Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

47. Estania

Chapter 47

Estania

I sat rigid at the breakfast table, arms crossed tightly as if trying to contain the turmoil within. Despite the discussion that unfolded around me, my mind was disconnected, focus drifting into an oblivion that echoed the numbing void engulfing my spirit. While I couldn’t make myself concentrate on the words, I was vaguely aware of Thaddeus informing Tarrin and Nevander that they’d join us today.

The blurring edges of my vision barely registered Tarrin across from me. I sensed his attempts to make eye contact, and I wondered if my internally fraught vacancy had leaked into my external facade of calm.

“You’re okay with this?” Tarrin’s sharp words sliced through the fog—an unexpected jolt that forced my fragmented awareness back to the room.

I managed a slight nod, my gaze unyielding, tethered to some distant point that bore the weight of my focus.

“I asked her this morning if she was okay with it,” Thaddeus said, his tone sharp .

“Does it look like she’s fucken okay with it to you?” Tarrin barked back, and the fierce protectiveness in his tone struck a distant chord within me.

“It’s fine,” I whispered.

My focus shifted to Tarrin, his narrowed eyes probing, seeking the truth.

I attempted to reinforce my words but failed. “It’s fine.”

“You don’t have to do this, Ny,” Tarrin insisted, his voice bearing the weight of unspoken fears and concerns.

“Leave it be, Tarrin,” Nevander warned.

“You don’t give me orders.”

“We’re out of options,” I said, feeling the last vestiges of fight flee from my body.

Tarrin’s lips thinned, and I could tell he was about to protest again. “Tarrin, I’m not sure what else to do. I have the power, but Thaddeus has five hundred years on me. In my lifetime, I will literally never be able to wield spellcraft as well as him. Those are the undeniable facts. It’s because I can’t wield my own powers that we’re here, and I’m just going to have to own the consequences.”

In that fragile moment, I unwittingly pilgrimaged into the deepest, most sheltered recesses of my soul—like a bear seeking refuge in the sanctuary of hibernation, I retreated, in a desperate attempt to shield myself from the unforgiving and brutalizing exposure I was about to face.

I prayed to the stars that I’d retreated deep enough that the pain would be lessened, my stomach lurching as my body remembered the cleaving. With a sudden movement, I pushed back from the table, the chair scraping against the floor.

“I’ll meet you there,” I said to no one in particular, and excused myself from the table.

As the door closed, raised voices filled the room behind me. I didn’t let myself focus on their meaning as I walked the path of grim acceptance toward the training facility .

I wasn’t sure why I decided to go straight there. My standard go-to when I felt this way was the woods, not the training facility. But the anticipation, the anxiety, the fear that now owned me, and for the first time in my life I was completely uninterested in throwing. Not even blades could chase away these demons. The only way forward was through.

The spongy surface of the training facility gave way as I sank to my knees. Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead and hands against it, as if in prayer.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I whispered, unsure why I was apologizing, or to whom, but unable stop the words from tumbling out.

“I can do this,” I began saying until it was the new chant. Yet, no matter what I said, how long I knelt, or how much I prayed, sharp dread continued prickling through me.

It felt like cliff jumping. The crippling fear that held on tightest just before letting go and trusting the waters below—and no matter how many times the water hadn’t failed, it still required every ounce of willpower and stubborn determination to move past that fear and leap. Unfortunately, I had to jump, knowing full well that the landing below wasn’t a deep pool of water ready to catch me.

“Ny?” Tarrin’s concerned voice filled the space.

A shock of dread struck, and I forced myself to unfurl.

Too soon. It’s too soon.

Tarrin gripped my elbows, helping me up. “Gods, Ny, you’re trembling.” Deep lines etched his features where laugh lines normally formed.

I stepped out of his grasp so he couldn’t feel my traitorous body giving away just how terrified I was.

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Understanding my resolve, he searched for something in my eyes. “How can I help?” he finally asked. Though the mask of the trained soldier had fallen in place, he wasn’t able to hide the flash of desperation in his eyes. I could tell he fought every protective instinct inside of himself as he witnessed my palpable fear, but he bit it down, knowing it wouldn’t benefit me.

