“Memphis, I’m sorry for what happened. Are you okay?”
A pressure had built so fiercely in his mind, trying to break through and overtake him. Blinking hard, he shook his head. “Em, don’t worry about it. It’s Adair, right? He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, or any of us. It’s just been a long day. You know, a lot happening at once.”
She chuckled darkly, running a hand through her ebony hair. “I guess it is, isn’t it? You know my dad is announcing our family’s regency? That as of tomorrow, I will be Emory Fae, Princess of Kiero? That as of tomorrow, everything my parents built will shift back into the mold it once was in.”
He took her in, weighing the truth in her words. He was afraid of what exactly this weight would cost. Grimacing, he said, “All we can do is make sure we have each other’s backs. And that the decisions being made are ones that will only better our lives.”
“And how exactly do we dictate that at fifteen and seventeen?” she asked, her voice demure.
Memphis arched his eyebrow. “We make sure to find the truths in this world and follow them. No matter the cost.” He took a step back, and the walls dipped. He breathed deeply. “Emory, I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
Turning, his footsteps echoed around him, pushing faster and faster toward his room.
Hold on.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had two episodes within the same week. It had been years.
Familiar panic set in as each hanging light on the wall flickered as he passed, the whining energy pushing against the frame that held the magic in. It begged for release and knew he could do it.
Everything in the Academy was constructed by the Faes, the Strattons, and the teachers and their abilities. From the steel framing, to the concrete, to the lights, to the desks and the very beds they slept in. Every particle, every structure had traces of strength and magic in it. The idea of technologies met with abilities was something never seen before, and it was catching fire across Kiero.
The Academy was, before all else, a tool, a resource to mend the mistakes of the past. Roque was building an empire with the belief desolates and people of abilities could live in harmony. Roque was living proof by manning an entire school of some of the most powerful kids in Kiero.
As Memphis ran harder, the full weight of what Roque had taken on hit home. The Faes had already achieved an impossible feat. A desolate prince and a fierce woman from the Shattered Isles being forced into an arranged marriage, only to fall in love and reshape their world into freedom.
What was one more impossible feat to Roque Fae?
Memphis reached his room and threw the door open violently. His world dipped, and slamming the door shut, his back slid against the wood. His breath was short and ragged. He was going to be sick, as a wave hit his consciousness, pain lacing through him.
He couldn’t hang on.
The white noise sharpened as Memphis let his walls down, tired of fighting, tired of constantly trying to be something he wasn’t. Just for this second, he abandoned his control. Letting go, his ability consumed him, and a like a star exploding, Memphis was lost in the sea of a thousand voices, sharpened and clear. The room disappeared, he disappeared, and the voices became clear.
Or one voice.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that Roque’s voice cut through the rest, powerful and full of secrets. But Memphis tensed before succumbing once more.
“She is our daughter, Nei, always. Before titles, before us, before this school. Our. Daughter. Her quality of life is priority. I will not put her in danger unless it is the only option. What choices do we have here?”
“I could try mending with the Isles, my sisters. Word should have never left our confinement. About what happened. About what we did. About what we have.”
“In our place of power, it is also our place to protect this secret. Until it is safe. Until we know for certain that after dealing with Cesan, there are no more threats. There has been word of strange things happening past Sarthaven. That a darkness is starting to lift its head, tinging the borders. Creatures of the night, strange disappearances, accidents. The people of Kiero are scared and are looking to us to secure their peace of mind.” He paused, then continued, “I promise you, as my best friend, that after we deal with this, we will destroy it. We will find a way, find someone who can help. But until then, we make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Being slammed back into the present, Memphis fell on his hands and knees, heaving for air. The room spun, and he threw his meager energy into throwing his mental walls back up. A blissful emptiness greeted him, as he staggered to his bed. What had he just heard? What were they talking about? Why were they in danger?
Sitting hard on the edge of his bed, gasping, he tried to sort through his emotions. Brokk had been right. Within twenty-four hours, everything had changed. And his hopes were crashing around him.
Numbly, he looked to the door, his gut telling him to run, to find Brokk. There was nothing they couldn’t figure out. But for the first time in eleven years, he couldn’t move a muscle. It was too much to digest, to take in. How could he move forward when he couldn’t even sort out what he was feeling?
Anger. Grief. Fear.
They were being propelled by the fates, out of his worldly
