Page 86 of Unraveled
“Because back in Eponde, the day you almost exploded, you were scared. That’s when you lost control. Wasn’t it? You saw a shadow creature and your magic broke free. It would make sense it might when you’re angry as well. Or sad.” He beckons me forward with a wave of his hand, his brow wrinkling as he takes his coat from where it’s scrunched in my grip. “It’s possible your parents had the necklace crafted especially for you. A way to counteract the swing of intense emotions. The particular spell that’s binding your power could be of your own doing, as much as theirs, but your first goal should be to try to access and control your magic when you aren’t in control of your emotions.”
I take in a deep breath that smells like wet soil, moss, and rain. Thunder rolls over us, shaking the ground beneath my feet. “Would you help me?”
“To lose control of your emotions?” His voice comes out throaty. “Or are you asking me to help you learn to control your power?”
“Both?”
“Put the coat back on, and I’ll think about it.” He shakes the water off his hair and continues moving through the forest like he’s been here before. Perhaps he has. “Let’s find somewhere to rest before twilight. We have to meet Finley and Nera in the mountain’s crossroad, near Fairhope, in two days.”
Chapter 29
“I can’t keep going,”Ash grumbles from where he leans against a nearby tree. He slowly lets his body slide down its trunk until he sits between two large roots. Dragging a hand over his face, he stares up at the tree canopy as morning twilight falls upon us.
“I’m happy to rest for a little while,” I say, hoping my panic doesn’t show.
He scoffs in response, like I’ve done a poor job at finding us shelter before slumber takes ahold of him. “If anyone comes our way, and I meananyone, you run west until you hit Fairhope. Don’t look back.” He points vaguely over his shoulder in a direction I can’t quite make out through the fog. His eyes close as his breathing deepens.
A month ago, I would have run. But that was the Mia that thought Penumbra was her home. A human woman who loved her job and wanted to continue learning forbidden magic right under the head librarian’s nose.
Now, panic spreads in my chest as I urge time to pass quickly and for Ash to wake up. I’m decent at warding spells, which would be useful to protect us from the creatures of the forest.
I believe your magic is unlocked by strong emotions. Ash’s words circle in my mind.
I’m full of powerful emotions right now, and yet, I can’t seem to get my magic to work. Nor my amulet.
I close my eyes and focus on the noises in the darkness around us, the memory of the shadow creature in Ash’s reflection, and I hold on to the fear that unravels through my veins. My power brews in my stomach, and it doesn’t take long for it to tingle in my fingertips. I spend a few minutes grasping at fading threads of magic, and it feels like an eternity before I can finally weave a warding spell and pull it tight to keep us safe.
Ash was right. My hairpin did nothing to aid me, and in the end, I’m able to channel enough magic to erect a ward by using the panic rushing through me.
Thirty minutes later, Ash quietly studies the golden shield around us. He doesn’t say much, but I see a flash of pride in his features right before I let the spell collapse. I’m tired, hungry—cold—but we continue traveling under the trees by foot until midday.
When the storm finally clears over us, we fly the rest of the way to the Crossroads. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t a small abandoned town that reminds me of Eponde. Tucked into the shelter of the forest, it’s a long strip of boarded-up shops and statues frozen throughout. Tree roots have come through the paving stones of what was previously a plaza. If I close my eyes, I can imagine it in its full glory, but dread snakes under my clothes and crawls over my skin.
Dark magic.
Mist covers the ground as we walk in silence through a metal gate and into a small building that seems to have been a magical market. It’s a structure of gray stone and dark wood with clay shingles covering the high-pitched roof. A sign hangs crookedly over the door, the paint so worn I can’t read its name. We passtables tipped on their side, partially hidden by tall, dry grass. Like the castle, wilderness has taken this place.
“Was this a fae town?”
Ash nods and leads me behind the fallen market, down a narrow path, and to a modest house in the back. It’s fully encased in evergreen walls, but it feels less haunted than the rest of the village. Without a word, he runs up a set of five long steps to the entrance. The front door is chipped with age, and it stands between two overgrown topiaries in large urns.
He reaches for the brass door handles and pauses before glancing back at me. “Traveling through the kingdom as a fae is dangerous. Even Finley can find himself in trouble because he’s tied to me. The last few years, he’s been attacked ten times by the strix. We figured they were tracking the royal carriage, so we got a wagon that has no connection to my crown. The hybrids seem to know where he’s going, though, and they disguise themselves, much like we do. Since they travel the same routes Finley frequents and don’t need to carry amulets, sometimes in order to avoid confrontations, he needs to stay here.”
The door screeches as Ash pushes it open, and we step into a receiving room with high ceilings and an ornate chandelier hanging above us. I scrunch my nose at the mold growing in the corners.
It feels like we’re imposing in someone’s home, even though it’s clear from the bed of dust accumulating on the stairs, this place has been vacant for a while. My heart is heavy with emotion, and I clutch at my chest as I step into the living room. Their things are still scattered about like they left in a rush. Or perhaps this all happened after they were gone, and someone ransacked their place looking for valuables.
“It’s never going to stop surprising me what happened to your people. Forced out of their homes by a curse. Also, I can’t get over that you all lived just like us. You have the samefurniture, paintings, books.” I wave at a sofa and gesture to the fireplace crafted with river stone, knickknacks accumulated on the mantel under an ornate painting where a spider made a home at some point.
Ash lifts a brow and tugs a white sheet off the couch, wadding it up between his hands before tossing it into the corner. “And what did you think we lived like?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. My breath billows in front of my face. “I guess I expected you to live surrounded by white marble and silver things.”
His expression remains haunted even as he smiles. “Are you disappointed by our lack of lavish homes?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I tighten his coat, which I’m still wearing, by the belt, hoping it will bring some warmth back. “All the fae homes I’ve been to are plenty lavish. A castle, a manor, and this is still bigger than my townhome...”
Something in this place is uncharacteristically icy, even for the middle of winter, like the house itself is colder than it is outside.
