Chapter Eighteen
Elodiemovedtowardthefireplaceonthefarwall,hergaitlongandloping,andbeckonedforFloriantofollow.FlorianlookeddownatKade,whoremainedseated.Theireyesmetinsilenceforalongmoment,untilfinallyFlorianscrubbedahandnervouslythroughhismessyhairandmurmured,
“It’ll be okay. I just need you to trust me on this.”
Kade seemed to almost flinch, looking away quickly with a pained expression. At first he didn’t answer, which set Florian’s heart beating fast against his ribs; but finally he gave a small, curt nod, and replied stiffly,
“I know.”
Florian wasn’t sure what exactly that meant. It didn’t seem hostile, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Tentatively, he reached for Kade’s hand. The other man didn’t pull away, and when Florian squeezed his fingers hard, Kade squeezed his hand back.
“Come along,” Elodie said from where she stood by the fireplace. Florian nodded, and with one last look at Kade, he pulled his trembling hand away and followed her.
Once they were both in front of the fireplace, Elodie extended her hand to him. This close, her skin seemed pale and thin, stretched tightly over her long fingers. Her nails were black, almost like claws. Gingerly, Florian set his hand in hers; the moment their skin touched, a familiar lurching sensation rocked him forward.
He flinched on instinct, his eyes squeezing shut, and when he opened them again, they were no longer in the witch’s sitting room. It was bright, almost too bright—there were no walls containing them and no floor beneath them. They were surrounded by white space on all sides, as if they were floating, though he still had the sensation of his feet on... something.
Florian looked around wildly, but it was only him and Elodie in this massive white expanse.
“No need to be concerned,” she said, as idly as if they had simply stepped into another room. “We’re in a… well, a liminal space, of sorts. We won’t be interrupted, and there will be no distractions. I find more involved magic easier to work with in this space.”
“How did...?” Florian stammered, still looking around. The unchanging landscape was disorienting. “Where is this?”
“Nowhere,” she answered with a shrug. “A quiet place I made for my own use, outside of the world.”
“You can do that?” he asked incredulously, finally settling his gaze on her. She laughed.
“There is much that can be done,” she replied, stepping closer to him. “Now, would you like to identify this fae connected to you or not?”
“Yes,” he said. He wanted to ask how any of this was possible, if she could show him how to do this, too—but there were far more pressing matters. Maybe someday he could come back.
“Give me both your hands.”
He obeyed, holding out his hands, which she grasped tightly in her own.
“Now,” she said, looking at him carefully—in this light, her eyes were a much brighter purple than before. “I will show you first how to differentiate between using fae magic and old magic. I want you to try pushing my hands out of yours, without speaking, without moving any part of your body.”
“Okay,” Florian said, frowning. He closed his eyes and imagined pushing her hands away with his words, sending the sensation through his fingertips while biting his tongue. With a slight jolt, like a zap of static, he felt her hands forced away from his.
“That was easy,” he said as he opened his eyes, grinning—only to hesitate at the look of surprise on her face, slowly morphing into a frown with furrowed brows.
“Curious,” she murmured. “Curious... What was the first thing you learned to do with your magic?”
“What?”
“You weren’t raised in the Veil, so I assume Jerah taught you to use fae magic, right?”
“Well, yes... The first thing he taught me was how to make a little light in my hand. Like the floating lanterns in the castle.” He remembered being so enamored with the little floating lights, but now it was as simple and easy as tying his shoelaces.
“Show me,” she said, gesturing abruptly as she took a step back.
“Why?” he asked, confused. What was the point? Weren’t they here to figure out about the fae spirit?
“I need to see something,” she replied simply. Florian sighed, unnerved at her sudden intense focus, but he cupped his hand in front of him anyway.
“Light,” he said. A globule of light blossomed in his palm, though it was almost indiscernible against the bright white of everything around them. He looked back at Elodie; her expression was more thoughtful now, almost curious.
“You haven’t been using fae magic at all, have you?” she said.
