Chapter Twenty-One
Avari
The curse my mother cast on me proved difficult to recover from. Though my powers slowly returned and for a while I felt almost normal, the damage lingered. My strength slipped day by day until River finally summoned his doctor.
It took a full week to recover, a long week with Michael buried in his spy work and River consumed by whatever came with ruling a kingdom. I tried not to think about the possibility of him joining the battle on the Gem Fields; choosing a side felt impossible.
In the quiet days, I befriended a few kitchen staff who taught me simple recipes. One day, I planned to try them myself.
Anya understood that in my weakened state, I couldn’t soar with her above the Fogoyan skies, so she stayed with me on the ground while I read about fire magic. Those peaceful hours with her felt like honey for my blistered soul. I missedher, and at last I could rest, truly rest, while the remnants of the curse faded away.
‘Focus on expanding it,’ River instructed when we resumed training. Only, instead of me training him, the tides have shifted.
When I woke yesterday without pain and able to take full breaths, I told him we could start. He looked relieved, maybe as eager to return to our little routine as I was.
Copper-coloured embers flared from my palms as I released them. I kept focusing and applying pressure in hopes of building their size and intensity the way I used to when I practised alone.
River watched for a while, then announced, ‘I think I know what the problem is.’
‘So there is a problem,’ I muttered. I always felt something off about my fire.
‘Yes. But it’s not the fire,’ he said, stepping closer.
‘What is it then?’
‘Here, feel this.’ His hand engulfed mine as he slowly intensified the flames surrounding us. ‘Can you sense the difference?’
For a moment, I simply watched our kindred flames chase one another.
‘Is there a difference?’ I asked.
He let out a quiet laugh, covering his mouth with his knuckles when he realised I was serious.
‘You need to let go,’ he instructed. ‘You’re smouldering it. It has no room to grow.’
‘Said the pot to the kettle,’ I shot back, wishing I could set his hair on fire. Between the two of us, he was the real control freak.
Still smiling, he released a sigh that revealed a little of his frustration. ‘Everyone does it at first.’
‘I don’t feel like I’m smouldering it.’
‘Have a noose around your neck long enough, and it starts to feel like a necklace,’ he said, focused on my hand.
‘And he’s a poet now.’ My frustration simmered. How could I still be failing the basics?
‘I’m a man of many trades,’ he quipped, retreating. ‘That’s enough for today.’
The increasing number of smiles the king had started dishing out concerned me; wasn’t that a sign of a stroke?
‘Already? It’s only been an hour.’ I refused to remain a failure any longer.
‘I don’t want you disheartened,’ he said gently. ‘Besides, I’ve got plans.’ Looking down, he checked his watch, and a smug smile tugged at his mouth once more.
Maybe he had a date with the raven-haired woman. ‘Oh. Okay. Anything important?’
‘Care to join?’ He offered, looking increasingly curious as he noted my suspicion.
‘Depends,’ I quickly replied. ‘What am I getting into?’
