Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

14. Something Pink

Chapter 14

Something Pink

A fter a few days, I could sit up unassisted and tolerate the curtains being fully open. My head pounded and it hurt to blink, but I managed moments of consciousness. Most importantly, I was no longer overwhelmed by nausea or crippling pain—it wasn’t much, but it was a start.

The king was by my side nearly every waking hour. Depleted of strength and teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, our time together was mainly a silent affair.

Sitting up in bed, I was more alert than I had been since the incident. I offered the king a small smile of gratitude as I accepted a glass of water. I sipped it slowly until it was empty, then handed it back to him. Setting it aside, he let out a long, weary sigh. A heaviness hung between us, and I searched his features for its meaning. Undiluted lassitude stared back at me before he slumped forward, elbows on his thighs, and buried his face in his palms. The glittering golden strands of his hair that caught the light had seemingly lost their luster. It felt as if the world were holding her breath in that moment.

Recomposing himself, he took a deep breath and unfurled, focusing on me once more. His tousled locks did little to hide the moment he’d just taken, and his eyes lacked their fervent nature, like a snuffed flame. He looked so…vulnerable.

“Gods, you scared me, Nyleeria.” The words came out in a cracked whisper.

“It wasn’t that bad,” I hedged.

The king’s eyes darted between mine as if searching for something, then halted, going deep beneath the surface. “Not that bad?” His soft, pointed words were filled with incredulity. “Nyleeria, we lost you twice and had to put you into an induced coma while we sorted out what to do.” I blinked at him as the gravitas of the situation hit me, and a hollow fear slithered through my body.

“Oh,” I said flatly.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” I said again.

Leaning over and placing his hand on mine, he said, “I know.”

I swallowed. “Do you know why?”

“Why? No. What happened? I think so.” I could tell he grappled with not having all the answers.

“You think so?” I asked.

“When you”—he paused—“collapsed in the training room, I managed to catch you. As my fingers brushed against your back, a sharp shock wave of energy rippled through me. While helping me, Tarrin experienced a similar sensation. It was like you were scattering surplus energy. Anyone who came within a ten-pace radius of you found their hair standing on end or got shocked themselves. Despite that release, your heart couldn’t handle the excess buildup of energy, and it gave out.”

My free hand floated to my sternum. I winced, as the tender touch hurt too much to hold it there. Sitting up a little straighter, I asked, “What’s your theory?”

“When we wield magic through spellcraft, we’re supposed to be conduits, meaning energy flows through us, releasing the moment a spell takes form. You acted less like a conduit and more like a capacitor,” he explained .

“I don’t know what that means.”

Taking his hand back, he looked around the room, then plucked the straw from my glass and pulled out a large stone from his pocket.

“A capacitor is a type of repository. Think of it like a bank; only, instead of holding coin and jewels, it houses energy.” He held up the stone in the base of his palm. “Let’s pretend this opal is our capacitor, or storage unit. Now, say this straw is our conduit, or pathway.” He held the straw upright with his opposite hand and let the opening at the bottom rest against the opal. “If lightning struck here”—he indicated the top of the straw—“the energy would travel down the straw, conduit , and into the opal, capacitor , where it would hold the charge. In this scenario, the straw didn’t hold any energy; it was merely a pathway for the lightning to flow into the opal.”

“So, am I the straw or the opal?”

A weak chuckle escaped him. “Well, you’re either the strongest straw I’ve ever witnessed or the most dysfunctional opal. The truth is, I don’t know.” All humor drained from his features. “What I do know is that the only thing that helped were siphons.” He held up the opal.

I gave him a questioning look.

“In the realm of magic, a siphon embodies both a conduit and a capacitor, possessing a myriad of uses. For you, I used them to soak up the excess energy. There are tales of ancient fae that required multiple siphons to help wield their powerful, yet chaotic, magic. You’ve shattered five of them thus far. The one you’re wearing now has lasted the longest, and I think it may very well stay intact.”

I glanced down at myself for any evidence of the siphon he talked about. Finding nothing, I looked to him. He offered me a faint smile as he leaned toward me and reached for something. His fingers gently skimmed my collarbone as he released a hidden pendant from under my top.

My eyes fell upon my fingers as they followed the delicate line of the finely wrought chain. The stone was sluggish to lift away from my chest, and its weight tilted it in the opposite direction from my fingers. Releasing the chain down, the pendant slid back into position. Taking the gem between my fingers, my breath caught. The Mother’s extraordinary creation shimmered in a delicate shade of dusty pink that hinted at the gentle blush of magnolia blossoms.

Its beauty was subtle yet all-consuming. A captivating blend of refinement, elegance, and understated grandeur. She was more than a gem; she was a testament that even the dust of the universe, when nurtured under the right conditions, could culminate in such a radiant spectacle.

“It’s…stunning,” I managed. “What is it?”

A grin spread across his face. “It’s a diamond.”

“What?” I swallowed hard, suppressing the impulse to hurl it to the farthest corner of the room, wanting to distance myself from something of such immense value.

“Well, you’ve shattered everything else,” he said, and his eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief.