“Is there a reason we’ve landed, my prince?” Sandus asked as he smoothed his beard.
The prince eyed me again. “I’m going to mistphase with Ilara. Her magic has manifested. She should be able to now, and it’ll make traveling faster.”
My eyes bugged out. “You’re going to . . . what? Wait. I can’t. I mean, I’ve never—” I swallowed my sputtering because surely I hadn’t heard the prince correctly. I couldn’t mistphase. That required power I didn’t possess.
“You’re magical, Lara.” The prince’s irises sparkled like sapphire gemstones, and damn my traitorous body for noticing. “You can mistphase with me. I have enough power to cross both of us.”
“But what if I’m not magical?” I picked nervously at my fingernails. “What if you’re completely wrong about me? A fairy must have enough magic to cross with a mistphaser. If one doesn’t, it’s too dangerous.”
At least that was what I remembered from my primary days. It was why children typically didn’t mistphase with a magically-strong parent since a child’s magic and affinity didn’t appear until maturing age.
The prince’s lips kicked up. “Then it’s a good thing you have magic.” He sounded so confident, as though he was certain that my affinity had indeed been born.
My lips thinned. “I’ll die if you’re wrong.”
“I’m not wrong.”
“Ock, just get it done with already,” Nish grumbled.
The other three guards all watched us. Only Haxil looked concerned. Indeed, that male knew I could end up splat on the snow, like a gelatinous mush of flesh and blood, when I emerged from the crossing if the prince was mistaken.
Haxil’s frown deepened. “My prince, are you sure—”
“Do you really think I’d put her in harm’s way?” the prince snapped.
Haxil immediately lowered his chin. “Of course not.”
“Ilara?” The prince’s tone dropped until it was so deep and rich that it melted all over me. “Trust me.”
“Says the fairy who murdered my parents,” I muttered under my breath.
His jaw clenched, the muscle like a marble, but his hands remained extended, and I knew he wasn’t going to relent.
My shoulders sagged. “Tell Cailis I love her if I don’t make it.”
His lips twitched. “You’ll make it. Now come here.” He clasped both of my hands and pulled me toward him.
My breath sucked in at the feel of his hard abs pressed against me. A pulse of sparks ran through my veins, and the feel of his body touching mine created a gridwork of unrest among my nerve endings.
His nostrils flared, and that hooded look befell him again, his expression turning carnal, but then a rush of magic stole over me that was so potent, so raw, that it consumed me.
The ground dropped out from beneath me, and then I was nothing more than mist and shadows, air and wind. The world turned into a blur of colorless sound, and then—
Waves crashed. Shores of sandy beaches stretched along the edge of a snowy field. Rolls and rolls of water waited before me.
My jaw dropped as I felt my arms, chest, and legs. I was solid. Whole. I hadn’t been obliterated into a million pieces.
“I made it,” I whispered.
“Of course, you did.” The prince’s husky words brushed my ear. “Do you still doubt that you’re magical?”
I hastily stepped away. “I . . . it could have been a fluke.”
“It’s not. You have power, Ilara.”
My stomach became a jittery mess because the prince was right. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have survived the crossing, which meant the prince could be right about everything else. My affinity. My ability to create orem.
I wrapped my arms protectively around myself and fixated on the ocean again. The sound of the surf hitting the land was strangely peaceful, hypnotic almost.
Prince Norivun cocked his head. “Have you never seen the sea?”
“No. Never.”
A wink of magic flashed around us, and then the prince’s four guards appeared.
Haxil cast a relieved look my way. “Made it in one piece, I see.”
I gave him a shaky smile and stepped closer to him. The pounding aura from the prince warmed my back, basking me in its strength, and it felt . . .
I shook myself. His power was too much, but the fairy guard was open and soft. He’d been nothing but kind to me since we’d met, and he was the only one I trusted at the moment.
The prince’s eyes darkened when Haxil reached out a steadying hand to me.
I gratefully accepted it just as the prince said tightly, “Haxil, report to Lord Sillivul and the Barvilum Council, and only return when you’ve thoroughly assessed the situation.”
Haxil’s hand lingered on mine before he gave me a comforting pat.
“Haxil,” the prince growled.
“Yes, my prince.” Haxil offered me a reassuring smile before he shot into the sky and flapped west. Down the hill beside us, the town of Barvilum waited, but around us there was nothing but a snowy field and crashing ocean.
“Nish, Sandus, and Ryder watch the perimeter. Alert me if any fae draw near. I’ll cloak her, but I don’t want anyone near this area.”
“Yes, my prince.” They all dipped their heads.
When they took to the skies and retreated to the edges of the field, I planted my hands akimbo. “Do you ever grow tired of bossing fae around all day?”
“When it involves banishing a male who’s looking at you in a way I don’t particularly care for? No.” He gave me his back, and I got an eyeful of his wings tucked in tight just as his statement struck me.
“What in all the realm does that mean?”
He stalked away, then crouched near something black in the snow.
I approached him and rubbed my arms. My tunic was thick, but it didn’t fully alleviate the chill. “Who were you referring to?”
“Never mind,” he said gruffly. He waved toward the black item, and when I joined him, I realized it was the withered remains of a wheat stalk. A very dead wheat stalk. “This is all that remains of what once grew here. This entire hillside used to be cropland. Some of our finest wheat came from this area. Now, it produces nothing.”
My fingers encircled the plant as my other hand drifted to the soil beneath the layers of snow. I had to burrow under a thin coating of ice at the bottom, and when my palm met frozen dirt, I searched for a hum that orem existed within this land. Nothing greeted me. I closed my eyes, searching for that pulse that always accompanied the fields.
Silence.
“There’s no orem here,” the prince said quietly.
My lips parted as the implication of what that truly meant took hold of me.
The prince was right.
We would all starve.
I withdrew my hand, shaking. “What you’re asking of me is impossible.”
“It’s not. I know you can do this.”
His eyes were so vivid, so blue, and such stark honesty shone from them that for a moment, I ached for his words to be true. I wished I could be who he wanted me to be. I wished I knew how.
“I have no idea how to make this field thrive again.”