Fearless Magic (Star-Crossed #3)

Fearless Magic (Star-Crossed #3) Page 32

I sat on a hard, single bed with unkempt sheets and no pillows in a small bedroom; I clearly had a fitful sleep. Just a sliver of light from the bottom of a boarded up window lit the dim room. The room smelled like mold and dust, and the only other pieces of furniture in the room were a petite, beat up writing table and rickety, chair occupied by Jericho.

I looked up at him, my hands still over my mouth, trying to breathe regularly and stay the tears that threatened to flood my vision. I failed before, I made mistakes, but waking up to safety without Avalon was the hardest loss to swallow.

“Do you at least know if he survived?” I asked, with a hoarse voice. My throat burned, and my head pounded; I was a complete mess.

“Yes, we watched him board the plane with Lucan. He was walking by himself, he looked healthy,” Jericho whispered, somberly.

“A plane?” I asked without inflection.

“The Royal Family has removed itself from India,” he said, the smallest hint of amusement in his harsh tone. “We suspect they will head to Romania. They can hide behind those walls and trust in the magic of the earth there to protect them.” He looked down at the writing desk, finding a splinter of wood to pick at.

“How could I have failed so miserably?” I exhaled into my hands, dropping my face into them again, wishing I could hide forever.

“You didn't fail,” Jericho sat up straighter, his voice stern and commanding. “You destroyed a palace, and healed your brother which probably saved his life. Gabriel said Kiran promised to keep Avalon safe. Things are better. We made progress.”

“Where is Gabriel?” I asked, not believing a word of encouragement Jericho offered. I was a terrible leader. “Is he all right?”

“Yes, he is. He is resilient,” Jericho smiled gently, looking back at the piece of wood his fingers were fidgeting with absentmindedly. “He's hardly left your room. You have him to thank for surviving. He pulled you out of there, fought off dozens of Guards.... He's....” Jericho trailed off in awe of the wise priest.

“Often underestimated, I'm told,” I finished his sentence, smiling sadly and thankful for Gabriel despite the consuming bitterness I felt for another failed mission.

“Where are we?” I looked around the room again, not recognizing any part of it. “How long was I out?”

“A safe-house, we are still in India. It didn't seem necessary to move until we knew you would be Ok and the king is gone, there is not real danger here anymore.” I nodded my approval, waiting for Jericho to tell me how long I was unconscious. “Eden, you've been out for two days. And you've been thrashing about, shaking violently and expelling random magic in your sleep. Are you all right? What's wrong?” Jericho's brow furrowed and he leaned back in his chair ready for my response. He was incredibly handsome, his longer hair falling across his forehead and his eyes smoldering with concern. I breathed a sigh of relief that I could count on him with every single detail of my life. Somehow when I was near him, I could find hope again. I could believe that everything would be all right.

“I don't know what's wrong with me. Did Gabriel debrief you?” I asked and Jericho nodded, “It happened after I took the Guards in front of Avalon's cell. Something feels off, I feel like.... I don't know how to explain it, I feel like before I knew what my magic was, when I tried to suppress it and it would build up and explode everywhere. Only this time, expelling the magic doesn't do anything, it's still too excited.... too.... panicked.”

“Do you think the Guards had the King's Curse, like before?” Jericho asked, moving from across the room to sit next to me on the bed. He held open his arm and I snuggled next to him, content in my nook.

“No, this is nothing like the King's Curse. Good lord, I think I would just choose to die if I ever went through that again!” I half laughed, trying to make a joke out of what I knew to be the honest truth. “No, this is.... I think this is just my body adjusting to so much magic. Honestly, it feels like too much. I don't know, maybe there is a limit to how much magic a person should take, and maybe I've reached it. Or maybe it was just too much, too quick; I don't know.”

“Maybe,” Jericho mumbled thoughtfully.

“I'll be fine, I just need to get used to it, Ok?” I looked up at him, hoping to reassure him with my confidence and then stood up to stretch, trying to prove that I was already feeling better.

“Something else happened during the mission that we need to talk about,” Jericho said carefully.

I instantly tensed up, terrified that we lost somebody, “What? What happened?”

“I think it's good news, it's just been somewhat of a struggle since you've been unconscious. During the mission, while we were setting up the explosives, Xander and Xavier ran into, literally, they ran right into Talbott. He was on his way back from the airstrip, we think. He was alone on a motorcycle and Xander had the advantage. If it weren't for their explosives, though, I don't think they would have been able to capture him. Although, capturing him was the easy part. Now.... I mean, we're holding him here, but he is somewhat of a difficult prisoner.”

“That's great news!” I exclaimed, finally feeling like I had a tiny piece of the upper hand.

“Well, we thought so too, at first,” Jericho continued, his brow furrowing again with intensity, “Except that he's actually, not that easy to keep locked up. I don't know how much longer we can hold him. As of right now we have to have at least five guys with him at all times, but we don't have enough people to keep everyone fresh and rested. He doesn't seem to get tired. Honestly, he's one of the toughest Titans I have ever come across.”

