Page 172 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
“No more. No more ice or snow or barriers when it comes to him. Let all of the pieces out.”
The icy mirror of me cracked wide open with a smile.
“As you wish.”
And the ice itself began to crack beneath our feet.
The snow melted, pooling around my ankles. Fissures in the ground opened up. I backed up a step as mist began to escape those fissures in twirling tendrils, forming tangible memories as they came up.
There was Coen, pushing open the flap of the tent and locking eyes with me as the power in my chest raged. There was Coen, flinging me over his shoulder and hauling me to an alleyway to share his most vital secret with me in the hopes that it would help me survive. There was Coen, fusing his lips to mine when Kimber had walked in on us in his room. There was Coen, touching me in the cave.
And there was Coen, swimming with me in the Element Wielder lake, our laughs rebounding off the surface of the water that glittered with an inky blanket of starlight overhead. Ourarms were wrapped around each other as we bobbed in place, neither of us knowing that a certain giant octopus bore witness to the words we next whispered to each other in the dark.
“If you could have any magic in the world,” Coen asked me, smiling into my face, “what would it be?”
“Any magic?” I asked.
“Any magic.”
I appeared to contemplate, my gaze sliding sideways to the sparkling reflection on the water’s surface.
“I think I’d like the ability to touch the stars,” I said finally. “It wouldn’t be a useful power to anyone, but… I’d like to be able to know what they feel like without burning myself alive.” My eyes roved back to him, and my lips spiked up in a smile. “Why? What magic wouldyouhave?”
Coen ran a thumb along my cheekbone, seemingly mesmerized.
“I would want the ability to weather any storm—to just stand in the middle of all that raging beauty and watch it come undone. Without getting beaten to a pulp, of course.”
I giggled. “I think that would take super strength or something.”
“Well, yours would take super long arms.”
I splashed water into his face, and soon the mist of this memory showed us untangling in fits of laughter, trying to dunk each other underwater.
Then there was Coen and me, joining together in a boat among the same stars I’d claimed to want to touch. There was Coen, digging a dagger into Fergus’s neck and cradling me against his chest as he carried me back to campus. There was Coen, kissing me goodbye.
There was Coen, there was Coen, there was Coen.
And as all of those memories swelled and swelled within the dome of protection around us, the ice gave a last, deafeningcrack.
Then shattered.
All of my missing memories exploded outward.
Lexington had managed to wrap his entire fleshy body around the dome, but as soon as the first hint of mist touched his skin, he retracted.
A hiss left his gaping mouth. The memories pushed against him, so blindingly bright that Lexington had no choice but to retreat. Like a worm to sunlight, he began to crawl back—away from the gazebo. Away from my subconscious. Away from me.
I looked over my shoulder once to meet my subconscious’s eyes. A jolt trickled through me at the color that had returned to her: the pink in her lips, the green sparkling in her eyes, the freckles splattered across her nose. Still sitting on her throne, she raised a hand in farewell at the exact same time I did.
The next moment, I felt Lexington wrench himself out of my mind, unable to withstand the brilliance of the memories I’d unearthed.
“Youbitch,” he panted, and I blinked myself back to reality, where all of my knives were floating in midair, their deadly edges winking in my face. “Where did you get the power to do that?”
Before I could respond, another voice landed in my head.
Hold tight, Rayna. I’m on my way.
I tried not to let my face betray any sign of the communication.
