Chapter Eight
Thenextmorning,Jerahwokehimbrightandearly.Forhowlittlesunlighttherewas,Florianthoughtbitterlyashefreshenedupanddressedhimself,itseemedeveryoneherewasamorningperson.ButJerah'sbrightchatteroverbreakfastwascontagious,andbythetimetheyhadarrivedbackinhisstudytostarttheirlessons,Florianhadshakenoffthelastlingeringdregsofsleepandwasnowfeelingmoreeagerthanhehadanticipated.
“What are we starting with?” he asked as Jerah sat down opposite him across a table with a small stack of books atop it.
“History,” Jerah said, and Florian's heart sank a little bit—that sounded much less interesting than the magic he'd so recently learned. Jerah seemed to notice the shift in his expression and laughed. “I know, I know. But there are rules to our magic, and knowing the context of them will help. I think this book is a good starting point.”
With a sigh Florian took the book that Jerah handed to him. While he certainly hadn't been a poor student, he was no scholar either. He liked to read well enough, but it had been a while since he'd purposefully sat down with a book. The prospect of getting through an entire history book was wholly unappealing; but to his surprise, Jerah pulled a second copy of the same book from the small pile in front of them and started flipping through it.
“Here, this chapter,” he said, pointing to a page. “Let's go over it together.”
Florian followed along as Jerah read aloud, standing up to pace in front of the table as he did so. The chapter was about the establishment of the fae courts and their differences, including an explanation of their relationship to the shifter clans. From what he could tell, there was no functional difference between fae of the Winter Court and those of the Summer Court other than geographical—but then Jerah started talking about Spring and Autumn courts, and Florian frowned in confusion.
“Wait, how many courts are there?” he interrupted.
“Well, only one, now,” Jerah answered, lowering the book. A pained expression crossed his eyes briefly as he looked over at Florian. “The Spring and Autumn courts were close enough to the Summer Court that they did not survive, unfortunately. There were a handful of fae who lived and made it here, but their families are part of the Winter Court now.”
“I see,” Florian said, though he still had more questions than answers. Jerah paused, as if waiting for him to continue; but when a beat of silence had passed, and he hadn't asked any more questions, Jerah started to recite from the book once more.
It was all rather dry in the end. Jerah had said it was going to relate to the rules of magic, but as far as Florian could tell there was no connection: only a list of names of varying individuals who had apparently founded each of the courts, which meant nothing to him. He hoped that maybe his father would explain further, but by the time they had finished the chapter, he set the book down with a sigh.
“I think that's enough reading for today,” he said decisively, standing up to stretch. “Let's practice something a little more fun instead.”
“Sure,” Florian laughed, standing up as well.
“Nothing too crazy, mind you. I don't want to ruin any of my books,” Jerah laughed. “Listen. Like I said, it's usually considered rude to use your magic on another fae without permission, but let's practice some of that. If you do end up needing it, it’ll come in handy. For example…” A grin spread across his face. “For example, you can't see me.”
Florian blinked, and Jerah was gone. “W-What?” he stammered, glancing around.
“You can't see me,” Jerah repeated. His voice was coming from the same place where he had been standing, but when Florian tried to look at him, it was as if his eyes were pushed away, unable to focus on the spot where he knew Jerah must still be. “But you can use your magic to change that. Focus.”
“How?” Florian asked, but no answer came. He hesitated, thinking—all it had taken was for Jerah tosaythat he couldn't be seen, so could the solution be just as simple?
He focused his magic, pushing it through his mouth as he spoke. “Icansee you.”
A flickering image appeared where Jerah had been, as if the magic had sparked a conflict of wills, struggling to overpower each other . But quickly the quivering shape snapped into place, and his father was grinning down at him with a proud gleam in his eye.
“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “Let's keep that up. Here.” He picked up a paperweight from the table, a small stone cat with tiny yellow gems for eyes. “Try and take this from me.”
As Florian reached out quickly, he could hear Jerah murmuring. “You can't touch me.”
His fingers were nearly closed around the stone figurine, when it suddenly felt as if he'd pressed his hands to a window pane, and his fingernails scrabbled uselessly just centimeters away from it.
“Icantouch you,” Florian said, but Jerah had already tossed the figurine into his other hand and was taking a step further away.
“You can't touch me,” he repeated, and again the invisible force prevented Florian from getting close enough to grab the figurine. He scowled, considering for a moment, as Jerah flashed a goading smile at him from across the table. “Giving up already?”
“No,” Florian snapped, shaking his head. He just had to think. There was too much space between them to try the same words again. Jerah would just cancel it out before he could get close enough. There had to be another way to get it.
Could he just... have it already? Would that work? He almost opened his mouth to ask, but thought better of it. If it wouldn't work, then it wouldn't work, so there was no harm in trying.
“It's already in my hand,” he said slowly, and a cold weight suddenly filled his palm. With a laugh, he held it up, turning the stone figurine in his hand. Its yellow gem eyes glinted slightly in the room’s magical light, and across from him he could hear Jerah laugh as well.
“Clever!” he exclaimed, taking a step closer to Florian and patting his shoulder. “Now, just keep in mind something like that will only work with items that aren't magical on their own, or haven't been tethered to a place or a person in some way already. So it's good for maybe finding a lost trinket, but not so much for something that's important or powerful.”
“Like the Arrows,” Florian mused, setting down the figurine.
“Like the Arrows,” Jerah agreed. “You could have also tried something like preventing me from moving, or making me drop it. But just taking it was clever.”
