Page 85 of The Ruins of the Heartless Fae

He either didn’t hear her or he chose to ignore her because he didn’t respond. A restlessness draped itself over Blár, so like the never-ending desert winds she had now come to expect. He paced back and forth. Sweat glossed his midnight hair and he kept pushing it back.

Kolfinna shifted her attention back to the runes, even as her mind wandered to the others. How were they doing out there? Were they even alive? Her heart trembled as she imagined Eyfura’s and Mímir’s bodies twisted grotesquely, fiendish monsters hovering over their corpses, and runes flying above their unsuspecting heads. They couldn’t survive without understanding what to do. She was supposed to protect them, but she was stuck here—useless. And thanks to Revna’s lies, she had wasted a whole precious day.

If Blár wasn’t here, would she even be able to killthe dreki? He and the others had trained for years, while she was an amateur in every sense. Now that she was stripped of her powers, she could see just how weak she was.

She broke away from the boulder and instead kneeled on the ground, her mind racing. There had to be something she could do before the dreki showed up. Revna had told her runes came naturally to fae, and she had seen that herself when she had known the meaning of them immediately after seeing them.

Portal, she thought, whisking her hand over the sand. She ignored the heat of the sand as it burned her fingers. Swirls and shapes came to mind and she quickly mimicked them into the sand. She poured her mana into it with every flick of her wrist.Portal out of here, she emphasized, her fingers moving faster and carving the runes from her mind to the ground.

She heard the rustling of Blár’s clothes as he moved to stand beside her, but she didn’t dare break her concentration from the runes. She imbued the runes with her mana, bit by bit, but nothing happened. No tingling or swish of magic, no burning of the runes—nothing.

The runes were laid out in front of her, but they lacked the iridescent magic that clung to the runes in the castle. They were simply written words. She had failed.

“What is it supposed to be?”

“Runes,” she said, her tone dropping low. “It didn’t work.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Kolfinna slapped the sand beside her rune writing—she couldn’t bring herself to destroy it. “Maybe I’m not strong enough. Or maybe I don’t have enough mana. Not everyone is like you, you know.” She thrust a hand in his direction and her fingers twitched to claw at something. “With a freakin’ vault of unlimited mana to use at their disposal.”

“If you want to feel bad about yourself, do it when we’re out of here,” he snapped. His black hair shifted with the hot wind over his scowling face and he turned away from her. “Just give up and wait for it to show up.”

He went back to circling his sword, his expression pulled tight. Kolfinna blew out some steam and tried to—unsuccessfully—clear her mind. She wasn’t the only one with a lot to lose. If they weren’t able to kill the dreki, they would likely die. They had packed food and water they had found at Revna’s house, but that wouldn’t last forever. What if blinding the dreki made it so that it wanted to stay in hiding?

Kolfinna pressed more of her mana into the runes like a helpless child throwing a bucket of water into a raging forest fire, hoping to make a difference. If only, she thought bitterly, her mana were as expansive as Blár’s. Maybe then she would get somewhere. Maybe then, these runes would work.

She paused at that thought. Revna had been able to feel Blár’s immense mana even though Kolfinna had never considered it possible. Fae were able to feel the life force of plants and nature, but could she also feel the mana and life force of other creatures? Of humans? Like Revna had?

Her gaze cut to Blár, who was peering into the sky impatiently, and she gently bit her bottom lip and exhaled while looking up at the sky. Was it possible? It sounded like something forbidden. Like something evil.

“Blár, do you …” She licked her suddenly dry lips and her tongue caught the grains of sand. “Do you think I can borrow your mana?”

Blár stared at her like she had said something stupid, like she was joking, but her expression stilled him to seriousness. “Are fae”—he studied her, as if still wondering if she was joking—“able to do that?”

“I’m not sure.” Kolfinna tugged at her braided hair, her fingers smoothing over her hair ribbon. “But I thought … Maybe it’s worth a try?”

“If it can get us out of here, sure,” he said. “What should I do?”

Kolfinna released her braid and rubbed her hands over her uniform. “Um, I’ve never done anything like this, but can I hold your hand? I think that can help me channel it. I think. I’m not entirely sure.”

He held his hand out to her and she paused to stare at the thick calluses on the ridge of his palm under his fingers and the sand beneath his nails. His hands spoke of years of training. Years of mana singing the skin of his palms. Years of fighting.

She slipped her hand into his lightly, careful not to squeeze or signal something romantic.

Kolfinna placed her other hand above the sandy runes. Her mana swished in her flesh, swarming her belly and chest, but she needed to look beyond her own mana. She tried focusing on Blár’s hand. On the rough skin of his palms. She went beyond just his skin. She lulled her mana and focused onhis. As if he were just another plant she was toying with. He would probably be a cactus if he were a plant. Rough and prickly and tough. Or maybe he was a rose; beautiful, but thorny.

Finally, she felt the prickle of his mana—she followed that prickle, and her breath caught in her throat at the enormity of it. The life force of plants was always fleeting and small beneath her fingertips, but this was on another level. His mana was like a vast ocean. It swept back and forth, unrelenting. She understood why Revna had been shocked when she first touched his hand and felt the immensity of it. It was unreal.She had never even known it was possible to harbor so much mana.

And what was even more shocking—his mana wascold.

Downright frigid, like icy shores and freezing glaciers.

He was truly winter epitomized.

Kolfinna drew forth from that unforgiving, cold ocean. She pulled a stream of his mana from deep within himself and trickled it from her hand to the runes splayed on the ground. Bit by bit, she spooled his mana like a ball of yarn. She tugged and tugged, and it was like pulling a ship by a piece of rope.

The runes on the sand glowed a golden hue as they came to life. Excitement bubbled in the pit of her stomach and she lurched to her feet, shifting her eyes to Blár, who stared at the ground in awe.

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