Kit.
Just thinking her name sent a shiver of remorse down Elyria’s spine. Artie was still talking. The tavern bustled with activity as the staff continued cleaning up. It all faded as Elyria was pulled back to a time when her life was filled with laughter instead of regret.
Golden sunlight bouncedoff Kit’s moonlight-colored hair as Elyria watched her. Her hands were clasped together, brow furrowed in concentration.
“Come on, Kitty Kat. You’ve got to focus,” Evander said. He held out his hand, a swirling orb of water dancing over his palm.
“Iamfocusing. It’s harder than it looks, you know.” Kit drew her hands apart, and a ball of water materialized between her palms...then dribbled through her fingers a moment later. She groaned in frustration, her mismatched eyes—one blue, one green—swimming with misery when she met Elyria’s gaze. “Four hells, I’m never going to master this.”
“Chin up, darling.” Elyria reached over and gently adjusted Kit’s hands. “It takes practice, and your brother has a century on you. Remember what he told you before—you have tofeelthe magic. Feel the moisture in the air, the water in your blood.” She pointed across the grassy meadow to the small brook babbling quietly nearby. “Feel it there. Then, grasp it, embrace it. Let it course through you. But don’t fight it. Don’t try to trap it.”
Evander chuckled, his deep voice a comforting rumble. He draped his arm over Elyria’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.
Kit sighed but cracked her neck and folded one hand over the other once more.
“Your magic is a river. You have to let it flow,” reminded Elyria.
Kit loosed a slow breath through her mouth, then parted her palms. A sphere of water formed between them, swirling and eddying just like Evander’s—a miniature ocean in her hands.
Her eyes lit up, her blue iris rippling as if it were made of water too. “I’m doing it!” she exclaimed.
“You’re doing it,” murmured Elyria, pride flaring in her chest.
“One day, I’m going to be as strong as you, Ellie.”
Elyria’s lips parted in surprise. Pressure gathered in her chest. She looked at Evander. Caught the sad, knowing look in his eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Not bad, Kitty Kat. Now, just do that a few hundred times more. Easy.”
Elyria ducked as the sphere suddenly zoomed toward Evander. The cool water splashed her as it exploded on his face.
“Katerina,” he scolded, sputtering as he pawed at the black hair that was now plastered to his forehead. Kit stuck out her tongue at him, and the pressure in Elyria’s chest deflated as she doubled over with laughter.
With a jolt,Elyria slammed back to the present. “Damn it,” she muttered, her hand shaking as she reached for the mug of water that had been placed in front of her.
“All right there, Elle?” Artie’s voice was laced with concern.
“Fine, fine,” she lied, “just memories.” She closed her eyes, unsure if she wanted to shake the images from her mind or keep them there forever. “Memories...and ghosts.”
He didn’t press further, but she could see the question in his eyes. She pushed her bowl aside and stood, glad she shoveled down what she had, when she had. She suspected her appetite would not return for some time, given what she now had to do.
“Taking off, then?”
“There’s something I need to take care of.” She hesitated before adding, “Not sure when I’ll be back.”
The tavern master nodded, his expression difficult to read. Elyria wanted to tell him how much she appreciated his hospitality; how much it meant that he’d put up with her these past months. But given the mix of emotion churning in her, she didn’t know how to do so without making a blubbery scene. And she knewthatwould have the poor dwarf running to the first quarter of hell in embarrassment. So, she simply said, “Until next time, old man.”
Elyria took a deep breath as she stepped onto the bustling streets of Coralith. With her belly full and thirst slaked, her head was vastlyimproved, and she threw a quick prayer of thanks up to Solaris, or Lunara, or Earth Mother Gaia—whichever celestial would claim credit for the small mercy. Hells, she would even have been willing to lay her gratitude at the feet of Noctis, Warden of Shadows, for how much better she felt. Any of them would do, she supposed, aside from the banished star god, Aurelia. Even Elyria knew better than to invoke that cursed name.
She squinted at the sky and true enough, the clouds were alight with faint beams of purple and green. She still had time.
She needed to find Kit. Had to talk to her. Had to try.
She owed her that much.
She owed her much, much more.
7
