I shot him a cutting glare.
“I meant that in a completely non-romantic kind-of-way…just in ahe cares for your safetykind-of-way.”
My thoughts returned to Lioran, the way he towered over me again. The way his silver eyes met mine.
I breathed deeply. Fyn’s words were getting to me, but I wouldn’t let them.
The branches of the willow waved in the wind as we approached. Cora rested beneath it.
“Lioran is on the move,” he warned her.
“And you needed to warn me why?” She laughed.
“Something tells me he won’t be able to stay away.” His eyes shifted from her to me. I glared in response.
“Ah, well, I won’t hesitate to send him back to bed.” Cora’s hands wrapped around the branches, lifting them out of the way as they swung about. “Let’s get to work.”
Fyn disappeared over the tree trunk bridge.
Cora stumbled back. She collided with the willow quaking—a blurry haze formed over her eyes. I gripped her shoulder—steadying her.
“Cora?” I called to her, but she didn’t respond. I pulled the blade of my dagger from my belt aiming it in front of us. “Cora?” My voice cracked.
My hand trembled, the sweat from my palms loosening my grip on the dagger.
Cora gasped loudly, struggling to inhale.
Fear laced her eyes as she examined my dagger.
“Put…that away,” she scolded me.
The metal scraped against the leather, chewing it raw, as I slid it back into the sheath. “What happened?”
“I had a vision.” Her voice quaked with each word she spoke.
I pressed my water flask into her hands. “You looked as if you saw something horrific.”
She chugged the water. The flask violently shook in her grip. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No…” Her voice trailed off. “Let’s get back to training.” She dusted herself off as she stood. Her legs betrayed her, and she stumbled again.
“Maybe you should rest.”
“We need to keep training until you can control it.” She took a deep breath and rose again.
“Because of the vision?” I asked.
She gulped and pulled her hair back from her face. Silence greeted me as I awaited her answer—a chill rippled through me. She was breathless, shaken by a reality that she didn’t want me to know.
“Forget the vision. Just focus on what I tell you.” Her fingers twitched at her sides.
We spent the next hour listening to the ground, touching tree bark, and trailing plants with my magic glow. The ground remained still under my touch, but I felt it: the steady, familiar hum. The land was calling to me still.
The whisper of the wind, the roots of the tree—I could feel their energy moving through me. The steady heartbeat beneath the dirt reverberated through me, racing in time with my own. I traced the roots of the willow before I pressed them deeper into the soil.
A distinct vibration interrupted the melody, grounding me where I stood. Its calm washed over me—familiar and safe. My eyes remained shut. I feared breaking whatever bond I’d established.
