"SOMEONE TRIED TO POISON YOU?!"
Murtagh laughed at Hal's panicked and bewildered expression, completely unbothered as he went into a bit more detail about his various trips the past few weeks.
"Relax, Hal. Obviously, I'm fine."
"That is not the point nor my concern and you know it."
He grinned as Hal sunk further into her bath water, so hot that the steam was making Murtagh a bit flushed. She truly was a woman who preferred heat. Wanting to ease the newly formed tension in her brow, he dug the heel of his hand into the bottom of her foot, kneading the skin and muscle carefully to help her body relax after another day of strenuous exercise. He could tell she was getting stronger, and he was sure her being part Shade aided in her quick healing. But he could not help but feel in moments of stress that she was putting too much on herself at once. He knew she did not want to be idle for long.
There was a moment of silence as Hal's eyes closed, his massages briefly overcoming her concern. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?" she accused, her voice soft and dreamlike. "'Take a bath, iet dunei,' 'I'll rub your feet, iet dunei,' only so you could give me news you knew would upset me."
He snickered. That had not at all been his intention, but he certainly wouldn't complain if this was what it took. "You think me so nefarious?" he teased, throwing her taunting phrase back in her face.
Hal gasped at his boldness. "Cheeky." They both shared a smile, Murtagh, as he had been since Hal had finally woken up, completely and utterly content. "In all seriousness though, rider," Hal pressed, "how did you know?"
He lowered her right foot back into the tub, propping the left up on his lap as he thought for a moment. "I suppose I was a bit suspicious already since I had been warned that the Black Hand might attempt something. And I knew I still wasn't the most popular figure for a lot of people. Thorn and I were prepared for some disruption and on guard at all times. I think Nasuada also sent warning to the lords hosting me, as they went out of their way to demonstrate that regardless of how they felt about me, they did not want their loyalty to Nasuada questioned. A few even had servants testing the food to prove it wasn't poisoned."
"That's…awful. What if it had been?"
Murtagh nodded, his expression grim. "I certainly didn't insist upon it, but I felt I was in no position to push the matter either. Fortunately, though, I had been trained a bit growing up and again under Galbatorix to recognize most poisons, their scents, the reactions they cause when added to certain foods and drinks. In this particular instance, I noticed that the gravy on my plate was starkly darker than those around me. It was such a little thing, but I turned out to be right in the end. This particular type is only dangerous when ingested, but it leaves a slightly brownish tinge on the skin."
"And the person who tried to kill you?"
"They had escaped long before. They had snuck into the kitchens as a replacement cook, having caused minor injury to the other so that they could do the switch. But they fled before the meal had even been served. Based on their rudimentary tactics, it probably wasn't the Black Hand. They're too skilled for such a poor attempt."
"Don't sound so disappointed, rider, it's concerning."
"Well, I'd like to think I'd at least be worth a little more effort."
"Don't make me smack you."
He kissed the bottom of her foot. "I'm sorry, my love. I did not mean to worry you."
She gave him a long look, one that felt familiar in its close examination. "You have not yet told me what it is that's changed you so," she reminded him.
"You think me that changed? Truly?"
"I do. But in a good way. I can't quite explain it. But you just seem…different. More at ease and assured. Like how you were on Illium almost."
"You're as sharp as ever."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"No, not at all. Just more of an observation." He set her foot back in the tub and Hal moved to sit closer to him. He smiled down at her, suddenly taken by the look in her eyes.
She reached out for him, holding his hand to her face as she watched him. He climbed down from the edge of the tub and sat on the floor so that they were eye to eye. "I love you," she whispered. "Every version of you I've met. Every version of you I haven't. I love them all. But this version seems sure of himself. This version feels…like the you that you wanted to be." She turned her face to kiss his palm and Murtagh felt a pleasant chill run down his spine. "That makes me happy."
Heavens, what was he supposed to say to that? His stunned reaction must've shown on his face because Hal simply chuckled and leaned forward to peck him on the mouth. As she pulled back, his body reacted faster than his mind. He gripped the back of her neck and pulled her back in for a proper kiss. One where it took all his willpower to not pull her out of her bath and carry her to bed. One where Hal would release the smallest of gasps as she tried to quickly catch her breath when they were separated.
One that, in a perfect world, would not have been interrupted by the unexpected knock at the door.
Murtagh swore, immediately annoyed with the interruption. Of course, they would wait for the one moment when things had been getting interesting. Laughing, Hal pushed on his chest. "Go. It's probably for you anyway."
He leaned in close. "Don't you move."
Her eyes flashed at his boldness as he hurried to his feet, hoping that this was simply a quick message. He heard Hal chuckling as he made sure to close the door behind him before opening the door to the room.
He was surprised to see Jörmundur standing there, looking less than pleased. Pained, almost. And Murtagh understood why when he said, "Her majesty wishes to call an urgent meeting. The messenger we sent to Eragon a few weeks ago was just found face down in the Âz Ragni river."
…
Hal knew something was wrong when Murtagh returned, his expression pale. "What's happened?"
"Nasuada is calling an emergency meeting. The messenger she sent to Eragon was found dead."
Hal sat up in alarm. "Dead? But how?"
"I'm not sure yet. But I would bet anything the Black Hand was behind it. I'm sure the last thing they want is for Eragon to get involved."
"That's awful. I expect you're leaving now?"
"Aye. I'm sorry, my love."
