Page 97 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

“Push back, Eleanor, control the flow.”

But I can’t even think straight. The memories that aren’t my own fill my mind—more history than any human brain can possibly hold. I clutch my head, unable to stop them pouring in.

“It hurts. It hurts,” I groan.

The next thing I know, there’s a pair of hands on me, warm and familiar. They anchor me, offering me an inch of distance between my mind and the information overwhelming it. The hands enclose my forearms, pulling me into a tight embrace. A voice, soft but firm, murmurs in my ears, sounding closer with every word.

“Listen to me, Ella. Listen to my voice. You can do this. You are safe, you are in control.”

“I can’t,” I manage to croak. “I can’t stop them.”

“You opened yourself up to them, now protect your mind. Focus on me, build the wall back up. I’ll count you through it.”

I try to imagine a wall—slabs of stone stacked on top of each other, a dam against the flood.

“One,” he says, and I create a row of slabs in my mind, forcing the flow of memories to slow a fraction.

“Two,” he says, and I add another layer. The stream of memories slackens a little more.

On he keeps counting, guiding me through it, until the wall is high enough that the torrent slows to a trickle.

My magic relaxes, the memories brought to heel at last, and I break my connection, withdrawing from the augium that had me in a chokehold minutes before.

When I open my eyes I grab hold of Ruskin’s arms for comfort, taking a few shaky breaths.

“For a minute there, I thought…” I shake my head. “I went too deep. I wasn’t ready.”

“You fought off something unexpected and won,” Ruskin says. “That seems pretty ready to me.”

Ruskin helps me slowly to my feet.

“And you communed with mountains, my girl,” says Maidar, whose gravelly voice actually manages to sound pleased. “You overcame the distance.”

I look out over the peaks, the vastness of them making me shudder.

“But I nearly failed—so badly I don’t know what might’ve happened. How can that be progress?”

“‘Nearly’ is the operative word,” Maidar grunts. “If nothing else, your magic has stretched itself to new limits. You’ll find yourself capable of a marathon rather than just a sprint now.”

I nod, realizing they’re right. The fear of the moment still lingers in my muscles, but I found my way out of it—with some help. As Maidar starts making his way down the trail again, mumbling to himself about writing up some fresh notes, I stroke my fingers across the back of Ruskin’s hand.

“Thank you for helping me,” I say.

He fixes me with a look that sends my skin tingling.

“Always, Ella.”

We follow Maidar down the mountainside, deciding I deserve a break after the morning’s lesson. Thankfully, the descent is easier than the way up, and I even start to enjoy the view rather than seeing it as a reminder of my failure. The entirety of Unseelie is laid out below us—you can see almost all the way to the borderlands from here.

Maidar shifts to one side as a group of fae arrive in the other direction along the mountain pass. But instead of just moving by us, they stop. I step sideways to get a better look at what’s going on and my muscles tighten, my body waking up to the danger in front of us. I recognize the fae. It’s the long-haired Kasgill and his friends—the woman with antlers and the redhead whose shoulder I managed to stab when we met on the road.

Kasgill smiles at us.

“I was so hoping we’d meet again.”

But this encounter is no accident. I can’t imagine how they knew where we’d be, but I can see they’ve come prepared. The antlered woman and redhead both carry heavy wooden clubs—a sensible choice if you’re coming to fight someone you know can manipulate metal. Kasgill seems less concerned about me. He’s carrying a sword, and I wonder if he sees me at all, his hate-filled eyes fixed on Ruskin.

No one moves for a moment. Each side waiting for the other to make a move.

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