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Teryn’s breaths grew shallow, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
She lifted her head and met his eyes with a mournful expression. “Being forced to rest your ethera isn’t the only thing that deteriorates your body. The mere act of being split like this will slowly wreak havoc upon your inner functions, day by day. There are only two things that can happen. Either Morkai succeeds and makes the takeover complete, or you reclaim your body and force Morkai out. Otherwise…you’ll die.”
His eyes went wide as dread sank every inch of his incorporeal form. He sagged against the doorframe once more. “Why didn’t you tell me this from the start?”
“If I’d told you early on,” she said, “you’d have succumbed to your fear. Fear and panic are what detach you from your vitale. Detaching from your vitale harms your bodily functions and prevents you from connecting to your cereba. You must keep that connection strong. Regardless of what you think I should have told you, it doesn’t change what must be done. You have one choice. One course of action.”
“Reclaim my body. Break the crystal.” The words came out flat. Even more hollow than they normally sounded on the spiritual plane.
“You focus on the former. I’ll work on solving the latter.”
He gave her a pointed look. “You mean the memory you can’t clearly see? And the vision that keeps telling you to stay the course?”
“It’s the best we have.” She gestured toward his sleeping body, dozing upon the bed. “Now is your chance to practice your side of the plan, Highness.”
Fueled with a stronger sense of determination—if not a deeper sense of dread too—he made his way toward the bed. He reached the side and glanced down at his sleeping form. A sick feeling coursed through him as he noticed the hollows of his cheeks, the bags under his eyes. And…was that a wisp of silver at his temple? Teryn leaned forward to get a better look at the strand. It was mostly hidden beneath his dark waves, but it was there. It reminded him too much of King Dimetreus’ hair, a silver-streaked brown that belied the king’s true age of nine-and-twenty.
Whether he had himself to blame for overexerting his ethera or if these physical signs of bodily strain would have begun to show regardless, he knew not. Either way, Emylia was right; his body was deteriorating.
He shifted his gaze to her. “How do you know so much? About Morkai? His plans? About what’s happening to my body?”
She gave him a sad smile. “I’ve been here for a long time. I’ve seen much of what Morkai does, and you aren’t the first soul I’ve encountered inside this crystal. You ask me why I kept the secrets I kept? Because I’ve seen this all before. Again and again. I’ve witnessed the dangers of knowing you’re running out of time. The madness that ensues. The futility that follows.”
He shuddered. “Has Morkai ever succeeded at fully possessing another body?” If so, then the body he knew as Morkai might not even be his original one.
“No,” she said.
Teryn was relieved at that. Yet, as he settled into his body’s frame, he realized something; just because Morkai hadn’t ever successfully transferred his soul to another body didn’t mean the previous souls had survived. More concerning than that was the question of why the sorcerer had ever considered possessing another body when he’d had his own. Before his death, he wouldn’t have had any need for a new body. Had he trapped other souls simply as a precaution?
Or was there more Emylia had left unsaid?
37
Cora left Teryn’s door, her heart heavy with disappointment. Where was he? This was the second time she’d come to find him that day. A servant had insisted she’d seen him enter his room not long ago, but he hadn’t answered when she’d called, just like the first time. He couldn’t have been with the physician, for she’d gathered enough intel to learn that his wound had already been tended and hadn’t been too deep in the first place. Even so, he may have been given something for the pain after his cut was treated. He could be sleeping. When she’d extended her senses, she’d feltsomethingthat suggested he was inside, but it was nowhere near as strong of an emotional impression as she normally received. But if he was sleeping, was he going to do so until morning? They didn’t have time for that.
Cora was all too aware of the ticking clock.
She’d spent the previous hour talking with the council. Or being talkedat, to be more accurate. No matter how she’d tried to argue in her brother’s defense, the truth was that she and Dimetreus had already agreed to give Dimetreus’ council the final say on the king’s abdication. These terms had been necessary to forge the alliance with Verdian and would be written into the upcoming peace pact. Cora knew Verdian would refuse to sign it if she tried to go back on her word, and there was no talking the council out of their decision. Especially since the king had wholeheartedly agreed.
All that was left was for Cora to marry Teryn.
But she couldn’t do that until they had a chance to talk. She couldn’t enter their marriage with the secret of her curse.
She wandered through the halls of the keep, unsure where she intended to go. Returning to work in the tower would be too dangerous in her current state of mind; she knew she couldn’t focus on clearing with her head so full of this newest burden. But as she passed the wing that led to her room, she found herself unwilling to turn. No, she couldn’t sit idly in her bedroom either. She glanced out one of the windows in the hall and caught a glimpse of the early evening sun. There was still plenty of light left in the day. Perhaps she could sneak out after all…
She turned down a corridor that led to a portion of the keep that had yet to be refurbished, her mind set on entering the servants’ passage—
She pulled up short as a figure, hunched at the base of the far wall, came into view. At first, she saw only a curtain of silver hair draped over dark blue silk, but as she took a step back, the woman’s face lifted from her hands, revealing Queen Mareleau’s tear-filled eyes. Startled, Mareleau bolted upright and pushed to her feet, swiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands.
Sorrow surged against Cora’s shields, and she was too fatigued to block it. It swept over her, sinking her heart. Or perhaps it simply rested alongside a heart already sunk. Cora could tell Mareleau was embarrassed at being caught crying, so she dipped into a curtsy and turned to leave.
“I’m pregnant,” Mareleau said to Cora’s back.
Cora turned back around. “Oh?”
“My moon cycle is overdue. I’d lost track during my travels, but that and the emotions I’ve been having, not to mention the—” With a grimace, she put a palm to her stomach. “The nausea. I…I think you were right. I’m pregnant.”
Cora frowned. Her voice sounded so empty. So resigned. “Did you not know, Majesty? I thought it was merely a well-kept secret, not something you were unaware of.”
