“I understand,” Adaira said. They were standing in between realms. A dangerous, uncertain place, neither mortal nor spirit.
The spirit eased herself down, away from the enchanted light, and Adaira knelt beside her. She opened her satchel and brought out her supplies, wishing that she had learned more from Sidra when she had had the chance.
She gently reached out and touched the spirit’s knee. The moment their skin met—warm and cold—Adaira’s mind was flooded with a dizzying array of images.
There was a hall in the clouds, tall pillars that melted into a night sky. Stars burning in braziers. The rustling of hundreds of wings. And Bane, sitting on a throne with his lance of lightning.
Kae . . . why have you kept me waiting?
Adaira flinched at the sound of the northern king’s voice. She jerked her hand away, and as soon as the contact was broken, the images melted from her mind. Her breath hitched when she met the spirit’s eyes, beholding the same shock within her.
“I was seeing your memories, wasn’t I?” Adaira whispered. “Your name is Kae.”
The spirit nodded. She seemed both troubled and relieved. The king had torn off her wings and stolen her voice, but he hadn’t thought to restrict her memories.
Kae held out her lean, sharp-nailed hand.
Adaira took it, their palms aligning. She closed her eyes and sank into the memory again, feeling threads of emotion. Defiance, regret, longing, anger, sadness. Kae’s emotions, she realized. By the time Kae’s wings had been severed and she was falling, Adaira’s heart was pounding so hard that she had to break the contact between them.
She took a moment to steady herself, then met Kae’s gaze again.
“Bane was asking about Jack,” Adaira said, swallowing the fear that was rising within her. “Is my . . . is he in trouble?”
Kae moved her hands, but Adaira couldn’t draw meaning from her elegant motions.
“Can you show me the last time you saw him?” Adaira rasped, hoping it wasn’t too much to ask.
Kae turned pensive, as if she were thinking, sorting through her memories. But she held out her hand again, and Adaira took it.
She tumbled into a flashing, disorienting string of memories. They were limned in gold, and Adaira realized she was flying, soaring over the isle.
She saw Jack kneeling in Mirin’s kail yard, staring into the distance. His face was downcast with despair—an expression Adaira had never seen on him before—and her heart wrenched. I’ve hurt him, far more than I realized, she thought with a flare of guilt. He knelt there for a while, unmoving, until he heard Mirin call for him, and he began to uproot carrots from the soil.
He was walking Frae to school, holding her hand, listening to her talk.
He was sitting on the hillside in the dark, playing his song for Adaira. The harp strings glinted in the starlight as he coaxed sweetened notes from them.
She wanted to linger with him there for a hundred years. She soaked in the sight of him, her blood coursing, but the vision suddenly shifted. Adaira’s consciousness reeled in response, but she clung to Kae’s hand, remembering this was the spirit’s memory. Kae had left Jack on the hillside to chase after an eastern spirit. A golden-haired faerie with clawed wings who was carrying Jack’s notes in her taloned hands.
Don’t cross the clan line with those notes, Kae hissed at her.
The eastern spirit only laughed, soaring faster on her route.
Kae briefly caught the spirit, shredding the edges of her right wing with her teeth. The spirit was slowed down for a moment, but then she tore free and pressed onward. The Aithwood groaned beneath the gale the two of them spun—one pursuing, one dodging—but soon they had spilled into the west. Kae let the eastern faerie go, with her tattered wings and her cruel amusement.
Frantic, Kae wheeled to blow north, but Bane had already heard the music and felt the stirrings of old magic.
Jack then sat before an orchard, strumming and singing for the trees. Adaira tried to make sense of his intentions. Was he singing for the earth? For the orchard? But then Kae’s perceptions narrowed, directing Adaira’s attention.
The spirit’s emotions felt snarled, a medley of fear and worry and annoyance. Kae’s wings were churning up cold air, blowing in Jack’s face.
Stop playing! He’s heard you. He’s coming!
Jack was completely unaware of Kae as he sang. The spirit cowered as the storm blew in. She retreated but kept watching from a distance. She saw the moment when Bane’s lightning nearly struck Jack.
Kae lingered long enough for the storm to pass. Long enough to ensure that Jack was able to rise and survey the steaming orchard. Rise and gather his harp. When she passed by him, the air from her wings gently brushed the hair from his brow.
A warning, a chide, a reassurance, a comfort.
Kae released Adaira’s hand.
It took a moment for Adaira to reorient herself, chilled as she was by Kae’s memories. She blinked until the image of Jack had fully faded. Only then did she look at Kae with canny eyes, studying her elegant stature, the sharpness of her features, the golden blotches on her shoulder, collar, and shins.
“You were protecting him,” Adaira said, shivering in awe and gratitude. “Why? Why would you risk yourself like that?”
Kae extended her hand again.
Adaira slowly accepted it, a pulse of apprehension in her throat. She didn’t know what else Kae could show her, and she braced herself to see Jack again. She braced herself to see Bane and his flash of merciless lightning.
Neither of them appeared.
It was a quiet stretch of the eastern coast at night. The tide was suspended, and the foam was churning up the spirits of the ocean. Lady Ream, the ruler of the seafolk, was present, sitting beside a woman with a harp. A woman Adaira recognized with a pang. She inhaled sharply, as if her heart had been pierced.
It was Lorna.
She was young. Her face was pale and smooth, her eyes bright in the moonlight. Her long dark hair was loose, teased by a soft western wind. It’s strange to see your mother at your own age, Adaira thought, both delighted and saddened by the sight.
Lorna was speaking to Ream as if they were old friends, and Adaira wanted to know what they were saying. She attempted to move closer, belatedly remembering she was fastened to Kae’s body and memory. Kae was standing far enough away that Lorna and Ream and the host of other sea spirits wouldn’t notice her, but close enough to direct the winds and ward off the eastern, southern, and northern faeries.
But Kae trusted the western wind. Adaira could feel it in Kae’s chest, like a flame had been lit, and she watched as they blew gently across the sand with their midnight hair and soft, mothlike wings.
Kae seemed lulled for a moment. Her guard dropped as she continued to gaze at Lorna.