“None of their Essence calls to you more strongly?”
I haltingly shook my head and heard the priest hum in response before they closed their hand over the crystals and placed them back in the bag.
“Very interesting, Child of Fate,” was all the priest said.
They turned away from me, but not before reaching for one of my hands and holding it aloft, palm facing the gathered expectant crowd.
“She holds the power of Creation!” they announced, their voice undulating about the room.
Creation?! But what about both pillars igniting?I went to question the priest, but they squeezed my captured hand tightly, which promptly caused the words to die in my throat.
Applause and loud exclamations coursed through the many guests, none as loud as my brother and father. My father looked positively overjoyed with the news of my affinity and designation. I could just imagine him bragging to all the other dignitaries in attendance howhisdaughter was a Creation Mage, and a powerful one! Peytor’s face sported a smile, but his eyes told a different story. He was older than me and the heir to Hestin, but as a Creation Mage, I outranked him both in power and affiliation. Another quick glance showed none of the previous dismay, but there was a tinge of apprehension and worry that he couldn’t disguise.
As the applause died down, the priest led me from the platform. As we descended the stairs, I snuck a glance to where Torin leaned against the wall during my ceremony, but there was no one there. I looked about, searching for him in the crowd, but never came across his honey-flecked eyes. He seemingly disappeared. My heart sank at the discovery, and I frantically searched again, hoping I’d missed him, but something in my blood told me he was gone.
I did, however, unwittingly make eye contact with Lord d’Refan. His face gave nothing away, but his eyes tracked my every movement as I descended the platform and was promptly engulfed in hugs from my family and the nearest guests. The priest slipped into the crowd, and when I resurfaced from the overexuberant displays of affection, they were gone completely, and so was Lord d’Refan.
None of these singular events were more alarming than what I felt inside, swirling in my gut.
Magic was there, thrumming in my very blood. If I wanted to, I could reach and pull on it, use it, create with it. I discreetly checked my skin and the corset of my dress, trying to see if the priest snuck a full crystal somewhere. But all searches proved futile.
I wasn’t a Vessel and I didn’t have any crystals, but I could feel that I could somehow store my own power and access it.
Fear, hot and heady, coursed through my veins as reality set in and I made eye contact with Lord d’Refan as he disguised himself in the throngs of people. He winked, as if we shared some secret, before he disappeared completely. In a room full of people, I felt more isolated than ever.
Chapter 21
Ellowyn
Ipadded across the dry and cracked landscape, occasionally tripping over some of the larger divots, causing my steps to falter and my ire to grow.
Why did I keep coming here?
I angrily pulled my nightgown up so my legs and feet had greater room to move. I thought about ripping off the bottom completely but wasn’t sure how I would explain a ripped night dress to Pip . . . or Mother. I groaned inwardly as I grasped the bottom of it in my arms.
A roll of thunder and crack of lightning punctuated my thoughts, and I halted my steps, choosing instead to twist my face to the sky. Colors rolled and swirled above me, mingling with the black clouds. Some of the tendrils flowed lazily about, almost teasing the sky, while others moved with agitated precision, all jagged edges and anger.
It was heady, seeing the colors interact that way, and I found myself getting lost in their depths.
They moved with such purpose, such emotion, that it was hard to believe this was all something my mind created.
“I haven’t discovered what that is, yet,” a voice said thoughtfully from behind me.
I screamed, my voice loud in the otherwise quiet space, my terror echoing off the mountains in the distance. The storm and colors seemed to react to my fright,each swirling in earnest. I whirled around, my nightgown still clutched in my hands, and came face-to-face with Torin.
My jaw was open, my mouth in a silent “o” as my eyes quickly raked over him. He was dressed in a plain cream tunic and loose brown pants, his sun-kissed hair tousled as if he rolled around in bed before appearing here. My cheeks heated at the thought of Torin in bed, and I quickly tore my eyes from his form, only to meet his gaze head-on.
He looks good.
If possible, my cheeks heated further, and I clutched my nightgown tightly.
Torin’s eyes never left my face, but he gave me a slight wink when our gazes connected, acknowledging that not only did he know I was checking him out, but that he was completely okay with it.
I gulped, and he folded his arms loosely across his chest, tightening the sleeves of his tunic and exposing sculpted biceps and shoulders. My eyes instantly tracked the movement and Torin let out a low, gravelly chuckle.
I closed my eyes on a frustrated groan.
Great. Just great.
