Page 31 of For Ever More

Captain Shenming’s expression grows stern. “They aren’t our enemy now, but remain a future threat. The balance must be maintained.”

“Balance?” I repeat. “To keep them downtrodden?” I close my mouth, regretting these hasty words as the captain glares at me.

“My sister speaks from what she knows—that in our time of greatest need, it was Thorn Valley who risked themselves to rescue us,” Dian says, as I look at her gratefully.

Shenming’s face falls. “I wanted to help you, Dian. When we received news of your peril, I was preparing to come. But the Elders advised caution, worried it was a trap. We could not risk our soldiers for fear of discovery.”

Dian’s eyes press thin. “If we are always afraid, if we never defend ourselves, abandoning our allies into the grasp of our enemy—then what use is the magic we possess?”

The captain stands abruptly, his chair skittering back. “Stay, Shenming,” my father urges. “My girls… they speak from emotion, they do not know what they are saying.”

“We do, Father.” I rise as well, repressing my anger at his dismissive manner. “You choose not to listen.”

As Shenming leaves, I head for the doorway too, wanting to get away.

“Wait, Yining.” Father’s voice laces authority with exasperation, except it’s the whisper of despair that halts my feet.

I rein in my temper. “Father, trust in Dian and me. We aren’t speaking rashly.”

He comes toward me, his shoulders hunched. “I didn’t intend to belittle you, I was trying to protect you. Shenming is a family friend, yet he holds a powerful position. He won’t tolerate disrespect to the rules of our island—even from us.”

At his concern, my anger wanes. “The world is changing… the Iron Mountains possesses magic, Thorn Valley is under grave threat, one of the dragons lies unconscious. If we remain rooted in the past, we will be drowned by the tides of change.” I take his hand. “Father, our opinions may differ. All I ask is for you to respect them.”

“You are right,” he says slowly, the lines deepening across his face. “I never got to watch you grow up. One day you were a child, and now, you’re all grown,” he says almost wistfully. “We missed everything in between. The edges that should be rounded are jagged and sharp. It doesn’t matter how old you are… you will always be a child to me.”

I lean forward to press a kiss to his weathered cheek. “Just as you will always be my father, no matter what happens.”

Yet I’m no longer the obedient daughter who was taken. I’ve been honed by the harshness of life until I no longer fit into the space left behind… until the only choice left is to make a new one.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DAYS PASS, ALMOST A WEEK. SINCE OUR ARGUMENT, SHENMING has not joined us at mealtimes again. While I’d grown accustomed to his presence, I enjoy speaking more freely with my family—selfishly preferring it this way. Yet a place for him is still set at our table, Father and Dian occasionally looking at the entrance as though expecting him to appear.

I’ve begun exploring the island on my own, trying to silence the restlessness surfacing again, the violent ache of repressed magic. I haven’t attempted to use it since returning from Thorn Valley, I don’t dare—even as I’m beginning to crave its release once more, taunted by the memory of channeling its strength.

There’s been no message from Jin. I expected him to summon me sooner—doesn’t he need my help? I hate admitting it, but I need his. Though it’s late in the evening, I stalk to the closet where the firefly is hiding, pulling it open. It flies out, landing on my knuckles, seeming to peer at me inquiringly.

“Tell Jin I want to see him,” I whisper to the creature, feeling foolish. Light flares across its tiny form, the creature soaring excitedly as a smile breaks over my face. It loops around me once, then flies out through my window, dimming its light out of caution.

I lie on my bed to wait, my body taut. Sleep evades me as I punch the pillow, rolling to my side. Training is a doubled-edged sword. While I gain control from using the magic, it also tempts me to reach for more. Light flickers from my fingertips, the magic slipping loose before I tether it. I fold over, feeling like a monster has stalked into my room and I’ve thrown up the covers… except there is nowhere to hide.

Hours pass. I’m still awake when the firefly returns. At once, I climb out of bed, changing swiftly. Fortunately, Dian and Father are fast asleep.

The moon is a sliver in the dark as I make my way to Cloud Ridge. The hilltops in the distance are dotted with light, the lanterns of those searching for the waterfall. Shenming would be among them, though we lack news in his absence. When I think of the Sun Dragon’s fragile condition, a weight sinks over my chest.

This time, I’m not afraid as the fireflies bear me into the sky, then descend to the inky waters. Jin is waiting, his boat rocking to the current, his dark robe merging into the night as he catches me. The wind whips my hair, yet that is not why I shiver as his hands circle me.

I draw back, sitting in the boat. “Is the shield weakening in the Ancient Grove?” I ask stiffly.

“It still holds. I was waiting to send a messenger, but pleased to receive yours.” His mouth curves as he sits across from me. “Did you want to see me again?”

“Yes.” I return his smile, watching his eyes flare. “I need you to train me.”

He makes a sound between a laugh and a sigh, shaking his head. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad you summoned me. I will bring you back before dawn.”

Picking up the oars, he thrusts them through the waves. We speak of small things, inconsequential ones, yet with him everything is more interesting—time flying by until the shores of Thorn Valley appear on the horizon. At the pier, the guards hurry to tie up our boat, a pair of horses led to us. Without pause, Jin and I ride to the Ancient Grove. This time, I walk ahead of him, the thorns parting for me—my finger pulsing where I touched the rose. Despite the eeriness of the withered trees, I feel an inexplicable affinity with the place, different from my home.

The shield we crafted gleams, though duller than before. Grasping my magic, I work alongside Jin to weave the barrier around the rose once more. The magic surges as it’s drawn from me—easier this time—its force tempered with Jin’s power. While it’s still a strain to leash it, I don’t lose control as before, not needing him to break its hold—though my face flushes at the memory. After it is done, the barrier shines brighter, a new warmth settling over the grove.