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Ziven is running by the river canyon, heading towards a large tree lying across it. An improvised bridge! All fae magic is weaker on our side, so crossing the river might save us.
My princess shoes are terrible for running, despite all the training I’ve had with them. It’s just that the ground is uneven, with loose gravel and small rocks.
Ziven turns and extends a hand toward me. Maybe it’s weird, but right now, everything is, and I let him pull me closer, until our chests are almost touching, and we’re soon enveloped in a round wall of ice.
This is definitely not a spur of magic driven by panic. Still, the wall is already cracking. His feat might only grant us a few seconds.
“We need to plan,” Ziven whispers.
Plan. Plan. In less than a second. “Can you encase him in ice?”
“It won’t hold.”
“Do it. When he breaks it, I’ll dazzle him with light, and you throw an ice dagger.” That would require an incredible proficiency in magic, but somehow, I’m sure Ziven has it, and the fact he doesn’t argue confirms it. “We then run in opposite directions. Go to the river, cross it, and I’ll head to the forest. Give me the chalice. He could be after that, and I’ll let him chase me.”
Ziven frowns, but gives me the relic. I hide it in one of my dress pockets.
“It’s my job,” I add.
“It’s wrong,” he protests. “We?—”
Our ice wall shatters, and I turn to see Marlak staring at us, an eyebrow raised. “Apologies for disturbing your romantic moment.”
Ugh. I’m pretending to be Ziven’s cousin—but the fae prince might not know that. I see a wall of ice forming around Marlak, and yet I know that it’s not going to work. Why did I suggest that stupid plan?
I bolt towards the trunk over the river. It’s not that I want to escape, it’s that I have a new plan. Glancing behind me, I see Ziven surrounded by ice. Even his opus stone is covered, which means he’s defenseless. Now, Marlak would want to kidnap, not kill him. But I have a hunch that’s not what he wants.
“You want this?” I raise the chalice. “Come and get it.”
I step onto the makeshift bridge. To my dismay, Ziven falls down, unconscious. I hope Marlak used his air magic to make him pass out, but didn’t kill him. Please don’t be dead. I can’t imagine what Master Otavio will tell me if a prince dies under my watch. I can’t imagine what Sayanne will feel.
I need to hold on to the hope that Ziven just fainted, and not dwell on the fact that this disgraced prince is a family murderer.
A wall of ice blocks my way forward on the bridge, and I feel a gust of air lifting me. I need to focus and call upon the Almighty Mother.
Light. Light can break magic.
A brilliant bubble surrounds me, shielding me from the wind, but I’m not even sure what I’m doing at this point. My plan had been to draw Marlak away from Ziven, but it might have been in vain. Am I going to risk my life for a useless relic? Then again, if the fae prince is after it, there must a reason.
My moment of doubt ruins my shield, and I feel air enveloping me and bringing me back to the riverbank, towards the disgraced prince.
Since he has the Shadow Ring, magic won’t affect him, which is why a wall around him could work. The physical effect of magic can work too. I focus and channel my inner faith, my connection with the Almighty Mother, and create a burst of light right as I throw my dagger.
Even with one hand shielding his eyes, Marlak stops the dagger at the very last second, and all it does is graze his shoulder—and rip his tunic.
What I see horrifies me.
His chest is covered in scars, a continuation of the burn marks covering his arm and neck, some of them adorned with tattoos. But it’s not the fact that he’s scarred that shakes me—it’s the shape of the scars.
I’ve seen it—many, many times.
On his chest, they form a star.
I’m lying on a warm chest where I feel so safe, my fingers caressing his skin, tracing a beautiful star on it. Some of it is scarred tissue, some of it are tattooed lines forming a delicate pattern.
His hands caress my hair, that soothing touch, and I meet his deep, dark eyes. Eyes like a bottomless lake.
No, no, no. I’m in the dream, enjoying it, and at the same time watching it, horrified.
