Page 113 of What Blooms from Death

The cold calculations continued behind his eyes, but deep in their golden depths there was a hint of the boy who had comforted me all those years ago. He was still in there, despite how fiercely everything seemed to be trying to rip us apart.

He tilted his head, studying me, and the world seemed to tilt with it as he said, “And I will fight with her.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Aleksander

“The airin this place makes me want to peel my skin off,” Zayn muttered.

“That seems like a rather dramatic solution,” I replied, offhandedly, as I concentrated on directing a current of magic into the cracks of the wall running around the perimeter of the palace’s northern yard. Ivy covered this wall, dotted with withered white flowers. As my light sank deeper into the cracks and pulsed through the stone, the wall shimmered with golden energy, bringing those white blooms to life, doubling their size and making them glow around the edges.

Zayn stretched out on top of the low wall, like a cat sunning himself, as he continued to lament our situation.

I didn’t respond to anything he said—but I didn’t disagree with his sentiments, either.

It had now been five days since our arrival to Rivenholt Palace, and the protective magic here—meant to deter Lorien Blackvale and all who served him—remained oppressive, no matter how much practice our lungs had at breathing it in. Our bones seemed to creak under its weight, as if the very air wasworking against us, sinking into our muscles and dragging us down.

We’d spent the past several mornings practicing to better acclimate our magic; hours of trying to manage even the simplest of spells. It was uncomfortable to work within the suffocating conditions, but the alternative—not being able to summon any useful magic in what was essentially an enemy court—was far worse.

“At least Rowen and Farren seem to be enjoying themselves,” Zayn said. He’d rolled onto his side and was looking toward the edge of the yard, to where our two loyal soldiers were reclining on a grassy knoll. They looked perfectly relaxed, even in spite of the intimidating palace rising behind them with its glistening dark spires gleaming like the teeth of dragons. Farren even appeared to be fully absorbed in reading a book.

“Let them,” I mumbled, my focus quickly returning to my magic. I pulled a knife from my belt and started to push Light energy into the blade, then used it to trace patterns in the air. It was an old method of practicing concentration—one of the most basic tricks I’d mastered as a child. “It’s been too long since we’ve relaxed in a proper palace, hasn’t it?”

Zayn rocked up into a sitting position. “…I’m still having a hard time believing thisisa proper palace. I ventured into Tarnath—their royal city—yesterday evening, you know, and people were truly going about their business as if it was any city in the Above. It’s very strange; it almost feels like we’re back home, until you remember the dead things pressing in along the edges of it all.”

“Not truly dead,” I reminded him.

“Close enough.”

“For now, anyway.”

He averted his eyes, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers against the thorny vine tattoo encircling his right bicep, clearlydebating whether or not this was worth arguing about. He typically chose to let things go—arguing got in the way of having a good time, as he frequently reminded me. This time, however, his brow remained furrowed with concern.

I fixed my gaze on his, questioning.

“…There’s the small matter of two worlds, unable to exist at the same time,” he said.

“Unless we find a way to balance them both.”

Another hesitation. Then, “Let’s assume wedon’tfind a way to do that…what then?”

I traced my thumb along my knife, injecting more energy into the blade. The air crackled with it—enough to make my skin tingle and the hairs on my arms stand on end, even with the suffocating air closing in around it.

“If it comes down to our world or theirs, who do you think she’s going to choose?” Zayn pressed.

“She won’t choose between them. She’s already stated as much.”

“I’m afraid they’ll force her to,” he said. “She’s as outnumbered as we are, truthfully. They have their plan in their minds already—they’ve had it foryears, and I doubt she’ll sway them from it, ultimately. Have you seen the way they look at her? They want to make her into their little puppet.”

I bristled at the thought, and the magic surrounding me sizzled. It had crossed my mind several times since we started uncovering truths in this palace, and it was why I’d taken Nova’s side while we’d stood in the shadows of Luminor and Grimnor. Why I had vowed to fight alongside her instead of against her. Why I hadn’t tried to steal the Sword of Light and make a run for it, yet—even though the idea was tempting.

True, it had partly been self-preservation.

But there was more to it than that.

I didn’t trust this brother of hers—or any of the ones who answered to him—to not betray her. And the thought of her fending for herself against them…

“They won’t make her into anything without her consent,” I told Zayn.

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