Page 17 of Shadows in Bloom

“From the moment you were born, you belonged to all of us, just as my life belonged to you.” She gripped the edge of her mattress, leaning forward. “I do not trust anyone else to protect you, and I do not care if they find me unpleasant. I will use them to help us reach our goals, and if I find that they are no longer useful, we will move on.”

Angry tears were welling in my eyes, but I couldn’t stand to let them fall in front of her. I forced them back, my throat tight and hot. “When did you start to hate me so much? Did you always feel this way? Since we were children?”

Kallistra’s face softened for only a beat. “I do not hate you, Nairu.”

“Then please try. Please.” I lowered my head. “For the first time, I am excited about something. I want to learn how to use my magic. I want to be useful. Please.”

I didn’t add that it was the first time I felt like I had people around me who could become friends. People who were capable of looking at me without fear or disgust, or the complete opposite—like in my village—with reverence. People who looked at me and saw me. Only me. I didn’t add that—because I feared she would want nothing more than to take that away from me. It had always been just the two of us. Nairu and Kallistra. The Saintess and her Keeper.

“I do not hate you, Nairu,” she repeated. It was the only reply she offered before snuffing out our lantern and crawling into her bed.

Chapter 8

There was an awkwardness at breakfast that made the air heavy and the sounds of chewing and dishes clanking far too loud. The early hour did not help with the uncomfortable silence between our group. There were too few patrons awake after a night of drinking to fill the inn with enough background chatter to make a difference.

I hurriedly finished my meal and excused myself, and much to my surprise, was met with no argument from Kallistra. I would wait for Alandris alone, outside in the fresh air. Though a bit chilly, anything was better than the suffocating inn. And Alandris must have felt the same, as it wasn’t long before he joined me.

He closed his eyes, sighing out, and he leaned his head back. “That was enjoyable, no?”

“Did something happen?” I chewed on my bottom lip. “I expected Kallista and Kaz to avoid each other after last night, but you and Zorinna seem off as well.”

It was dangerous—bringing such a thing up—but I wanted to discern if he would tell me anything more about their discussion. Had the two of them met later to further discuss Kallistra and me? Had something else happened?

He opened his eyes, narrowing them down on me, and for a moment, I thought he may have spotted me last night. “You are rather attentive.”

“I spend a lot of time… observing. In the background.”

For a moment, a sadness settled in his eyes and a frown crept up on his lips, but just as quickly as it had come, it disappeared again, replaced with an unreadable smile. “Let’s not talk here. We have a lesson to get to.”

I followed behind him to the forest clearing with my thoughts jumbled. Aside from not knowing what he wished to ask me today, his behavior was oddly defeated. In the short time I’d known him, he was always the one lightening the mood and bringing a positive energy to the room. He’d somehow managed to bring our misfit group together with only his words. And it was only for a moment, but I’d questioned if Kallistra was right not to trust him. All of his charm and positivity and perfectly curated words. I wondered if it was all a facade. Who was Alandris?

He stopped in the middle of the clearing and turned to face me. “Lesson first.”

I wanted to tell him no, that I needed to understand what was wrong first, but I couldn’t muster the courage. The words stuck in my throat like thick molasses, refusing to surface. I could only manage to nod in agreement.

“I was up early this morning looking through a few texts I brought with me. I took notes on a Mage who was able to manipulate light,” he explained. “I believe your magic will behave similarly. I’m sorry I still can’t discern exactly why it’s hurting you to tap into it, so I’ll need to help you again today.”

“No. Thank you. I appreciate what you’ve been doing to help me.” I darted my eyes away from his. “But you don’t have to, you know… really.”

Alandris stepped toward me. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

His tone was so serious it was startling. There was a hint of annoyance there, but I gleaned it was not intended for me. No, when I looked up at him, his face was kind. Genuine.

“Now, then.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we try the bird again? This time, let’s see if you can control its movement. Perhaps we can test the distance as well.”

Alandris put a hand on my exposed shoulder, and I could feel his magic begin to flow through me, balancing the volatility of my own, brimming just beneath the surface. Somehow, this touch felt distant compared to having our fingers interlocked. It was just a little nuance that proved something was off with him today, and I would have no choice but to ignore it… for now.

I allowed my magic to release and move freely through my body, one drop at a time, as I pictured the bird in my mind. Each time it threatened to overtake me, Alandris’ own magic pushed back against it, forcing it down to a manageable level. I looked back at him often, to ensure those black tendrils weren’t creeping up his hand. Each time, he shook his head at me, silently warning me to focus.

“Ah, finally!” I exclaimed as the form of the bird began to materialize before us, a mass of shadows, just as large as my last successful conjuration.

“Now, see if you can command the bird to perch on that tree just ahead.”

I focused my thoughts on the goal, willing my magic to listen, but the bird seemed to have a mind of its own. “It’s not working.” I pouted. “I’ve never had a knack for animals.”

“I think you will find that considering it an animal is the problem. It’s not a bird, it is the culmination of your own power, so you need to consider it a piece of you.” He tilted his head and snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Stop conjuring a bird. Make it something else. Anything else.”

“Uh… okay.”

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