Page 41 of Frost Like Night
There is something wrong with me still. I didn’t expect to instantly fix all my issues, but I thought I’d at least progressed enough to let myself love who I want to love. But when we fight this war, when I get to the magic chasm . . .
I don’t want to hurt him.
“Maybe he wouldn’t see it like that.”
I jump, surprise flicking out to every limb. “Really?” I groan to Rares, already feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “You’ve been listening?”
He pulls away from where he had been leaning against the opposite wall. “Your thoughts are practically at a scream, dear heart.”
“Liking you is hard sometimes.”
“You and Oana can swap horrid stories about me later.” He levels a penetrating stare at me. “You deserve happiness, Meira. No matter how brief.”
I cross my arms. “It’s not just about me.”
“Ah, and therein lies an interesting development, I feel. I seem to recall a particularly strong emotion of yours. You hated Sir and Hannah for making decisions for you—but it would appear that you are doing the same thing to Mather. Making a decision regarding his future before he’s even aware there’s a decision to be made.”
“I didn’t . . .”
But I can’t deny any of it.
Rares pats my shoulder. “I’m willing to bet that boy of yours thinks you’re worth any sorrow. Because youare.”
An ache pounds in me, one so deep I don’t know if even Rares’s words can soothe it.
“How can I love him,” I ask, “when I’m not even sure I lovemeyet?”
Rares purses his lips and before I can back away, hisknuckle thunks against my forehead. I start, rubbing my skin, a frown working its way onto my face.
“Stop it,” he chastises. “I told you I wouldn’t stand for such talk about the person who will save us. You act as though love is a goal you only achieve after so long spent working at it. And yes, work is involved, but at the end of it all, love is a choice—the kind you have with a spouse, with your people, withyourself. If you acted on those things only when you felt them, you’d be like most people—eternally waiting for a feeling that may or may not come. But if you choose, every day, to love yourself no matter what—then, dear heart, nothing can stop you.”
A breathy laugh comes. Everything really is about choice, even beyond the magic’s rules. And I’ve already tried to choose myself, flaws and all.
I put my hand on Rares’s arm. “You’ll make a fantastic father.”
He blinks, the faintest sheen of tears streaking across his eyes.
“I’m fighting for the chance,” he says. “What are you fighting for?”
The answer doesn’t come right away. I know what I’m fighting toprevent—the destruction of the world. That was the reason I made Rares tell me Angra’s movements during training, using his threat to fuel me on. But that was all based on anger, fear, worry—dark, uncontrollable things.
When I healed Mather, it was instant and easy. It was . . .peaceful.
That’s what I should focus on when I use my magic. Joyous, wondrous things, like standing here, talking with Rares, and Oana, who emerges from a room down the hall and puts a finger to her lips, mouthingPhil’s asleep.
I understood long ago that this type of family was never mine to have. But another type, something odd but whole with Mather—I could have that. And the rest of the world deserves to have that too.
That’s what I’m fighting for. Possibility.
Rares smiles. “You’re ready now.”
I squint. “Ready?”
But I feel it. An unraveling deep in my gut, the magic a gentle cascade of icy flakes that settles in me, soft and strong.
“Ready for the final lesson,” he says.
I’ve been training until now under a blanket of anger, half my mind always focused on worrying for my friends and the rest of Primoria. But as I look at the door to Mather’s room, I feel clearer than I have since I got here.
