prince. Much like history and truth,” she answered. “Power is knowing when and how to wield the knowledge you possess, but if you do not have any knowledge, then you are powerless. Do you wish to be a powerless prince when you rule this Court?”

“No,” Sorin answered quickly.

“Then what must you do?” she pressed, tapping the table by the ?owers.

Sorin sat back, picking up a yellow blossom and resuming plucking the petals. He sighed. “Pay attention during my studies.”

“Yes... and no.”

“No?” he asked, ?ngers stilling on a petal.

“You should always seek any knowledge you can, Sorin, but there is not enough time to learn everything there is to know, even in our seemingly extensive years. So you also seek out those who possess knowledge you do not,” she answered, handing him small satchels to ?ll with the petals.

“That is why you work for my father?”

“We work together,” Beatrix countered. “We share our knowledge with each other.”

“But you answer to my father.”

“Do I?” When Sorin’s brow bunched in confusion at her response, she said, “Knowledge can be power, and it can also be a curse. Sometimes, young prince, it is best not to seek knowledge until you are ready to bear the weight of what you will learn.”

As he got older, he’d ?nd himself making sure he set aside time in his week to spend time in her alchemy room with her. Hisstudies got more intense, his magic training became rigorous. His physical training became grueling, and he began traveling more. But when he would return home, he would ?nd himself wandering into her alchemy room. She was always there, as if she were waiting for him, even in the middle of the night. It wasn’t until he was in his adolescent years that he realized she had more gifts of the sight than she let on.

So when he would ask questions and she would answer with ‘Are you ready to bear the weight of the answer to that?’ he knew she had likely glimpsed some future event. Sometimes he would press for the answer, and other times, he would leave it for another day.

But today, as he saw that question in her violet eyes, Sorin said, “I will bear the weight of the knowledge, Beatrix.”

“You are sure?” When he nodded, she looked back out to the unending sea. “Did you think there would not be a cost to your returning from the After?”

“What?”

“The High Witch said something about this,” Cyrus said, stepping to his side. “But she did not know what the cost would be.”

Beatrix gestured in Sorin’s direction. “I believe you have just learned the cost.”

“My magic? But why that?”

And the words she said next made Sorin still.

“Fire and shadows. Light and dark. Beginnings and endings.”

He wasn’t breathing as he stared at the Healer, the Witch he had known his entire life, echoing words spoken by a being imprisoned beneath the Black Halls.

“In all things there must be balance, Prince,” she continued, meeting his gaze once more. “It is the way of the gods.”

He nearly choked on the air he managed to suck down. “Are you saying my power wells will continue to shrink? That my payment for life is the death of my gifts?”

Her violet eyes were ?lled with a sad truth. “Sometimes knowledge is a curse, young prince.”

“Did you... Did you know this would happen?” Sorin asked, stepping towards her. “Did you see it?”

“No,” she said softly. “But a great power crossed the Veil. It would stand to reason that the cost to bring you back would be just as great.”

“There has to be a way to ?x this,” Cyrus insisted. “There is always a work-around.”

“Was this not to rectify the prince’s crossing of the Veil?” Beatrix countered. “Perhaps it would be prudent to evaluate the cost to ?x this, Fire Second. At what point will the cost become too great?”

“I need my magic, Beatrix,” Sorin said, his mind whirling with thoughts and possibilities. “I am Scarlett’s Source. If I do not have any magic to fuel hers... ”

“My teachings from when you were younger have not changed, Sorin.

Magic is always a give and take, to maintain the balance.”

He knew that. He understood that, but this was not an option. To win this war, Scarlett needed to be at full-strength, which meant he needed his full well of gifts. There had to be something he could do, and he knew of at least one being who would likely hold answers for him.

As if she could see the path his thoughts were beginning to go down, Beatrix spoke again. “I would think long and hard before seeking help beneath the Black Halls again, Sorin. She will not lose twice.”

“I worked around her price once before, I can do it again,” Sorin argued, thinking of his previous exchange with the Sorceress. She had demanded the blood of a god in exchange for helping him get to Scarlett in the mortal lands.

Something ?ashed in Beatrix’s eyes. “You did not outsmart her, Fire Prince,” she chastised. “She underestimated your twin ?ame. She will not make that mistake twice.”

Sorin stared back at her. All the Witches had some shade of those violet eyes, but Beatrix’s eyes had always been more vibrant. More of her dark grey hair slipped free of the cloak and ?uttered around her face, and he suddenly felt as if he were staring through bars, looking into eyes just as vibrant but cold instead of warm.

“Beatrix... How do you know the Sorceress?”

She reached for his hand, squeezing his ?ngers gently. “You have enough to bear the weight of this day, Prince. Save this knowledge for another time.”