“Help me afterward. I don’t…” I stumbled on the words. “Thaddeus isn’t going to be in a state to help. He’ll most likely be strung out on the power, and I suspect he’s going to take a lot more this time.” I couldn’t stop my body from twisting as a chill scraped through me.

“How?” Tarrin asked.

“I’m not sure. The river again, maybe—nature seems to help. Someplace warm. I really don’t know, Tarrin. If I can’t talk, just pick your best guess. And, Tarrin, if it’s really bad, get Ava, okay?”

He nodded, and the tiniest sliver of dread lifted from my chest, knowing I’d have someone to help me heal afterward.

Tarrin pulled me in for a hug, and I didn’t stop him. “I’m sorry there isn’t another way, Ny.”

“Me too,” I whispered into his chest.

Tarrin released me, turning his focus toward the steps as Thaddeus and Nevander made their way toward us.

I inhaled a stilted breath.

“I can do this,” I said to myself once more—and hoped it was true.

I stood behind Thaddeus in the center of the mat.

His fingers released the white cotton shirt soundlessly to the ground, displaying the shifting muscles of his back—the once tantalizing exhibit now having the opposite effect.

“Ready?” Nevander’s asked from the other side of Thaddeus’ bulk.

I glanced to my left, making sure Tarrin was still there. Catching him off guard, he quickly replaced the deep concern that shadowed his eyes with a small smile of silent encouragement.

Refocusing, I found Thaddeus facing me. Countless emotions danced in his eyes—too many to read and too mixed to pluck out a single one by name. He leaned down, and the warmth of his breath caressed me before his lips met mine. From the corner of my eye, Tarrin averted his gaze as the gentle kiss lingered.

Thaddeus pressed his forehead against mine, and in a whisper only he and I could hear, he said, “Ready?”

I squeezed my eyes tight, then met his gaze and offered a curt nod. A faint tug lifted the side of his mouth before he turned away to face Nevander.

Palms forward, I raised my trembling hands toward Thaddeus’ back. The tremors that took hold were nearly uncontrollable, threatening accidental contact before I was prepared—before I could brace myself for what came next. My mind raced, conjuring harrowing images of what our connection would unleash.

Fighting against the tide of mounting panic, I inhaled to calm myself, but my breathing was jagged and labored, doing nothing to soothe the tempest of nerves.

I clasped my hands together, holding them tight, trying to get a grip on my fear. A single tear slid down my cheek in a mocking response.

Cassy. Leighton. Mrs. E. Eithan. Thaddeus. Tarrin. Nevander. The human realm. I can do this. I can do this.

Nodding in resolve, I closed my eyes.

Power sluggishly pooled around me, as if I’d lassoed a boulder and was forcing it through thick, unyielding mud. My powers clearly didn’t want to obey, so I pulled harder—long past the point of negotiating.

The spark relented, now flowing to the place Thaddeus drew power from.

My palms pressed against his cool, soft skin, and Thaddeus readied himself. Knowing what came next, my body began to revolt as bile rose to the back of my throat.

No. I can’t do this .

I went to release my hands, break the connection, but his unspoken spell reverberated through my mind.

Stenje ma .

The command rang through my body like millions of tiny lightning strikes, fracturing me. My eyes shot open, back arched, and mouth gaped open as a silent scream of agony ripped through me. It was the same cleaving pain as before, but sharper. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I was no longer in control.

My head lolled, tilting to the side, as power continued to flow from me, and a blue-white light lit Tarrin’s features, his eyes wide with horror.

Stenje ma . My body snapped to attention, and fresh, sharpened pain gripped my every sense at his unrelenting tone—my power roiled in protest.

Foreign images flooded my mind as if Thaddeus were pouring them into the spell—true wordless communication with whatever forces heeded his call. He expressed his desires, showed the outcome of what he wanted without being too descriptive, like an artist who had a vague idea of what the canvas wanted to become but left the details to the magic all artists tap into.

After receiving a compliment on a piece, I’d once heard an artist say, That’s how she wanted to be, I was merely a conduit in bringing her to life. He’d talked about the painting as if he weren’t even the artist, like he’d been a mere vessel and the Mother had worked her magic through him. That was what this reminded me of.

