Page 111 of Fate of the Sun King

I focus on that locked door inside my chest. It’s not as firmly shut as it was a few weeks ago, but it still resists like it’s being forced on rusted hinges. Bit by bit, Nadir has helped me inch it open. He stands across from me, and our gazes meet.

“He was a child, too,” I say. “He had to protect us, but he had no one to protect him.” Tears run down my cheeks, flowing freely as they spill down my chin, mingling with my brother’s blood.

“I know that,” Nadir says. “But I promise you he doesn’t regret a single thing he did to protect either of you.”

I nod with a knot caught in my throat, and then I force myself to concentrate. It’s been so long, but I remember the cuts and scrapes we’d sustain exploring the forest in our youth. When my mother stopped us from using our magic, it was a piece of myself I’d lost. I’ve spent so much of my life wondering if I would have been able to save my parents if the Aurora King hadn’t taken us away.

The magic inside my chest crackles like static sparks, and I force it out, bit by bit. My brother is going to die if I don’t do something, so I do everything I can. I will not let him die.

“What’s going on?” I hear my sister’s voice distantly. “Tris!”

She screams, the broken sound nearly shattering me into a pile of splinters on the floor.

“Stay back,” comes Nadir’s soft voice. “She’s healing him.”

I keep my gaze focused on my brother’s face, but I feel Willow standing across from me too.

“Willow,” I whisper as magic filters slowly out of me. “We can’t lose him.”

“We won’t, Lor. You can do this. I know you can do this.”

I draw it out of me bit by bit, small threads at a time. When I was practicing with Nadir earlier, it was an unrestrained torrent, but I can’t rely on brute force this time. This task requires more precision and more finesse. Lightning sparks in my veins, but I pull it back because it isn’t what I need right now.

I go deeper, closing my eyes, rooting around in the pieces of myself I know once existed, buried for so long. I find the softer ribbon of my magic. It’s not like Nadir’s, but there’s a sinuous quality different from my lightning magic. It’s dense, like thick satin ribbons instead of his airy light.

It’s the healing magic I remember. I let it twirl out down through my arms and then to my fingertips, slowly, so slowly easing it into Tristan. My body trembles with the effort of holding it back, but this is what I must do. I remember this part. If I allow too much out, it transforms into the more destructive form of my magic. Gradually, I feed it into my brother’s chest.

I forgot how hard this is.

A pair of warm arms circles my waist, and I recognize my sister’s scent. The magic resists at the same time it tries to break free. It’s like holding two pieces of string pulling in opposite directions by the very ends of my fingernails.

“It’s working, Lor,” Willow says, her body pressed to mine. “Don’t stop.”

I tremble as more and more magic bleeds from my fingertips, and I finally tear my gaze away from Tristan’s face and study the wound on his chest. It is working. The jagged edges of his shredded skin start to pull together like interlocking teeth. I’m crying. I don’t know if I’ve ever cried this hard. The day my parents died was the worst of my life, but I know it will pale in comparison if I lose Tristan now. I’d never be the same.

“You’re doing it,” Willow says. The room falls silent as everyone witnesses the red haze of magic that slides around Tristan until, a few minutes later, the wound is completely gone. When I’m sure every mark has been erased, I gasp and pull my hands away, stumbling back as the world tilts at an angle. A pair of strong arms catches me before I fall.

Nadir pulls me close, his hand cupping the back of my head as he whispers softly into my ear. “I knew you could do it.”

“Is he okay?” I ask. Nerissa and Amya are standing over my brother now.

“He’s breathing,” Nerissa says. I catch the firm set of her mouth. She’s trying to be brave, and it’s obvious that my brother has come to mean something to her. “And his heartbeat is stronger.”

I let out a breath of relief, clinging to Nadir as I sob against his chest.

“Let’s move him somewhere more comfortable,” Mael says to Nadir, and he pulls away to help carry Tristan up the stairs. They maneuver him into his bed, and Amya and Nerissa deal with the rags of his ruined tunic.

I bring over a basin of water with a cloth and sit on the edge of the bed to wipe the blood and soot from his face as he sleeps. His color is already returning, and I can’t believe I actually saved him. The magic in my heart stirs, still with that muted energy, but it’s there, and I get the strangest sense that it’s proud of me.

I need to free myself from this cage. I could help so many with this.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I say to no one in particular. I just need someone to reassure me that my brother is going to be fine.

“Yes. Thanks to you, he will,” Willow says softly as she comes to sit next to me, and my gaze flicks to Nadir. I hope he can see the gratitude in my expression for his help. For the way he believed in me again.

He approaches and rubs a hand down the back of my head. “I’m going to go find out what happened out there,” he says. “And maybe the rest of you can get some food for all of us?”

Everyone around the room nods before they disperse, and Nadir plants a kiss on top of my head. I’m so grateful he’s here to take charge when I feel like I’m crumbling to pieces.