Page 245 of Of Masks and Fury

The ashes scattered on the wind, and with them went the last piece of my childhood. Thorne had been more than a teacher, more than a protector. He’d been the father my own had never managed to be.

“I never told him how much he meant to me,” I said, my voice breaking. “How he saved me in ways that had nothing to do with sword fighting.”

Trew’s hand found my shoulder. “I’m sure he knows, Isi. He wouldn’t need the words.”

But I needed to say them, and now I’d never have the chance.

Back inside, the kitchen still held traces of Thorne’s presence. A wrapped loaf of bread sat on the counter, a half-finished carving of a dragon on the windowsill, and his worn cloak draped over a chair. Each detail felt like a knife between my ribs.

I collected dried meat and hard cheese from the larder, along with a cask of water that had stayed fresh in the cool stone room. We sat at the counter and ate in silence.

Addie picked at her portion, her gaze distant. “He used to tell me stories about the old days, though that was long before his time. When magic was just magic, not something to fear or harvest.”

“He believed you’d help restore that,” I said quietly.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I failed him.”

“We all did.” The words tasted bitter. “I should’ve seen the Skathes coming?—”

Trew’s hand covered mine on the scarred wooden table. “Guilt won’t bring him back, but it will steal the strength you’ll need to finish what he started.”

I knew he was right, but knowing and feeling were two separate beasts.

After we’d finished, I wandered through the manor again while Trew added more wards to the perimeter. Our double bond amplified his power. I could feel his magic thrumming through the walls, stronger than anything he could’ve managed alone. The wards shimmered in my veil-sight, intricate patterns that would alert us to any threat.

Pherin and Gavelle took turns scouting, one always airborne while the other rested. Their vigilance reminded me of how vulnerable we truly were.

My body had stopped asking for rest and simply started failing to perform. The kind of tired that sat behind the eyes and madefamiliar objects look strange. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept more than an hour without waking to a new crisis. I moved through the manor on muscle memory alone, my mind somewhere behind my body, trying to catch up.

I eventually found myself in my mother’s study, running my fingers over her desk where she may have researched the veil breach. If she had, only a few papers remained.

Sitting in her chair, I sorted through them.

The breach grows wider each day. I fear what I’ve set in motion, what my father’s recklessness unleashed. But I must find a way to seal it before it’s too late.

It may take more than I’m able or willing to give, yet I would give all, including my life, to protect them.

The force must be harnessed, but how?

“She was trying to fix it,” I whispered to the empty room. “Just like we are.”

“And like her, you won’t quit until it’s done.” Trew stood in the open doorway. “Even if it kills you.”

He came over to stand beside me, staring into my eyes while stroking my cheek. “You’re thinking again.”

“I can’t seem to help it. If only seems to be the start of each of my sentences.”

“Even warriors can’t save everyone, Minx. Trying is what matters. Putting your heart into it, which you do with everything. And standing back up after you fall.”

“What if I can’t stand back up this time?” I croaked.

“Then I’ll carry you until you can. Your scars are mine to kiss away, just as you heal mine. That’s what we do for each other.”

The tenderness in his voice broke the pain loose in my chest. I pressed my forehead to his thigh, letting his solid frame bring me strength.

“I love you,” I whispered. “Even when everything’s falling apart, that’s the one truth I hold onto.”

“You’re my certainty when nothing else makes sense.”