Page 75 of Terragnata and the Heir of the Earth

“The portal may not come. And if it does, it most often will sputter. If you’ve just released a large swell of Witch-power, that will likely be the case. However, it’s an important limit to know—if you’re drained. More than once, I’ve seen a Witch lost to the in-between, even though her portal didn’t clearly sputter.”

The ocean wind lashed at Sabnae’s robes with a vengeance, and he revealed a crooked smile. “I happen to know you’ve not been training with your Earth powers, given you’ll not be permitted to use them in the Skøl.”

“Right, I’m notdrainednow, per-say, I’m just having trouble visuali?—”

Sabnae portaled. Leaving me stranded at least a mile from the palace.

“You’ve got to bekiddingme,” I swore, nearly sobbing in frustration.

It took me hours, and I had to portal from rock to rock to return, an excruciatingly slow process. But that experience finally settled the lesson in me. While I could still portal only a quarter mile, and I had to either be able to see or have previously seen my destination, it was a useful distance.

I spent the evenings in banquets, a different dress each night, a different slow torture. Tensions ran high between the Rexi and me—she had not summoned me again after that first time. During the dinners, she spoke in riddles and harped to the table about the importance of my Siphon—or ignored me entirely. When I was unlucky enough to receive her direct address, shespoke of our return to Nebbiolo. How she would show me our queendom, how I would know our people. I wondered if she planned to kill me on our way there, maybe dump my body into the Dusked Sea. Maybe she would wait, letting me see the land of my birth first. I began to see her lack of motherly attachment, her deep desire to be rid of me. She never asked of my years in Argention, or Valfalla for that matter. She had been clear in her words to Jana—I posed a threat to her and the Nebbiolo people. I could imagine that the threat she considered me at age twelve had only amplified with time.

The king droned on about how I should train in shifting, which sent the Rexi into a fit of silent rage every time, as she believed Witches were above it. He rambled about the bride I would make, about the luster of our wedding, about the heirs we would have. Formidable warriors.Nowarrior boy would match that of the blood of my sire, the great warrior Viturius, and the great King Darlan. His words curdled in my stomach for more reasons than one.

Of course, I told Cas nothing of my conversation with the king, nor the Rexi, for they had both made their threats plain. I thought again about freeing Gia and Jana, but the risks were more than I wanted to take. So, I continued to train for a battle I would eventually lose. I had answered Cas’s guards’ questions after the incident, reciting what the king had dictated to me. They weren’t Fae, I said. Shaved heads, swirling tattoos on their faces. Asked me about the king, the prince, and the Rexi. Cas’s guards seemed to know who my account implicated and left me alone after that. And of course, Cas shared nothing with me.

We hadn’t been intimate again after that first time, which I came to realize was a product of the day’s intensity and triggering circumstance. Cas was shaped by my loss when we were children, and I think he needed me then to reassure himself I hadn’t gone away again. He never returned to my bedroom,which to my surprise did hurt a little, but was just as well. My dreams of Ezren hadn’t subsided, and Ihadtaken to using Olea’s gift in the mornings, recalling our coupling. It stuck in my mind like honey on the fingertips—when I closed my eyes and pleasured myself, it was all I could see. I tried to think of other things, fabled princes of stories long forgotten, but if I wanted the release, I needed Ezren’s image, green eyes and a golden muscled body. Dark auburn hair, in tendrils, framing his beautifully harsh face, decorated with male scruff. And when I thought of him, my scale turned to scalding hot ice, sending a tremor through my body, as if it knew where my pleasure came from. Afterwards I would lie in bed and hold in tears, for Ezren wasexactlywhat I needed and exactly… wasn’t.

After just short of two weeks of training, the king announced the date of the Skøl. He made the proclamation at a banquet one night, without informing any of us ahead of time. It would be in ten days’ time, he said. He also announced that the next night would be a grand celebration, for the day marked an important milestone.

“What is he talking about?” Cas muttered, and then reddened once the king said the ball would be in my honor, for tomorrow I’d enter my twenty-first year. A special gala to not only celebrate my twentieth birthday but also my return home, which represented a deliberate blow to the Drakkarian campaign against Viribrum. I rolled my eyes, wondering how much of it was celebration, and how much was politics.

