The gap between Cyrene’s group and Fallon’s family stayed uncomfortably present the rest of the way through Noirwood Forest. Cyrene still had no idea what to make of them, and it was only coincidence that she’d learned the mother’s name was Fenra. She still had no idea of the father’s name or anything more than Marcotte had told them the first day.

By the time they reached the outpost at a small river town aptly named River Crossing, their nerves were shot and eyes maladjusted to the bright light on the other side of the forest. Teague went bounding through the open field they passed, finally free to stretch his legs and run like the kid that he was.

But Marcotte promised only one night there, and then they’d make the crossing and head north into the Vert Mountains. It would take another five days through the mountains and then a two-day trek down into the valley. Cyrene was glad that it appeared Alandria was significantly smaller than Emporia. She could have never crossed half of the continent in two weeks.

Marcotte led them to an inn by the river. “Meet me tomorrow morning at sunrise.” Then, he promptly disappeared from view.

Cyrene took her meager belongings up to her room and helped settle Avoca into a bed. She checked her vitals and made sure she was still getting all the proper nutrients. She’d started exercising Avoca’s arms and legs and stretching her as much as she could. She had every intention of finding someone in Kinkadia to heal Avoca and wanted her still in ample shape once she was whole again.

Orden disappeared to get more supplies. Ahlvie offered to stay with Avoca. And the twins and Mikel left as soon as their supplies were down, which left Cyrene with the evening to herself.

She knew that she should do something useful, but all she really wanted to do was practice with her new dagger. She hadn’t gotten the chance before they left, and she’d been too afraid of losing it in the woods.

So, she hurried out of the inn and around the back to the stables. She found a discarded piece of wood and set it up like a makeshift target. She produced the dagger and weighed it in her hand. At once, she felt the tingling sensation of the ruby speaking to her again. It was pleasant, like cool water on her skin or gooseflesh raised from a beautiful melody. She experimentally flipped it and then laughed at herself for dropping it in the dirt at her feet. She might be all right at throwing it, but twirling it was out of her repertoire.

Holding her arm back, she gauged the distance and then threw the dagger at the wood. It embedded in the bottom right corner. But at least it’d hit. She retrieved it and threw it again. Judge, hold back, angle, snap, fly. Over and over again.

Every time, it felt just right when it released from her hand. Not that it meant that she hit the bull’s-eye, but it had such surety to it.

She had just released it one more time when she heard a rustling behind her. She whipped around and found Fallon sitting on the edge of the stables, watching her.

“Spying much?” she asked.

He frowned. “Sorry. I’ll go.”

“No, no! You can stay. Just come down here instead of watching me.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mean to interfere.”

“Have you seen how awful I am? I don’t think that you’re interfering.”

Fallon chuckled and then jumped down. He was still long and gangly, but he had changed out of his embroidered clothing and into black pants and a crisp white shirt. It fit him better and made him appear older and less awkward.

“You’re throwing it wrong, you know?” he said, striding toward her.

“Oh?”

“You keep angling right and turning your shoulder at the last second. The wrist movement is accurate, but your feet aren’t correct.”

“You know knives?”

A blush bloomed on his cheeks. “In a more theoretical application.”

“So, you can’t throw it either?”

“I can throw it!” He took the knife from her. “Wow. Is this Tendrille metal?”

“Yes.”

“Very rare. Highest quality. Did you know that it has to be melted to a full three thousand degrees hotter than iron or steel to be forged?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“And the ruby is from the Vert Mountains?”

She nodded.

He continued on in the same manner that Rhea sometimes did back home to show off her brilliant mind, “I would guess it has a solid twenty-five carats encased in Tendrille on each side to make it lighter.” He peered deeper into the ruby and then grinned broadly. “How unexpected! The gem has a honeycomb center.”

“What’s that?” Cyrene asked.

“The inventors from Moran discovered that certain gemstones had a particular hexagon-shaped center that made it appear to look like a bee’s honeycomb. They, then discovered how to fill each comb with magic. So, not only does the Tendrille keep it light, but the honeycombs, when filled with magic, lighten the ruby while making it shine through golden.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You can store magic inside this dagger?” she asked in disbelief.

“Theoretically, yes. It appears to have been made by someone from Moran. I’d guess this is an Elsiande tribe creation.”

