Days pass, and I don’t see much more of Leon. He appears at mealtimes but says little and slinks away again. I end up sleeping in a hammock in a shared cabin with Phaia and Damia, which leads to much grumbling on Alastor’s part about having to share a cabin with the others.
It’s hard not to feel the sting of rejection at Leon’s behavior. But I tell myself there’s no point in caring about what’s consuming him. Soon we’ll be parting ways, and his problems will be no concern of mine.
Instead, I try to focus on the task ahead of me—getting safely to Gullert on my own. I ask the soldiers to teach me more combat moves, and they gladly oblige. It helps with their boredom too, as they take it in turns to see who can teach me the deadliest move.
I even win Eryx over a little when I show him I’ve got pretty good aim—though all I get is a grunt of approval after I manage to land a knife in an apple from across the room.
I practice with my magic too, conjuring sun beams in tiny rays that fit in my hand, then extinguishing them again. I don’t dare try to produce anything bigger on a highly flammable wooden boat, so mostly I focus on my orbital power.
Somewhere between Hallowbane and here, I’ve managed to find it again, concentrating on that sensation of being drawn to something, just like Leon suggested. I sit below deck and pull objects into my sphere, watching them rotate before dropping them again.
“You know, most people won’t recognize that for what it is,” Alastor says one day, watching as I make Stratton’s deck of cards dance in a circle around me. I concentrate on pulling them closer to me and then loosening my hold, making them pulse in and out like dancers swirling around a ballroom floor.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“People wouldn’t look at that and know it’s celestial. You could pass yourself off as an aesteri.”
“Except she’d need to be careful around other aesteri,” Hyllus says quietly. I jump. Despite his size, I’d not noticed the fae sitting in the corner, reading a book.
“They’d be able to tell?” I ask. I know by now Hyllus’s terrial power allows him great hearing—it’s how he could confirm how much security Corrin had with him in Hallowbane—but his observation makes me realize it must be aesteri magic.
“They might try to counteract your magic,” Hyllus says. “When they find they can’t, they might guess you aren’t using air to move things.”
“That’s your invitation to stay away from nosy aesteri like Hyllus then,” Alastor says to me with a wink.
Hyllus wears a small smile too. “You snore so badly, Alastor, I’ve been praying for the gods to take away my hearing for the past week.”
His answer is so softly spoken yet so unexpectedly savage that I choke back a laugh. Alastor makes a rude gesture at Hyllus, and I refocus on the playing cards that had dropped to the floor, making them orbit again.
“I suppose I could get away with using a little magic here and there,” I say, hope lifting my voice as I plan my cover story for when I go to stay with Will. I’ll be a low-skilled aesteri. Lots of people only have a little bit of magic—enough for a single trick on par with a sleight of hand. This trick would fit nicely…and it would be a lot more believable than saying I have no magic at all.
The dryad in Hallowbane told me I could have access to lots of power, if I wanted it—but do I? What use is my magic to me in Trova? It can’t bring great wealth or power, and those things don’t mean much to me anyway. I don’t want anything more than to be safe and cared about.
“How do the solari live in Filusia?” I ask Alastor. “Do they really use their magic, just like anyone else?”
“So I’ve heard. I can’t say I’ve met many. Even in Filusia, they’re rare. Some become priests, because their power is meant to be so closely linked to the gods—in our eyes, that means they were blessed.”
“So they’re celebrated instead of condemned,” I say, imagining how that must feel.
“Yes.” He gives me a sad smile, aware of the irony.
I try to concentrate on my orbital magic. It ultimately doesn’t matter how well the solari live in Filusia. It’s not as if I can go there. The fae kingdom isn’t allowed to accept any solari refugees from Trova. To do so would be to risk a serious conflict.
“You’ve gotten much better.”
I look up to see Leon in the doorway, watching us. There are dark shadows under his eyes, which suggest he hasn’t slept much despite spending so much time in his cabin.
“I found my orbital power,” I say simply. Probably none of this would have been possible without Leon. I don’t know if I would’ve ever learned to control my magic and call on it at will without his advice. More likely, I’d have ended up accidentally exposing my celestial magic and heading straight to my death.
He nods thoughtfully. “The dryad in Hallowbane talked about the depth of your power. I’ve seen it too, when I was in your mind. It made me wonder if there are more abilities you’ve yet to unlock.”
“More?” I look around at Alastor and Hyllus, expecting to see the doubt I feel written on their faces, but they don’t meet my eye. “You think I’m more than twin-blessed? Is that even possible?”
“Solari operate on different rules,” Leon says. “There are some old stories…”
I see a flicker of an unusual emotion in his face as he speaks, but I know I must look skeptical. Recognizing my expression, he shrugs.
“But they’re just old stories. What’s important is that you’ve mastered the basics now.” He turns as if to head back into his cabin.
