Page 70 of Fairies Never Fall

“Witchcraft.” My sluggish thoughts coalesce around that word.

“You need witches to outsmart witches,” Ann says grimly. “Go, fairy! You’re endangering us all with your presence.”

“Let’s go, Lys.” Ezra’s hand at my elbow draws me away.

I can’t get my ur-form to go away.

Ezra keeps one hand on my leg the entire drive back to The Sanctum. It calms my tumultuous emotions, but I’m too afraid of my own harsh, rasping voice to say so. Still, it doesn’t make the thorns melt away or my razor-sharp teeth retract. My body feelswrong, like it doesn’t belong to me. Every noise assaults my ears at ten times the normal level. My skin is too tight, the rough fabric of Ezra’s truck seat scraping it uncomfortably. I can feel my blood pulsing rapidly from my heart out to every individualcapillary, sending blue shimmers down my arms and making my head pound.

Worst of all, my beautiful clothes are in shreds and Ezra’s truck seat is covered in claw marks. I can’t figure out how to get out without causing more damage. A frustrated noise scrapes my throat.

Ezra reaches for me and I freeze, terrified of leaving claw marks on him.

“You’re okay, baby,” he murmurs, his hands warm and gentle around me. “Let’s get you inside.”

I choke, swallowing back tears. Isn’t he afraid of me? Doesn’t he think I’m horrific — ugly, even? But he doesn’t pull away.

“Take him to Syril’s office,” Orion says right away. I don’t see his expression, too busy hiding my face in shame.

A few moments later, Orion appears again to grab Ezra’s arm and tug him out of the office. Ezra looks back at me like he wants to stay, but he follows Orion out. I clench my hands over my knees and sink into the feeling of my own thorns digging into my skin. More waves of blue rush up and down my skin.

There were times I longed for the ability to manifest my ur-form at will. When my sister started training as a warrior. When the azeroths came. But now that I’ve summoned that part of me, it hasn’t magically turned me into someone stronger and braver.

And I can’t stop seeing the fear in Ezra’s eyes.How could he want me now?

The door opens and I flinch. Syril glides in, a somber expression carved into their face.

“Are you hurt?” Syril asks right away.

I look down. “No.”

“Did you touch the riiga’s arrow?”

“It flew wide of me.” It all happened so fast.

“Good.” Syril’s sigh of relief is loud. “Ann’s neutralizer is no joke. You’re not an azeroth, but fairies are nearly as full of magic. It would have been a nasty shock to your system.”

I shudder.

“Did you find anything?” Syril pries.

“No,” I admit, ashamed.

They shake their head. “I didn’t expect you would. Elsabeth wants you safe, not out there getting into trouble.”

The rebuke stings. “Why can’t I turn back?” I blurt, digging my claws into the leather couch accidentally. I wince and put my hands in my lap, but Syril doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m not an expert, but an ur-form is usually triggered when you’re in extreme danger.” Syril’s piercing gaze makes me want to hide. “Or someone you care for very much is. Your body may think the danger is still present.”

“What do I do now?”

“Here.” Syril takes a vial down from the shelf and puts it on the couch next to me. “Drink this. And try to calm yourself. It will go away eventually.”

I drink the vial and escape to my room upstairs. The drink eases my spinning mind, but I can’t find calm — every time I close my eyes, I see the azeroths advancing. The flash of Ezra’s little blade. I was a fool. A selfish fool. I put him in danger. How can he want anything to do with me after this?

I curl my hands around my knees. Long, smooth green thorns emerge from my knee bone, my skin fusing seamlessly into them. Like a dragon’s horns, they’re hard and hollow. Inbuilt armor for the warriors of eras past.The Sanctum is safe,I repeat over and over in my head.Safe.

At least I know Elsabeth is alive.

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