Page 68 of Anchor

I told her.

I talked about the elves and the orcs, about the buildings and the never-ending night, about Vuvu and even Refiq. I told her about the dragons, too, and the cloud that had made it hail, how that dragonfire had almost reached me before I jumped. I left out the bad things, the threats and the deaths and myalmost-end,too, of course. But the rest, I told her. And she found it awfully exciting.

“But then how did you do it?” she wondered. “How did you do the necromancy spell when you were Mud?”

“I—”wasn’t,I started to say, but couldn’t.

I just couldn’t spit out that lie one more time. Not only because she obviously hadn’t believed me the first ten times I told her, but simplybecause I didn’t want to.

“A friend helped me.”Taland.My Taland. The man I breathed for. The man I would die for. Worse—the man I’d kill for without hesitation.

He’dhelped me. He was the reason I was still alive.

“Wow,” whispered Taylor before she turned to the moon again, half a smile on her lips, her eyes wide and bright as if she could see everything I just told her written in the stars tonight.

Maybe she just saw it in her head instead.

Goddess, she was beautiful, this kid. The moonlight that touched her profile made her look like a drawing just now. The satin silver robe I’d bought her that she wore over her pajamas tonight just added to the image of her—like a dream,I thought, just when she said, “I have nice dreams sometimes. Only sometimes.”

I smiled. “What kind of dreams?”

“Just…nice ones. Where I have a house. My own room. Lots of a sketch books and coloring books and colors. And I eat lots of chocolate—my tummy hurts in those dreams.” She threw me a look as if she just realized that she said that out loud, and she thought it was silly, so her cheeks flushed within the second.

I forced myself to laugh a little, hoping she missed the tears in my eyes. “My tummy hurts in plenty of dreams, too,” I assured her. Mostly from fear, but still. I knew the feeling.

She grinned just for a second, then composed herself, and I almost sawmeright there on her face. Almost.

A tear slipped from my eye, but I wiped it away casually.

“What else?” I asked, looking up at the sky again.

“Magic,” she said. “I have magic in those dreams. Ifeelit.”

“That’s…exciting.” Because what else could I say?

“It is,” Taylor said, and it occurred to me that this was the most she’d said in one sitting before. “It’s so cool—like I wave my hand and I whisper a spell and I make light when it’s dark in the woods.” And she waved her hand around dramatically.

Laughter came out of me from the surprise this time—she was usually very calm.And to shock me even more, she laughed, too. It was the first time I heard her laughing.

“It’s so pretty, the light,” she said, then turned to me. “Can you show me how you do it? And can you make it as big as my hand?”

It wasn’t even a question—of course I’d show her. “I think so. Let me try,” I said, and I brought my palm right under her fisted hand, and I chanted the spell to call for a ball of light exactly the size of her fist.

Pain shot down my arm lightning fast, but I was used to it now. I expected it, so I didn’t even flinch. To see the way her eyes lit up with the red flames that brought light to existence, then faded away, was worth it. Completely worth it.

Taylor laughed again. She brought her finger closer to the ball of light and tried to touch it, but it wasn’t concrete, the magic, so her finger went right through, which then made her laugh even more.

“Do you like it?” I asked, feeling more accomplished than I had in a very long time. Feeling…happyfor a second there, just to see the way her whole face brightened up.

“It’s amazing,” she said, a bit breathless, then started waving her hand again, whispering the spell I’d just called for the light, but she got two Iridian words wrong.

“It’s Perbohoui luxisara,” I corrected her, so she started again.

Waving her hand like Iridiansdid not do,she cleared her throat with a wicked grin on her face.

For the first time since I met her, she actually looked like a kid, and I wished with all my heart that she’d had magic, just for little while. I wished I could give her mine, all of it, just for a moment, so her happiness lasted.

Then she chanted the spell solemnly, “Perbo houi lexis ara.”

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