Image after image pressed from Thaddeus into me, my power, until he’d forced it to bend to his will. I gasped, not at what I beheld but at how that yielding surrendered more of myself to him, tethered me to him in a way it hadn’t before.

Blackness surrounded us as it had that day when Thaddeus had shown me our histories. Scenes flickered in the air, too quick for me to focus on any single one.

Tairus. Tairus , he soothed. The flashing slowed, narrowed, and above us, all around us, a map of the lands appeared, as clear as day .

Exashius. The order came through with the same demands as maiattor had that first time, slashing me from the inside out.

Exashius. Exashius. Exashius . Each command was more exacting—more wrenching—than the last.

My lower lip quivered uncontrollably, and I could no longer identify the different kinds of pain traversing my body. The torturous agony was now everywhere, constant. Had I been in control of my own faculties, I would have succumbed to unconsciousness already—but I would not be afforded such a mercy.

With every repetition of the spell, the map shifted, became more precise, more narrowed in as if it were showing a snapshot of a bird’s-eye view from a different altitude, getting closer every time.

Finally, six snapshots popped up in succession, then it pulled out to show the full map again, leaving behind six marks on the map.

Thaddeus’ anger was palpable. The spell hadn’t complied with his request. He’d asked for the magical object first, but it looked like the power had disobeyed him, giving him the portals instead—if that was what those markings were.

Thaddeus screamed in frustration, his rage boiling over, and he threw it toward my power, toward me, and in our mother tongue, he said, “You will yield to me.”

Five hundred years of practice and unrelenting will crashed into me. I buckled from the force, and my legs gave out as a bloodcurdling scream tore from me. My power continued to resist him, while my body caved to his demands.

“ You. Will. Yield. To. Me .” Each word was strained, clipped, as if he was having a hard time containing the power too. In an instant, the blackness around us vanished as my power began submitting to the order.

An invisible force suspended me in midair, my hands unmoving, still offering my power to him.

“Yield.” The sound of his voice shocked me. It wasn’t in my mind, but an actual spoken command .

Running out of options, my power was about to give in, its resistance placing too much strain on my body.

Tears that tasted of copper ran into my mouth.

“Thaddeus,” Tarrin yelled. “Stop. You’re killing her.”

Thaddeus’ rage doubled back, angry at the disturbance. We both knew my powers were mere seconds from yielding to him, and I felt his anticipation of exaltation that surely awaited him.

Tarrin made for me.

“ Estania .” Thaddeus’ cold command rang out as he unleashed his fury on Tarrin.

Tarrin rammed into my side, wrapping his arms around me, one hand cradling my head as he tackled me out of the way. Our screams echoed from the sudden disconnection.

Although Thaddeus and I were physically separated, my power hadn’t retracted into me quickly enough, and he still commanded it.

“ Estania .” Darkness hurtled toward us.

Faster than I could think, I threw myself over Tarrin covering his body, readying to take the full might of the blow.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered and saw devastation in his eyes. I tensed, readying for the pain—only, it never came.

A glistening dome of energy surrounded us, filled with tiny embers of muted white.

Tarrin gasped in what seemed like pain, not surprise. Unable to see past the magic that safely cocooned us, I reoriented myself.

I felt the spell that Thaddeus had recklessly thrown at Tarrin being absorbed by the dome. As the barrier drank in the raw energy, it soothed the magic back to its natural state and seeped back into me, slowly tucking itself in where it belonged.

A sob of relief left me, and blood splattered on Tarrin’s chest. I collapsed on top of his sturdy body and felt the slickness of the warm red liquid beneath my cheek, too exhausted to move.

A blinding flash of light filled the dome.

White splotches predominated my vision, and it took several moments to blink them away. Once cleared, I blinked in earnest, not trusting what I saw.

Before me lay the ethereal beauty of the familiar mountains that held a teal-blue lake.

Tarrin wrapped his arms around me and whispered, “We’re okay.”

Tears cascaded down my cheeks onto his bloodied chest, and I wept.