Page 93 of The Starlight Savior

Conor shook his head. “I don’t think it was a simple mistake. Sydera and the deities created the wards to protect each land. With Tiranos breaking them, it set forth some curse. Maybe the mist was the consequence if any ruler attempted to destroy the wards.”

Saige looked out once again, this time without fear. Of course she could feel the entities wrapped up in its intentions. “Its creator didn’t expect it to keep traveling? It’s as if all of Opela is punished.”

“I’d love to debate history with you, but we must hurry. We need to be back in Athalos by dawn.”

“Why?”

“Because no one knows we’re here.”

Saige lightly hit Conor on the arm. “So we’re doing something illegal now?”

He shrugged. “It’s not against the law to be in my own home. Being in the mist, sure. But we aren’t going outside. Now focus.”

Turning back towards the plants, she held her hands over the pots. She did her visualizations. Could feel the ball of light in her chest growing. Yet it recoiled against the plant, retreating back into her body. A deep and angry power swarmed around the blackened leaves.

Saige sighed. She hadn’t expected it to be easy, but now what? Closing her eyes, she hoped the darkness would calm her jittering nerves. The heat in her arms returned. Light flowed through her chest and down her hands. Memories flooded her head as she grasped on to the one feeling that made sense.

Hope.

She hoped this plant would grow before her, a simple, small thing taken down by the viciousness of someone’s greed and loss.

At first her mother flowed through her head. She would always be the one Saige thought of when she reached for growth and life, channeling her magic. But then her mother’s face transformed, and she saw someone else before her.

A woman with a crown of luminescent, white opals with white streaked hair.

Behind her, she felt Conor rush up. “Saige!” he yelled. “You’re doing it!”

She opened her eyes to see the plant not quite revived, but the withering, wilting thing was beginning to stand up straighter.

Looking up, she met Conor’s wide eyes, a smile splitting his face in two. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her close. “This is amazing,” he murmured.

“Oh,” she breathed, taken aback as he squeezed her tightly. Her body was lifted in the air, legs swinging around her.

As his limbs untangled from her, he stumbled back. A hand rubbed against his reddened cheeks.

“That’s all I can do.” Saige lowered her head as something sputtered in her chest. A soft dimness to her magic that she normally wouldn’t have noticed, but her heart thundered at the feeling. She closed her fists, drawing the magic back in.

“For now.” Conor placed a palm on her arm.

“Careful,” she murmured, “my magic burns.”

“When have I ever cared?”

As his hand lingered, the greenhouse was quiet around them. Mist ebbed and flowed against the glass, pulsing with gray swirls.

“Why does it feel safer here?” She didn’t find the castle unsafe, but here, despite the mist and the dangers beyond, there was a sense of peace and solitude.

“No eyes.” Reaching for a large sack from the corner of the room, Conor began to put dead plants, potted and loose, in. “There is always someone watching in the castle. Expectations haunting each and every citizen. A balance to uphold.”

Saige exhaled a long breath. “But I felt similar in Brevil.”

“This unsafe feeling”—Conor pointed to his chest—“is merely survival. If we couldn’t sense when we’re being hunted, we’d be dead in moments.”

“You think I was being watched in Denholm as well?” Saige gathered a pile of dried out and browned flowers, walking over and placing them in the sack.

“Well considering Tobin could sense your magic, I imagine others could too. Whether they knew who you were or not.”

“Who do they think I am?” Saige squeaked.