Cyrene stared down at it in shock. “Can you use the magic that you’ve stored in it?”

“Well, of course. If you start running low, you pull from the honeycomb for further strengthening. It was said that the tribes in Moran originally had an entire trove of honeycomb gemstones full to capacity to try to get rid of their magic.”

“Insanity,” Cyrene whispered.

Fallon shrugged. “Sometimes, it could be useful.”

Cyrene couldn’t fathom it. Her life had changed so drastically since discovering her magic. She couldn’t imagine going back to what it had once been.

“So, can you tell if this honeycomb center is full?” she asked. She didn’t exactly want to be carrying around someone else’s magic.

“Oh no, it’s empty. I checked.”

Cyrene peered into the ruby center and saw for herself the honeycomb in the middle. Empty. A perfect place to harness more of her raw energy for a time when she needed it most. No wonder the ruby seemed to have called to her. Maybe it sensed her excess of magic as much as she sensed a place to store it.

“You really aren’t from around here, are you?” Fallon asked with furrowed brows.

“No, we’re truly not.”

“Where did you come from? Is it like Alandria? Does the Society stretch to that area? What is the temperature like? Is it temperate?”

Fallon kept listing off a slew of inquisitive questions, and Cyrene finally laughed and put her hand up.

“I’d love to answer all the questions you have, but are you even supposed to be talking to me?”

Fallon sighed. “No, but my mother doesn’t know where I am, and she allowed me to bring only one book with me.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “How am I supposed to entertain myself with just one book?”

Cyrene laughed. “Why are you all headed to Kinkadia anyway?”

He glanced around, as if waiting for his parents to jump out at him at any second. “We’re heading there for the tournament.”

“Us, too,” she said with a smile.

“My mother wants me to enter,” he said on a sigh.

“The tournament?” Cyrene asked in surprise. “Are you part of a tribe?”

“Technically, we’re from the Galanthea tribe,” he whispered. “Just don’t let anyone know. We’re…my father is…” He shook his head. “It’s complicated. And they’re trying to get us there a way no one would expect so that the rest of the Galanthea tribe doesn’t stop me.”

“But…why? I thought it was open to anyone in the tribe?”

Fallon shook his head. “They say that, but they groom people for the position. They put forward their three strongest warriors and let the Society pick which one goes into the tournament.”

“Do all the tribes do this?”

“No. But Galanthea does. Most of the warrior tribes do in fact.”

Cyrene couldn’t even believe that Fallon had grown up in a warrior tribe. He seemed so theoretical. All brains and no brawn. The kind of person who should be on the Society Council. They apparently needed more brains if they were allowing Venatrix to run over everyone in their way. That wasn’t peace; it was complacency.

“So…you have magic then?” Cyrene ventured.

Fallon laughed. “Uh, yeah. All Fae have magic.”

“What element do you work with?”

He sighed and raised his eyes skyward. “All four of them.”

“That’s amazing!” Cyrene gushed. “Do you have full mastery of all four?”

Fallon looked at her with a frown. “I thought you didn’t know much about magic.”

“I know enough about magic, just not this world. There are other worlds with magic.”

He seemed to consider this for a moment, and then his lips twitched as if she had just confirmed something that he’d long considered. “Yes, I can work equally with all four.”

“Is that rare?”

He nodded once.

“Then, you must be very powerful in your tribe.”

“Trust me,” he said quietly. “I’m not.”

She couldn’t believe that he had all four elements like she did. Well, she had four and spirit, but she didn’t think that Fae had access to spirit magic. But even so, Avoca and Ceis’f had access to all four elements, but they still had two weaker elements. Mastery of all four was indeed very rare.

And she hated that Fallon was so downtrodden about it. Anywhere else, he would be celebrated for his intelligence and skill.

“Fallon!” a voice cried from the back of the inn.

Fallon jumped in the air. “I have to go. Don’t let my mother know that I told you anything.”

She held her hand out. “Friends?”

He smiled wide, as if he’d never had one of those before. Then, he shook quickly. “Friends.”

He darted away, and Cyrene smiled. She liked Fallon for all his oddness and quirks. She liked him even more for the information he had just given her so freely. She thought all he had said over as she went back to throwing her knife, concentrating on that honeycombed ruby.