When I said nothing, he took a sip and went on. “Magic is everywhere, but most people—fae and humans with gifts—they can only feel the magic that’s inside them.”
Like Rose had described when she’d tried to teach me. She’d spoken of reaching inside.
“But we can feel what’s around us. Think of it as tethered and untethered. Enchanted objects and people—their magic is closely tethered. That’s why Horrors have to go right up to them to feed.”
I grimaced at the memory of Horrors feeding on people in the city streets.
“Remember the apple.”
I sighed and re-focused my grip.
“On the other hand, animals and plants vary depending on their age and intelligence—their will.”
“The Great Yew—I’m guessing that’s tightly tethered.”
“Exactly. While the magic of the land is untethered. It’s the easiest thing for us to draw upon, just as it’s easiest for Horrors to feed upon.”
“So… unseelie draw on magic, and Horrors feed upon it.”
“Hmm.” He nodded and something flickered over his expression before he took a long draught of his coffee.
I thought of the monsters’ void-black eyes and the void blade of his unseelie sword. “Have you ever thought about the similarity between them and unseelie powers before?”
He exhaled through his nose, tension twitching around his eyes. “I have. Often.” He dragged his gaze up from the table to me. “I suspect Horrors came from the Underworld, the same as unseelie. Or that unseelie magic was used to create them. But it was so long ago, and their creators or summoners were all executed after the war. There’s no way to know.”
And, through him, I had something in common with those monsters. Until I was cured, at least.
“I think that’s long enough. You can put the apple down.” He fetched a thick book off the shelf and brought it over. “Now, hold this, your hand at the top, the book beneath.”
My forearm ached as I placed the apple on my plate and turned my chair from the table. When I tried to take the book, it only stayed there a moment before slipping from my grasp.
Crouching, he caught it. “The tighter the grip, the sooner it breaks.”
I half groaned, flexing my stiff fingers. “And there’s the lesson.”
“I told you there was a purpose.” He sank to his knees before me. “I think this is what the Lady of Lake was getting at. You hold on to the magic near you, even when you don’t realise. But you need to let it flow through and around you, like you’re directing water rather than trying to hold it.”
“Look, I appreciate you trying to help me, but this isn’t going to matter soon.”
“Your cure,” he murmured, gaze dropping to my lap.
Silence washed over us for long seconds.
“Well, just in case it doesn’t work or you decide to take off that iron ring other than when you sleep…” He gave me a quick smile and squeezed the fingers of my other hand. “Letting go is an important part of holding on. It’s something my father taught me when I was learning to control my magic.”
“And when do you let go?”
He pulled away slightly, but I kept hold of him. “I’ve been doing this a long time.”
“When?”
He took a long breath as though he needed to steel himself to go on. “In small pleasures… and recently, in greater ones.” One corner of his mouth rose.
“You mean beauty and sex?” I frowned. “But you’re so… in control.”
“I create parameters that allow me to let go.”
The way he’d slammed into me after I’d asked him to give me everything. He’d only allowed it once I was held down by his shadows. Hadn’t I thought before that control was his form of safety?
“I’m glad it works for you. And I’m exceedingly glad that I can help with your magical control.” I kissed him, pulling back when he tried to deepen it, though the heat in me wanted to answer in kind. “Ari’s coming before she opens the shop.”
He sighed and glanced at the orrery, thumbs tracing circles on my thighs. “And I should get to work.” Yet he didn’t make any move towards leaving.
I gathered his hands and pushed them away but couldn’t resist planting a quick kiss on his brow. “You should.”
With great force of will, we got him out the door just as Ariadne arrived. She gasped when I grabbed her for a hug.
“But… your poison?”
“Iron.” I held up my hand and showed her the ring, smiling despite the queasiness that came after I ate while wearing it. If it wasn’t the iron making me feel faintly ill, it was the poison. At least this way, I didn’t risk killing anyone by accident.
“Oh!” She pulled me into another hug, squeezing hard. “Need to make up for all the times we haven’t been able to.”
I laughed, and when we finally broke apart, I took her to the sitting room and showed her the insignia Sura had given me. “I was hoping you could tell me something about this.”
She bent over, examining it.
As the silence wore on, I fidgeted. Ari had seen the one from the Solstice attack, but Bastian had it locked away with his evidence. “I can get hold of the other one I showed you before, if you want to compare them more—
“No need.” She shook her head, flipping the patch over and checking the back. “The differences are stark. The style—they’re by different hands, which isn’t a surprise.” She shrugged. “If you needed lots of these, they wouldn’t all be sewn by the same person. Your fingers would drop off, even with a thimble.” She flashed me a grin.
“So… they’re different, but that’s explainable?”
“Yes… and no.” A crease pinched between her brows as she held it out and pointed to the hydra’s golden eyes. “The goldwork on this one is only on the eyes, but the other one. I remember it clearly, because the thread is so unusual. I’ve never seen anything like it. Two-ply…” She glanced up. “Sorry, I’m not sure how much you know about sewing…”
“Only enough to make exceptionally mediocre repairs.”
She snorted and went on, “Well, a two-ply thread is one made up of two yarns. In the case of the other insignia you showed me, one scarlet thread and one gold. Real gold, too—high content.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“It is. A length of that probably could’ve paid my rent for months back in Briarbridge.”
It probably could’ve gone a good way towards clearing Robin’s debts.
“Anyway, this…” She tilted the patch so the goldwork glinted in the light. “This is standard crimson thread for the hydra and gold for the eyes. To my mind, the stitch difference makes sense, but the colours…” The crease between her eyebrows deepened.
“What are you saying?”
“These weren’t just sewn by different hands but… for different people. Do you think if Bastian asked for crimson like this, he’d be happy with that other insignia? It was almost vermillion, for goodness’ sake.” She snorted, shaking her head.