The next day, I finished my training early, per Gia and Olea’s requests. They awaited me in my chambers, both dressed for the event, still hours away.

I walked in, already exasperated by what I knew would be extreme fussing over my birthday look. It surprised me to find no myriad of gowns strewn around the room, no trove of jewels opened up and on glittering display—only a steaming tub andtwo giggling females. I narrowed my eyes at them. They just gestured to the water.

“I don’t know if I like the two of you teamed up,” I grumbled, lowering myself into the bath. Gia smacked my head lovingly and said, “Oh Terra, when are you going to learn to trust someone?”

Her tone was light, but the words hung on me as they combed through my sweaty braids and scrubbed the dirt from beneath my nails.

They dried me with a thick cloth and wrapped me in a robe. I sat in front of the open window, the sea breeze blowing through my hair while they applied shadows and pigments to my eyelids, cheeks, and lashes. I fought the urge to fidget, nervous about what the night had in store, but when I asked, Gia only tsked at me to stay still.

After they finished and my hair dried, they worked together to braid it, pulling it wide, leaving strategic pieces out to frame my face. It had grown so long it neared my rear when unbound. They said the result was regal, and after looking at their intricate work in the mirror, I couldn’t disagree with them.

“Alright, what terrifying dress will you two be putting me in tonight?” I asked. They giggled. “Oh, my dear Terra, tonight you will be dressing yourself,” Gia purred.

I cocked my head in confusion, just when someone knocked at the door. Olea admitted four guards, each carrying the corner of a large pallet covered in dirt.

“The other day you coaxed a full rose bed out of a barren, dried garden patch. It got me thinking. I wondered what you could do with fertile soil.” Gia winked at me.

“And ye’ll have thes, te’ help ye,” Olea added, retrieving the golden crown from the chest. I hadn’t worn it again since that first night in court.

The servants set the pallet in the middle of the room and left. My brows furrowed together. “You two just spent an hour removing every spec of dirt from my body, and now you want me to roll around in soil to make a dress?”

Olea clucked her tongue at me. “Ets jest a hunch, Terra, ye see? We thenk et’ll be, err, different.”

“Humor us, will you?” Gia batted her eyes.

And so I did. I let my feet sink into the silky soil, remembering the luxurious feeling of connecting with the Earth. Gia removed my robe, leaving me bare, and Olea set the golden band on the crown of my head. The power of it thrummed against my skull, but this time it only stirred, rather than exploding in action. I reached out to the energy from where I stood, calling the Earth in a language that was ours, and ours alone. It sang back to me, whispering my full name. I tented my fingers by my sides, and the dirt rose from the pallet, floating mid-air, drawn to my fingertips. Instead of giving it a thread of a picture, an intention to follow, I tried something different. I spoke a spell, a simple cantrip that would dress someone. “Sero-ores,” I commanded to the Earth and crown.

As I spoke the words, a piercing light burst from the Dragon scale on my hipbone, not hot to the touch, but blinding. It hung in the air for a few seconds, and we all cried out—Gia and Olea for the brightness, me for the surprise force on my leg. And then it was gone, as was the dirt I stood upon. I blinked my eyes open, searching Gia and Olea for injury. They only stared back at me, mouths ajar.

“What is it?” I demanded, panicking at their expression.

“Terra, you’re going to have to see this,” Gia whispered, taking my hand, gently leading me to the mirror.

I gaped. I wore a dress of layered emerald chiffon, a color that reminded me of Ezren’s eyes. A jewel-toned sash just above my belly button belted a deep V neckline. Long billowysleeves synched at my wrists with golden engraved cuffs. The skirts gathered all around me, different shades of green blending together in a fluid way that changed with the air or movement—the hues ebbed and flowed upon the fabric, clearly a product of magic. And of course, small colored buds clustered on my waist, spreading out from there and thinning in quantity as they did so. The gold crown was no longer a simple band—it remained, but also bled into my braids, weaving tendrils of gold through my hair. My eyes, normally an earthy color, shined an even brighter green, more illuminated than Ezren’s—so bright I guessed one could see them in the dark. And if all of that wasn’t enough, the real change came from my skin. It glowed, a soft warm hue of light, shimmering like diamonds reflecting the sun’s rays. The effect was not just breathtaking; it wasotherworldly. I looked no longer even Fae—more like one of the old gods.

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