Page 107 of Demon's Bride

The days pass, and I get no closer to any kind of answer.

I’ve never felt more exposed as a fraud, never felt more hopeless about my own abilities. Sure, I’ve been able to pick up some neat tricks while I’ve been in this realm, but nothing that’s going to help me now.

And even those tricks seem to be faltering.

The second morning after my trip into the grimoire, I wake up with an aching back from sitting hunched over books for hours the previous day, and with a headache that pulses from my temples to the base of my skull. When I try to summon a bit of witchlight to warm the tea that’s been left on a side table, there’s just… nothing.

Eren returns to the room a few minutes later, and finds me standing there, staring down at the tea and trying to quell my rising sense of panic.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t…” I begin, trailing off. “I wanted to warm it up and I can’t.”

I don’t need to look at him to feel the fear that echoes my own. It’s too soon. I shouldn’t be fading this fast, but who knows how much of myself I had to give away to get Ariana’s vision from the grimoire?

Eren braces his hands on my shoulders in a gesture of comfort, but I move away, walking to the other side of the room to put my clothes on for the day.

He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and a shadow of concern crosses his face.

“It’s fine,” I tell him, letting out a breath. “I’m just still tired.”

The words sound hollow even to me, but I can’t face the dark reality of the situation.

What if my magick is already failing?

Emilia lasted a year, and she was ten times more powerful than I was when we were both chosen by the Tithe, but damn it anyway. I thought I’d at least make it a month.

Eren’s thoughts seem to follow a similar path as he glances between the mug of tea, me, and then gives me a smile that I suppose is meant to be reassuring. It’s endearing enough that I return to him and wrap my arms around his waist.

“It’s alright,” I say. “I’m alright.”

We both know that’s not really true, but after just a few seconds in his arms, I start to feel better. Whatever happens, I’m going to savor this.

“I should get going,” I tell him, leaning away slightly. “Lots more pointless reading to do today.”

He pulls me back in and kisses the top of my head. “Let me fly you down?”

“A portal is faster.”

“Yes,” he agrees, reaching down and lifting me into his arms. “It is. It also deprives me of the opportunity to impress you with my strength and wingspan.”

My laughter follows us out of the room and bolsters me for another day of searching for answers I’m sincerely starting to doubt are even there to be found.

My sense of determination lasts all the way until the night before the full moon.

Evening has fallen outside the mountain keep, and I’m hunched over one of the last books I’ve pulled from the shelves for the day. Despite laying my hands on its pages earlier and getting the distinct sense that the last person to read it had a particular fondness for fresh pomegranates and raspberries, I’ve gotten nothing else useful during the hours I’ve been staring at it.

I straighten and roll my shoulders, letting out a long sigh as I push the book away.

Eren mentioned taking supper in the great hall tonight, and absolutely no part of me wants to do it. This whole week, I’ve only made brief appearances in the court, and call it selfishness or shame or self-protection, but I just don’t think I can handle so many eyes on me when the brave face I’ve tried to put on feels like it’s already spider-webbed with cracks.

The candle sitting beside me on the table finally burns out after sputtering a few times, and I absently reach out to light another with a bit of witchlight. It takes a moment of absolutely nothing happening for me to remember.

Right. Powers are gone. Excellent.

Standing, I move around the room and try to find something else I can use to light it. A match, a torch of some sort, anything, and I come up empty. Frustration mounting, I return to the unlit candle and close my eyes, hold my hand out, and try to concentrate.

Anything. Anything at all. Any tiny spark of power to let me know I’m not back to being an utterly useless witch again.

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