Page 109 of The Stolen Throne
He stiffens, silent for a long moment. “What else did your Omma want?”
Stick to the important stuff, I guess. I quickly tell him about the encounter, what she’s doing now, and the vision about the sand nymph, which I’m already adjusting to knowing. I think maybe I’ve become desensitized to shock now.
When Reven says nothing, I glance up to find him staring at me like he’s seeing me for the first time or something.
“What?” I ask.
He glances away, then back to me. “You know how I trapped all those soldiers’ souls in the Shadowood and the temple?”
“Yeah.” And then started avoiding me even more after. Why is he bringing this up now? “Are you trying to scare me or something?”
“It’s—” He shakes his head. I expect him to say dangerous. “Terrible. I did that.”
For a flash of a moment, I can feel the weight through my scars, the guilt, as if the entire world was on my shoulders, crushing me. What Reven feels.
And he won’t let me help. Let me comfort him. An ache blooms under my ribs, and I rub at the center of my chest. “But you stopped them.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m the one who stopped the shadow souls in the woods.”
Dread joins the weight and the ache, like a heavy stone tied around my neck. I don’t want to ask, but it’s already coming together with the curse and Omma’s story about the Hag. “Then what stopped them?”
“You.”
My heart pounds against the bones of my ribs like a trapped bird trying to get out of a cage. “I didn’t do anything. How can you be sure?”
Reven’s gaze softens, like he sees how that scares me and wishes he could take the blow for me. Even his voice gentles. “I heard your voice. I heard you yell, ‘Let him go.’ And then they stopped.”
The blood drains from my face in a rush, and suddenly Reven is there, hands on my arms, helping me sit back down. Then he shoves my head between my knees. “Breathe.”
By now, though, I’ve already come out of the shock.
“Breathe, Meren,” he says again.
“I am breathing.” I scowl at my shoes. He doesn’t let me up, though, and I swat at his hands. “I did say that. I yelled the words Let him go.” Twice, I think.
Silence, then the pressure of his hand at my back disappears and I sit up and we stare at each other. He’s so close. Right there.
I swallow. “But that doesn’t prove that I—”
“That you controlled those shadow souls somehow?” He grimaces. “I don’t know. What your Omma told you about the sand nymph’s curse could mean you have some way to use Eidolon’s power. To use my power. But it’s vague…” He glances at where my scar is. “Honestly, I have no idea. Did it feel like you made the shadow souls in the woods stop?”
I think back. I was terrified for him and furious at the darkness for hurting him. But did I do anything? Or, in my opinion, a worse question…if I was the one commanding the darkness, did I do the attacking or the stopping or both? How could I do any of that and not know? I shake my head.
“There’s more, though. I got me and Cain out of the woods, and he was mumbling all those things about you needing to stay away from me, which riled them up good. After that, he accidentally hit you”—he scowls—“and Eidolon’s Shadows tried to—” He takes a choppy breath. “They went quiet when I touched you.”
I stare at Reven. “What?”
He shakes his head. “It felt like when I manage to lock them deeper inside me, but I didn’t do that. Did you feel that?”
“No…” I pause. “Maybe? I could see it because your face stopped doing that thing. But no. I didn’t feel anything. Don’t you think if I was doing any of these things, it would feel like when I use my power?”
That is unmistakable.
Except…I haven’t always felt my own power at work. Not at the beginning, at least. And my power does come out more with emotions. Uncontrollably in the earliest days. Stronger lately.
Everything piles up over me until I feel…buried.
“Seven hells.” I drop my head to his chest and lean into him. It’s either that or quietly scream, so I go with that, even though he tenses against me. I expect him to immediately set me away, but he doesn’t. I close my eyes and will him to give me this. Just for a moment.
