Page 46 of Shadows in Bloom

“You’d considered this?” The anger bubbling beneath the surface had simmered into nothing. His delicate touch had left me pliable.

“I am greedy. I do not wish to give you up in ten years, a hundred years, or a thousand years. I do not wish to give you up ever.”

I drew back. “Surely that will have a steep cost.”

“It likely will, but it is not unheard of. There are many mortals who seek out Fae magic to grant them immortality. I will pay it, whatever the cost.” He brushed his thumb along my cheek. “We may be going on an additional grand adventure to find her another flower she’s fond of.”

“It might be fun.” I laughed.

The tangent my mind had chased in our discussion of immortality had thrown me off track. I’d almost forgotten the purpose of this conversation with Alandris. The nightmare.

“There is something else. The reason I asked you about immortality…” I stepped back from him. I was not in a position to be distracted again with our time so limited. “I’ve been having vivid dreams for some time now. They started before we met, when I first began my pilgrimage. I am in them, and that… thing. The voice I heard during our training, and again in the forest outside of Esvilde. It speaks to me, sometimes in my head, as it has here, but other times, it speaks through me. I have looked into mirrors in these dreams and found a reflection there that is not myself. Not any version of myself I have ever known. It is wrong… corrupted.”

Alandris listened intently, nodding his head.

“Sometimes, in these dreams, there are others,” I continued. “Women who are perhaps my friends—I am uncertain. I wrote down all of their names, but I don’t recognize them at all. The most recent one, her name was Kyra. We were traveling to meet a priestess at my God’s temple.”

“Your God has temples? I am surprised to hear that. Minor, unnamed gods don’t typically have formal temples.”

“Kallistra and I never managed to find one. Our people are nomadic by nature, so we don’t settle into one place. We move every few years to a new area, though we always remain in the North. But in this dream, there was a temple somewhere in the South, maintained by a priestess named Nissia.”

“Were you familiar with her?”

I shook my head. “She wanted me to look into my reflection, but I fought it. That is when she told me I was rejecting my fate, betraying my God. She… stabbed me in the back. She said I was replaceable.”

His eyes drifted behind me, prompting me to show him my back. “Do you…?”

“I have no scars, but it felt real. Is there some possibility it could be?”

Alandris took a deep breath. “The caliber of healer it would take to not only save your life, but to heal you to the extent that you would bear no scarring, would be otherworldly.” Alandris ran his thumb along his jaw. “In all of my years at the Mages Consortium, I have never met a Mage who could heal at that level. Healing magic is incredibly rare, as is. Very few Mages possess the power at all, and those who do are so sought after they often work under Lords, or even Kings, for fees beyond anything a normal traveler could ever afford.

“As you’ve said, you remember growing up with Kallistra, and you’ve been traveling on your pilgrimage for three years. Unless you were separated during this time and lost the memories of what occurred during that separation, I don’t think it is possible for these dreams to be real. Besides, for that to be the case, Kallistra would have to be an immortal as well.” Alandris placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nairu. I know you want to find answers, but I don’t believe your dreams will havethem. I believe they may just be a result of the need to find said answers.”

I’d expected such a rational answer from the ever logical Alandris, and in a way, I’d needed to hear it. If I had the ability to generate one hundred theories about my identity and purpose, and he had the ability to discard ninety-nine of them, we would ultimately discover the one that matched.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t resist the intuition that my dreams held a deeper significance, and our time was rapidly dwindling. There was only one action I knew we were capable of taking to expedite the process, regardless of its potential danger.

“Tell Lyandril you will kill me,” I said.

Alandris furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Write to Lyandril and tell him you will kill me. Tell him you need more information before you can act. Tell him I’m dangerous and my magic has become increasingly powerful.” I spoke swiftly, my words riddled with anxiety.

“Nairu.” His voice took on a dark tone, and I knew he was less than pleased with my idea. “If I do that, there is the possibility he may insist on coming here to handle you himself. Even if I do not reply to tell him where we are—he will hunt you. He is the Grand Arch Magus. He will find us, and I don’t know if I can stop him if he does.”

I bit my lip. “There is also the possibility he will not bother—that he will trust you to take care of it yourself. You are to be his Arch Magus, are you not?”

“I am not doing this.” Alandris turned away from me. “Do not ask this of me. Not this.”

My hand reached out to grab his cloak, and I moved up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist as I pressed my forehead to his back. “Please, Alandris.”

He brought his hand up to his stomach to interlace our fingers, though he would not turn to look at me. “We will find another way.”

Before I had the opportunity to present any further arguments, Alandris escaped my hold and resumed walking toward our camp.

Chapter 23

Alandris and I had not spoken more than a few words since he’d refused to ask Lyandril for more information about me, for fear of putting my life at risk. And while I’d long since forgiven him after pouting about it over dinner the prior night—I’d understood his heart was in the right place—I’d made no moves to make him aware that I was no longer upset. Him being under the impression I was angry with him was better for what I now intended to do. After all was done, I would be the one owing him an apology…

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