Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

44. Implications Abound

Chapter 44

Implications Abound

U nable to bear the tension between them, I’d brushed off Thaddeus and Tarrin’s help when we got back into the palace, promising I was okay. But making it to my suite was no small feat. I’d collapsed before the last hallway, and a couple of servants helped me the rest of the way.

Trying to steady myself, I leaned against the edge of the bed with my hands gripping its side, feet pressed into the glossy tile. My head wouldn’t stop spinning, and as if caught in a spiderweb, I couldn’t move.

A tentative knock sounded at the door.

“Enter,” I said weakly.

The door creaked open, and I turned my head, surprised to see Tarrin.

His face, normally alight with mischief, looked drained, and his eyes were filled with confused sadness.

“Nyleeria, what happened out there?” His voice was soft, but strained as if he was trying to hold back hurt, possibly anger. “Thaddeus won’t tell me anything.”

Silence fell as I let my tired eyes rest, trying to dispel the whirlwind still turning in my head. I knew Tarrin desperately needed to know, but I couldn’t relive it right now—possibly ever.

“Tarrin?”

His response was instant, alert: “Yes?”

“I need your help.”

“What is it? Are you okay?” His eyes darted across my body, searching for any sign of injury.

“Can you take me to the river?” It was an odd request, but something within me felt called to it, like a wild beast drawn to a watering hole in a drought.

Tarrin raised a brow but didn’t question further. Instead, he stood up and held out a hand. It wasn’t the first time he’d obliged one of my requests without forcing me to explain, and it was possibly my favorite trait of his.

“I can carry you,” Tarrin said, hovering. His words were soft, questioning.

My arm twined through his, I relied heavily on his sturdy frame as we languidly crawled across the estate. Despite my drained energy making each step difficult, there was a serene comfort in the warmth of the perfect summer day combined with the soft blades of grass caressing my bare feet.

“I know.” I squeezed his hand and leaned my head against him. “Thank you.”

Tarrin didn’t push. Didn’t say another word. Just patiently walked with me, stealing worried glances from time to time. I was grateful for his steady presence and grace.

The sight of the river was like a balm to my frayed nerves, pulling me toward it. Without a second thought, I released Tarrin’s arm and strode into its embrace, the water hungrily lapping at my skirt until its weight insistently tugged downstream .

As the water rose to my waist, I pivoted, positioning my back against the current. The solid assurance of two rocks beneath my feet anchored me, and I surrendered to the river’s might, reclining against its invisible hands. Relaxing fully into the flow, I allowed the water’s healing song to caress my aching bones—my crestfallen soul.

“Thank you,” I breathed to the Mother as she enveloped me.

Strands of my hair swirled and twined in the water’s embrace, tickling my skin with its gentle caress. Every passing droplet spoke in gentle hushes as they held me up, like the river itself could soothe that sacred and ancient part of me that had been violated.

I searched for that part of me—the one I’d recklessly laid bare today. She felt as I did, weary but stirring once more.

“I’m sorry.” The whispered words were lost amid the babbling current.

Water poured from me as I approached a weary-eyed Tarrin, standing steadfast on the rocky shoreline. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he lent me a hand. I was grateful for his help, as each land-bound step had the sodden weight of my skirt threatening to pull me downstream.

“Here,” Tarrin said and led me up a small slope.

I was surprised to find that I followed him with ease, my strength slowly returning.

As we crested the short incline, a vast slab of slate greeted us. Its smooth, glistening surface promised heat as it captured the sun, a faint, colorless wave emanating from it.

Just as the coolness of the river had filled me, so did the heat as the soles of my feet soaked up what the boulder offered. Still sopping wet, the water pooled at my feet before meandering down invisible pathways and returning back to the river.

I lowered myself beside Tarrin. He didn’t say, or demand, anything, but merely took me in, his look questioning but gentle, silently asking if I was okay. I knew then that he’d accept if I kept the memories to myself, and something in that knowledge made me want to tell him. Until that moment, I hadn’t decided if I’d talk about it with anyone—including Thaddeus.

“I found a way to let Thaddeus draw from my power,” I explained.

