Page 84 of The Edge of Darkness

“But you could?”

“Yes.”

I paced the space, thinking, wondering, processing. “I didn’t even feel anything when you emulated my light.”

“No one ever does. I’m not actually drawing from your power. I’m using my own, just manipulating it into the form I perceive it to be. I can sense power without ever having to see it in physical form.”

That explained how she knew of all our powers simply by being in our presence. I couldn’t decide if the fact was more intriguing or alarming.

Her voice lowered as she said, “That is how I was able to give Silas his summons from Torin after our mother passed away.”

I lifted my eyes to her.

“You do know he’s my brother, don’t you?”

“Yes. But that is all I know.”

She sighed, as if she wasn’t fond of explaining their story. “We shared the womb together. I was born first. Then, mother caught a fever that not even the most skilled of our witches could cure. When she passed, Silas and I both feared what would become of him, since Dionachs who lose their wardeness before they receive their summons are cast out. Thankfully, he avoided such a fate when I discovered I could bridge the pathway to Torin the way my mother did, using my emulation. All witches can communicate with Torin, but once one gives birth to a Dionach, they gain access to a different wavelength. That is what makes them a wardeness. With my mother’s blood in my veins, I could channel the same pathway she would have if she were still alive. I’m the first witch to have ever done it without having given birth to the Dionach myself. If it weren’t for my power, Silas would have been cast out.”

“And I would have never received my Dionach. So, in a way, your power saved us both.”

She regarded me for a long moment, realizing the gravity of her abilities and actions. “I guess it did.”

“What I still don’t understand though, is why Torin doesn’t just give the messages to the Dionachs herself? I mean, why go to the trouble of having someone else involved?”

“In our culture, Dionachs are considered the lowest in our hierarchy. They are subservient beings who carry out the will of the gods and the fates. ‘A means to and end’—if you will. From what I know, the gods of Skotos were quite fond of holding a strict pecking order. Torin prefers to commune with a mediator who is continuously in tune with her, and she is not always easy to please. That is why I try to limit my personal interactions with her.”

“Oh. That explains your pushback in the garden.”

Nivelle shifted on her feet. “Precisely. And speaking of that incident . . . That reckless male—the one who accompanied you to the isles . . .”

“Roirdan?”

“Yes. The one who summons the bolts of a storm.” There was a bitterness and also a hint of intrigue in her voice that I couldn’t quite figure out.

“Lightning,” I confirmed.

“Lightning,” she echoed, letting the word marinate on her tongue, like it was the first time she’d heard of it.

Perhaps it was.

“What about him?” I asked, drawing her out from wherever her thoughts had drifted off to.

“He doesn’t . . . dwell here . . . does he?”

I couldn’t hide the twitch in the corner of my mouth. “Why?”

“I just . . . I haven’t seen him.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying not to smirk. “This is your first time out of your chambers. You haven’t really seen anyone,” I pointed out.

She pushed a quick breath out of her nose, suddenly seeming flustered. Then, her head tilted to the side, as if she sensed something I wasn’t privy to. She lifted her hand, and fire ignited in her palm—a blaze of green and white.

I whipped my head around just as Maeson stepped through the doors and halted at the top of the steps, staring down at Nivelle and me, and what the witch held in her palm.

A gasp sounded behind me, and I turned back to see the witch’s hand, now flickering in and out of existence like a mirage. “Fascinating,” she whispered, practically beaming at the strange ability.

Aremis’s ability.