I didn’t know how long I’d been standing there when I noticed two tall, shadowed figures walking across the grounds toward the hedge. A rush of dread flashed through me; my nails gouged the window seal. Before the scream building in my throat could release, the clouds parted, and the silver light revealed my father and the Paladin who I was almost certain had feelings for my sister—Raidyn.
I watched them for only a moment before turning and rushing to my wardrobe. Sleep wasn’t coming, that much was certain. And I couldn’t bear the thought of standing in my room for who knew how many more hours by myself, lightheaded with panic. Instead, I hastily yanked off my dressing gown and nightclothes and pulled on whatever dress was closest. Without bothering to waste time putting on shoes, I left my room, my feet silent on the worn carpets and cold stones of the citadel’s hallways. I hesitated by the door to Zuhra’s room, but then hurried past it, hoping my sister was getting the sleep that eluded me.
The closer I got to the front entrance of the citadel, the colder it got; it wasn’t until I stood at the threshold of the massive staircase and stared down at the darkness swirling where the heavy doors had once resided that I remembered Barloc had destroyed them as well as the hedge. A night-chilled wind lifted the hair from my neck, sending a shiver skipping over my skin as I hurried down the stairs and past the charred remains of the doors.
Even though the clouds had erased the moon once more, turning the night as dark as the soil beneath my toes, a strange sense of peace enfolded me once I was free of the citadel. I was exposed, and cold, and powerless … but I was outside, near the gardens and orchards I’d spent most of my life tending. My true home, more so than anywhere inside the massive structure behind me.
Finally, with a deep breath, I turned away from the gardens to face the ruined hedge, where Adelric—my father—and Raidyn still stood by the hole, their backs to me. Their voices were a low murmur as I drew closer. Before I could make out what they were saying, my father stiffened and spun, lifting a hand, his veins instantly lighting up with his power.
“Inara?” He quickly lowered his hand when he realized it was me, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “What are you doing up—and out here?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” was all I offered, and thankfully Adelric didn’t push me. A muscle in Raidyn’s jaw tightened, his gaze strayed to the citadel behind us then back to me, but he remained silent.
“You’re barefoot—aren’t you cold?”
Ignoring Adelric’s question, I moved past them toward the charred wound in the hedge. When I lifted my hands up to one burnt leaf, the hedge fluttered half-heartedly, as though the inability to repair itself had removed its desire to even try to protect us any longer. The blackened edges crumbled beneath even the gentlest of touches, turning to dust in my palm.
“Why can’t it heal? Nothing has ever been able to hurt it before—nothing. I don’t understand how he did this … how he … he … I don’t understand.” And suddenly, I was crying, the words choked to a halt by the echo of pain, of emptiness, of holes where there was once so much more.
My father stepped up beside me and gently put an arm around me. I stood stiffly at first. Though he was my father, he was also little more than a stranger. But when he didn’t let go, I slowly allowed myself to lean into him—a bit. “The custovitan hedge is nearly impenetrable, but nothing is invincible. Not even this hedge could withstand a blast of such massive, concentrated power, like the type a jakla possesses so soon after the change.”
I shuddered beneath his arm.
“But it doesn’t have to stay this way,” he quickly added. “It merely needs a little help.” When he lifted his other hand toward the hedge, his veins were already glowing with power. I turned my head away, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Sir, I’m not sure that’s a wise use of—”
Raidyn’s hesitant protest cut off. I refused to look, refused to watch my father use the power he’d gifted me—that I would never again feel burning within me.
The previously fresh night air took on an acrid bite. Awareness of power flowing from my father into the hedge raised the hair on my arms. Was he truly doing what I thought he was?
The arm around me tightened; I felt the strain within him. How much would it take to heal the hedge? Was it even possible?
A rustle of leaves. A flutter of movement that sent a cool waft of air over my cheeks. Unable to resist any longer, I finally opened my eyes to find an unbroken sea of green. The hole was gone. The hedge moved before me, well and whole once more, vines gliding over one another in celebration—in relief.
My eyes burned unexpectedly. I blinked a few times to clear them as my father let his hand drop back to his side, the glowing power in his veins dimming rapidly before disappearing completely.
“You see? He’s not all powerful. Soon he will be just like any other Paladin. Then we can stop him and fix the damage he’s done.”
“Can we get my power back?”
There was a long, heavy pause. “No,” he finally admitted. “It is truly a miracle you are even alive.”
This time I clamped my teeth, keeping the words rising up, barreling toward my mouth, from escaping. I didn’t want him and Raidyn—or anyone else—to know that a part of me almost wished Zuhra and Raidyn hadn’t succeeded in saving me. Because without my power, I felt like a husk of my former self. Carved out, left empty and useless.
Instead, I stared at the hedge that had finally settled into stillness once more, and said, “Thank you for healing it.”
He hugged me tighter, and we stood there together, little more than two strangers, no matter what blood bound us, staring at the hedge silently.
FOUR
ZUHRA
I swam through dark dreams shot through with glimpses of light, where the rich, melodic tones of Raidyn’s voice transformed into a golden chord that I clung to as bloody teeth and torn flesh flashed past me, as shadowed beasts and beastly men stalked through my mind, hunting down any lingering peace I may have been able to clutch to my heart.
Being woken by the rising sun was actually a relief—to escape the horror of my nightmares by opening my eyes to the soft glow of a new day and my old, familiar bedroom. I lay in a ball on my side, knees pulled into my belly, my hands clasped against my chest. The chair where Raidyn had sat beside me last night was gone, moved back to the table where it usually sat. I was tempted to wonder if I’d dreamt his hand on my face, his fingers laced between mine … his compassion, his understanding, and his stories that had kept me from drowning in my panic—except I knew my dreams were not that kind.
Which meant he truly had stayed with me, alone in my room, possibly for hours, telling me story after story, until I drifted to sleep, his blue eyes a beacon in the firelight.
An unfamiliar warmth filled my body as I threw off my covers, despite the chill of the early morning air. I’d been too lost in the panic to question why Raidyn had known to come—why he’d stayed. But now, I couldn’t help but wonder.
I rushed to change into a clean dress and drag a comb through my hair, quickly braiding it back, out of my face. The citadel was quiet, which meant Barloc must not have returned—thankfully. I left my room, not even sure what I intended to do or where I was going to go, but then I paused, glancing at Inara’s room.