Tarrin’s eyes widened in surprise, but he remained silent.

I looked toward the river, not seeing what was in front of me as my mind stepped back into the memory.

“It worked,” I offered. “It strengthened him.” The cracking of the pillars rang in my ears.

I churned the details over again and again in my mind.

“I could hear him,” I said, more to myself than Tarrin. “His silent commands…his spells.” The memory repeated itself. “Tarrin,” I asked tentatively, meeting his gaze, “what does maiattor mean?”

“He said that?” Tarrin asked, his brows knitting together.

“Thought it.”

“It means more in the old tongue.”

“That’s what I thought.” For that was the order he’d repeated again and again when he’d felt my power coursing through his veins. He’d demanded more and took it by using a spell, instead of accepting what was given to him. I shuddered.

“It… He…” I swallowed. “When we were…connected, the second he tapped into me, I no longer had control.”

“Of the power?” His voice was heartbreakingly gentle, as if trying to safeguard an autumnal leaf from turning to dust between his rugged fingers.

“Or of myself. I was…trapped. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t stop it. All I could do was watch. Feel it…” I paused. “It felt like I’d taken a dagger, not in any one place, but as if my aura was being cleaved.” The words were sloppy, and my explanation was stupid. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m sorry.”

If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have thought Tarrin’s look could soften any further, but it did as he said, “It’s not stupid, Nyleeria. I get your meaning.”

“Has he ever talked to you like that before?” I asked, remembering how Thaddeus had dismissed Tarrin so completely in the courtyard.

“In the five centuries I’ve known Thaddeus, I’ve never heard him speak that way to anyone. He has always been a patient, level-headed monarch, and friend.” The words were slightly pained.

“You said he refused to talk to you after I left.”

Tarrin nodded.

“Why?”

“I don’t know for certain. If I were to guess, I’d say there are a lot of emotions at play.” I raised a brow, and he went on. “This has been a long time coming for him, for us. You’ve been a long time coming. I can imagine he felt elation at being able to tap into the spark—if that’s, in fact, what happened—along with relief that the wait was worth it. Mostly likely frustration or possibly anger, at how it affected you, and shame at getting angry with you.”

I let his words sit between us, mulling them over. Yes, I shared a bed with Thaddeus, but Tarrin and Nevander knew him in a different way than I did—would know his fears and insecurities.

“I had no idea,” I said. “He never… He’s always so calm. Collected.”

“Yes. He usually is. I think you complicate things for him, though.”

“What do you mean?”

Tarrin gave a soft chuckle and shook his head. “His feelings for you, Ny. It’s not as black and white with you as it is with others.”

My head spun, unable to wrap my mind around what Tarrin was implying. Thaddeus and I got on, to be sure, but his feelings didn’t run deep. He’d told me himself that he was closed off to such things, that he wouldn’t even entertain them until his people, his future family, were safe.

“For argument’s sake, let’s say you’re right. How would he act differently if I weren’t me?” I asked.

“He’d tap into your energy, no matter what it cost, and he wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Not if it helped save our people.” The cold, stark truth Tarrin spoke halted me, reframing everything I thought I knew.

I wasn’t sure what he could read on my face, but Tarrin said, “Nyleeria, Thaddeus is a good man, but in the past five centuries, he’s had to do things that mark a man’s soul. We all have. Not out of choice, but necessity.”

I understood then that, in a way, this never stopped being a war to them. Not one played out on a battlefield, but of strategy, patience, procurement. I couldn’t imagine having to bide my time, forced to do unimaginable things, saddled with the burden of protecting mankind. I heaved a sigh. The pressure, the enormity of what he’d shouldered for so many years—I couldn’t imagine.

I looked at Tarrin, needing to voice the truth that kept repeating itself to me. “He scared me today, Tarrin. The way he reacted… It was exulting—like some sort of high.”

“I know. I felt it from him too.” His eyes darkened at the admission.

“I don’t know what to do, Tarrin.” I looked at him, hoping for answers.

“I can’t help you with that, Ny. You’re going to have to decide that for yourself and talk to Thaddeus about it. Just remember that he cares for you, and you both want the same thing at the end of the day.”