“Well, I'm sure he wasn't picked to be Kiran's body guard for nothing. Did you use those handcuffs he had on you?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips and pacing back and forth across the small space.

“Yes, yes, but he's.... he's really resourceful,” Jericho admitted.

“I better go see him, yeah?” I asked, wondering if I could handle confrontation. I felt fragile and frail and I hated every moment of it.

“Well, yes, probably. But are you sure you're up for it?” Concern still was written obviously across his face.

“No, but if nothing else, I can use him for target practice.” I smiled and Jericho laughed. My heart literally felt ripped in two with Avalon fresh in my memory, but Jericho made things easier. And I couldn't sit around and cry about it, I had to move on, to try again and next time I would not fail.

“He's downstairs when you're ready. I thought you might want to get cleaned up first, though?” he asked gently, and I nodded enthusiastically. I was filthy and afraid that I smelled bad. “There is a fresh pair of clothes and shower in the bathroom. You won't have hot water, but at least you can wash up.”

“Thank you, a cold shower actually sounds amazing!” I gushed, letting Jericho open the door and point the way to the bathroom.

Outside the bedroom I could hear voices downstairs. Listening to the soft chatter, and bits of laughter of other people committed to the same cause felt like salve to my wounded heart. This house was healing in a way; these people provided the soothing medication I needed to move forward. The Rebellion was still alive, still a force to be reckoned with and with their help we could conquer the oppression. We could not only set Avalon free, but an entire race of Immortals.

I took my time in the shower, washing the blood out of my hair and using a razor that someone miraculously left behind. I didn't know whose it was and that was kind of gross, but my legs appreciated the grooming.

I dried off with a thin towel and changed into the clothes left on the sink. The short sleeved, gray shirt was a little tight and the black, linen pants a little big. I pulled the drawstring as tightly as I could, but still they hung low on my waist, leaving two inches of skin between my shirt and my pants. It wasn't a look I would normally rock, but looking down at my discarded, filthy clothes, I decided I didn't have a choice.

I pulled my long hair over my shoulder and combed through it with my fingers. This impossible mess of tangles desperately needed a trim, but working with what I had, I braided it, using magic to loosen the especially tough areas.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment. I hardly took time to look at myself since this entire debacle started and now I barely recognized myself. I felt decades older and was positive I looked it. My black eyes, seemed impossibly darker, more like a midnight storm than the onyx stone I once compared them to. I could swear I saw the beginning of wrinkles on my tanned face. I had always been happy with my appearance, self-confident enough to know that I wasn't ugly, but now I couldn't even decide. The face in the mirror felt like a stranger, and I didn't even know how to begin to get to know her again.

I breathed a frustrated sigh and then left the bathroom. I knew there were more important things to worry about than meditating on self-revelation or vanity.

I bounced down the stairs, feeling more energized after the shower, although magic still buzzed uncomfortably underneath my skin. The bottom of the stairs opened up into a living room area, where Naima and Grace talked quietly together on a couch. They were close friends, it was easy to see and I longed for Lilly for the millionth time.

They looked up at me, smiling graciously; an idea suddenly hit me. “Where are they keeping Talbott?” I asked and Naima pointed towards a door to my left.

Jericho stepped through the door at the sound of my voice, shutting it quickly behind him. He tilted his chin, for me to join him, putting his hand on my shoulder when I reached him.

“Are you sure you're up for this?” he asked.

“Yes, of course,” I answered, firmly.

“Ok, let's get this over with then. He's been a bit feisty today.” Jericho opened the door and then leaned into my ear, “You smell good.”

I walked through the door laughing, but quickly stifled it when I met Talbott face to face. The magical hand-cuffs that were supposed to diminish magical power bound his hands, and he sat in a chair that was tied to his legs, much like Avalon had been. But he flailed his body and the chair wildly in a stuttered circle. He was furious, rage written across his angular face and I didn't know what do with him in that moment.

“Talbott, settle down!” I scolded loudly, hoping he was willing to listen to my reason.

“Eden, you'd better let me go!” he growled, jumping his chair a foot towards me. The room wasn't very big to begin with, but even I flinched at Talbott's behavior. I was unprepared to take any more magics on and I really hoped he wasn't going to push me into taking his. I sent his chair backwards with magic, setting it forcefully down on the ground and shaking it a little to grab his attention.

“Calm down!” I demanded, “I am here to help you, but if you're going to act like a maniac about it, then I'm just going to leave and you can continue with your escape planning. It really seems to be working out for you.” I rolled my eyes and hoped he would see how ridiculous he was behaving. I suddenly understood why Jericho said we didn't have enough people to contain him.

He resentfully settled down, but still bristled at his captors. He was clearly not used to being the one in the prisoner’s uniform, so to speak.