Page 183 of The Incendiary

“Come back in the morning for training,” he uttered slowly, “and perhaps I will.”

I hesitated, wishing I had it in me to kill him right here and now. But I knew I needed Simeon to protect the people I loved. With the wards weakening and my inability to strengthen them without his guidance, I didn’t feel I had much choice but to leave him alive, and work with him. For now.

I slammed the door of his study behind me. Instead of setting him on fire like I wanted to, I just imagined I did.

I was nauseous the entire walk to Simeon’s study the next morning. When I entered, I saw him peering into a tall glass beaker filled with steaming and bubbling purple liquid. His eyes were focused and curious—a stark contrast to the confident, manipulative, and coldly cruel man I spoke to yesterday. Maybe today, he would be different.

“Give me two minutes,” he said without looking up. “Feel free to look around.”

Not having had much opportunity to browse yesterday, I took advantage of his invitation to keep myself from running like I wanted to.

The back wall of his study was lined with bookshelves, far more than in the Barracks but still nothing close to the library in Tovick. Plenty of the books I recognized, having at least skimmed through already. I knew my uncle was controlling what information about Nyrida’s past and magic was accessible, and I doubted how much I would find both here and in the cave library Gemma had already told me about, though I planned on visiting there soon, too.

I migrated over to a table covered in sketches of all kinds. Weapons, saddles, shields, buildings. Some maps, too.

“Have you used all twelve of your powers?” Simeon asked.

“Eleven,” I answered. “All but one.”

He tensed, refusing to look at me. “Which one?”

I shifted uncomfortably. Of all twelve gods, this was the one I needed most. The things Nyxar could do with his darkness far exceeded Molochai’s shadow powers. He could move the heavens, turn day into night and night into day. With a single touch, life could cease to exist in a cloud of mist. At his full strength, he could even nullify the powers of the other gods. “Nyxar’s spoke is there, but it’s not solid. I can’t grasp it.”

Simeon closed his eyes in defeat, but he didn’t look shocked. Had he expected me to fail before I’d barely begun? “That night in Brinnea, with Molochai, did your powers manifest?”

I recalled the sheer helplessness I’d felt that night. “No.”

“None of them?”

I shook my head.

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I snapped. “Maybe because you starved them out of me.”

Simeon ignored my attitude. “But you wielded power twice before that night. Not so easily as now, but you did. Viridian, to heal that boy in Tovick, and then Rainar’s water to drown that beast. Why couldn’t you wield in Brinnea?”

“Because I had already given up,” I admitted shamefully. “When I found out who I truly was while stripped naked and tied to a tree by shadows, I realized how stupid I’d been to try and reason with evil. I felt helpless, deceived, furious at myself for being so impulsive, and I. Gave. Up.”

Simeon’s chilling apathy simmered into something slightly warmer. “I am very sorry that happened to you, Aryella.” A small smile pulled at his mouth. “Your mother tried to reason with him, too. You’re much like her in that way, always seeing the best in people, giving them chances they don’t deserve, but all it does is end up hurting you.” His grin faded. “The day your mother went to Molochai to try and reason with him was the day she began to die a slow, terrible death.”

Hearing about Christabel made my heart soften in a way I didn’t want around Simeon, but he was my only connection to the past I longed to know. Yet another reason I felt like I was still stuck under his thumb. My only access to my real mother was through him.

“Even if you had tried to fight him, I’m not sure it would have mattered.” Green eyes identical to mine peered back at me, turning grave.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The Selvaren are a unit,” he explained. “They are most powerful when together. They draw from each other. Yes?”

I nodded. I’d read this so many times I could recite it.

“For you, that means your power cannot reach its full potential until you can access every single one. Without Nyxar, you will not be strong enough. Molochai will snuff out every flame you throw at him, melt every flake of ice, still every gust of wind⁠—”

“I get it.”

“Do you?” Simeon countered. “In its full effect, Nyxar’s power can nullify the others. If you cannot eclipse Molochai’s darkness with your own, you’ll stand no chance against him.”

My dread felt heavy. “Then what do I do?”