Page 54 of Queen of the Night
“Yeah?” He looks my way and sees my dire expression. “What’s wrong?”
I flex my hands and wipe my palms on my trousers, then run a hand through my hair, almost tugging at the strands. “I think my magic is broken.”
Darvy laughs until he realizes I’m completely serious, and quiets immediately. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Maybe the widow venom did something to me?—”
Darvy interrupts, all healer now. “What’s happening?”
I’ve been thinking about it for a few days now, but it’s difficult to put into proper words.
I lower my voice, aware that there are any number of nymphs hiding behind every leaf and branch in this forest, and try my best to describe it. “My magic has always just beenmine. It was content that way. Then a few days ago, out of nowhere, my magic reacted to Vera. It was as if a piece of magic I’ve never known about rose from the depths of me that wants to…bondwith her. It’s desperately trying to do something that feels far too intimate with a woman I have no right connecting with,” I finish in a harsh whisper.
“And your magic has never reacted to her before?”
I shake my head. “No, and Vera can’t be a Black Tulip. I’ve seen her use originator and healer magic?—”
“But didn’t Jethonan tell you they’re similar to both of those factions?”
I stop, caught off guard at the reminder, and a smidgeon of hope blooms in my chest before I quickly squash it. “He did,and I see where you’re going with this, but keep in mind that I have been around Vera for weeks, and my magic has not reacted to her any differently than any other woman until now.”
Darvy nods in agreement. “Good point.”
“If my magic reacts to every woman I meet, I’ll be in an even bigger mess. How will I identify a Queen of the Night?”
“Send out a letter to the kingdom?” Darvy suggests.
“They’re in hiding. Fromme. I don’t think a simple letter will draw them out,” I growl. “Can you fix this?”
Darvy frowns. “I’ve never tried to healmagic,so I don’t believe so. Never even heard of such a thing, actually. Have you tried pulling lucent from Vera?”
I frown. “Yes.”
“I assume it worked?”
I think back carefully, but I’ve had no difficulty using lucent. “Yes, that all feels normal. But the other part, it’s still there.”
“Has it drawn toward any of the nymphs?”
“No. But they’re not human, either.”
Darvy nods. “Maybe Jethonan has heard of this before. Talk to him about it when we return.”
I plan to—if I don’t lose my mind first.
Chapter 33
Vera
Ileave Ikar behind. His large frame barely fits the chair that was made for him, but he sits as regal as the king he is. The knee that was pressed against his thigh feels cold as I walk away. It’s irritating how much I miss his warmth—my magic agrees.
I follow Darvy, Rhosse, and the nymph through the trees as I think about the seer vision I was just shown that feels as if it will forever be imprinted on my mind. I almost miss when the nymph points down to a magnificent bathing pool where we can wash. It’s a scene I normally would have appreciated, but right now, all I can see is the flash of hot white light before my eyes replaced by a faceless Tulip bridging with a man so dark that gloam emanates from his form, and I don’t know how to explain it, but I couldfeelLucentia dying. It seems eerily similar to the seer vision that I’ve heard of that began the Tulip murders, and I admit that if that’s what they saw, then there’s part of me that grudgingly admits I understand the fear that led them to violence—still wasn’t right, though.
But why showme? Why not Ikar? He’s the king. Whatdoes Odella want from me, and why didn’t she explain it? I’m certainly not planning on bridging withanyone, and that definitely includes whatever demon was in that vision.
I’m pulled from my thoughts, having missed the beauty of the entire walk, when we arrive at two rooms that stand side by side, high in the trees. Thick vines have been woven into walls, my room and the men’s, which share a wall. Garlands filled with thick, vibrant fresh flowers hang, acting as privacy curtains in place of doors.
I politely thank the nymph before I quickly duck through them. Brushing against the petals carries their sweet scent farther into the room on my clothing, and I inhale deeply, reminded of Mama Tina and the copious vases bursting with flowers she always orders for her parties. I can’t help but smile at the thought of her.