"No, no, don't apologize. I hope everything's all right. Perhaps it's better to wait for Eragon to come to us. Truthfully, I'm surprised he hasn't already…" As she said it, she recalled the feeling when Murtagh had first detailed all she had missed — the notion that she was overlooking something obvious. And as she thought of Eragon, she realized what it was.
"Hal?"
"Thea didn't get rid of magic," Hal realized, breathless.
"Pardon?"
Hal gasped, then made a noise of frustration. "Good heavens I'm so stupid, I can't believe I didn't see it before!"
"Some of us haven't seen it at all — Hal!"
He turned abruptly as she climbed out of the tub, but Hal was unfazed by his continued attempts at modesty. She grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her frame, rushing to find a decent thing to wear for the meeting.
"Hal, where are you going?" Murtagh quickly followed after her, dazed and confused. "What are you doing?"
"I have nothing to wear that's appropriate! Can I talk to Nasuada in trousers? Nevermind, it'll have to do. I don't have time to call Juliet here to help get any of these dresses on."
"Hal…Hal you can't meet with the queen unless invited. She was very strict —"
"Magic is not gone, rider. At least not everywhere. I think I found the loophole."
His expression went slack. "You did?"
"I'm surprised you didn't."
"Yes, yes, you're smarter than me, no one in this room is surprised by this." Hal snorted as she pulled on an old tunic. It hung past her hips, so she dropped her towel and pulled on her bottoms and leggings. "So…"
"Heavens," Hal snapped, momentarily distracted as she hopped around, her foot caught on her trousers. Only when she was balanced did she speak again. "Think about it: we've had no magic for three months and Eragon has not made a single attempt to contact us to figure out how the bloody hell it happened? Not to mention a couple of elves we left guarding our village on Illium?"
He opened his mouth, and Hal watched the understanding dawn in his eyes as she quickly yanked on her boots. "Thea didn't get rid of magic," he repeated.
"Nope. At least not everywhere. Only in what was once considered Alagaësia proper. She might not have been aware enough of the lands beyond to affect Eragon where he was, and she probably did not think to include the islands."
"And your magic is still impacted by distance and intent," he added, getting it, "even if you don't need the language."
"Precisely." Dressed and as ready as she could be, Hal stood straight and put her hand on her hip. "Do you still think Nasuada will not wish to speak with me?"
…
When Hal finished talking, she could tell the mood in the room had shifted tremendously. Any irritation at her sudden appearance had first been waylaid by Murtagh who insisted they hear from Hal since it had been her discovery. Nasuada, sensing his eagerness, had relented. But now that Hal was done, she looked almost winded, like she did not wish to dare to hope.
"I can't believe I didn't think to even consider it," Jörmundur said, just as stunned. "We were so preoccupied with everything else that the obvious slipped right past us."
"Well of course, some of us have been rather busy," Trianna added huffily, the only one who remained less than pleased that Hal had been granted an audience. Hal clenched her jaw indignantly as the sorceress added, "Not all of us have the time to be idle."
"Of course, it's only speculation," Hal emphasized once more, throwing daggers at the women and her tone tight in warning. Then she turned and looked back at the others. "But what I know of Eragon, if not him, someone else from his camp would've already attempted to make contact. And Invidia and Blödhgarm certainly could've made it here by now if they thought something was truly wrong. And losing magic certainly would be it."
"Then we can get magic back?" Nasuada asked.
At this, Hal grimaced. "That I don't know for certain. I do hope so but…the history of magic being bound to the language is complicated enough. I don't have all the facts but think about the parallels as we understand them: the Grey Folk apparently went extinct binding their language to magic."
"And Thea claimed nearly an entire city to undo it," Murtagh finished, his expression growing dark.
"A spell of that caliber would require so much energy that it would either kill the hosts or require enormous sacrifice…possibly even both." Hal had to fight to keep her expression from cracking, realizing as she had said it what it could mean. What if Thea was already dead? Would she have sacrificed herself for the curse? Or perhaps she hadn't known that it could claim her life.
"So, then we can't get magic back?" Nasuada rubbed her temples, clearly aggrieved.
"It may not be impossible, but it would certainly be difficult." Trianna snorted and Hal sharply cut in and said dryly, "Oh, thank you for your contribution, Trianna."
"Best not to get too ahead of ourselves," Jörmundur said quickly, sensing the mounting stress of everyone in the room. "We should focus on getting a message to Eragon. We cannot use magic, but he can. Perhaps there's something he can do."
Another piece fell into place and Hal felt Murtagh stiffen beside her, realizing he'd had the same thought. Hal swallowed thickly, unable to look at him. She didn't know if he would agree or not, but it was her decision to make. And she made it quickly before she could take the cowards way out.
"That's not…entirely true." Nasuada, Jörmundur, and Trianna turned to look at her. She licked her lips nervously, meeting the queen's gaze until the woman's brown eyes flickered with understanding.
"You can still use magic."
Her tone was not quite accusatory, but she clearly wasn't happy. Jörmundur's eyes widened, completely caught off guard while Trianna muttered an imbittered, "Figures." Before Nasuada could suspect the worse, Hal quickly added, "I never needed the language to begin with. It is not stable, my magic, without it. And I didn't think —"
"You didn't think?" Nasuada retorted, rising out of her chair. "This entire city has fallen into despair and you didn't think we couldn't have benefited from this? The sick, the injured —"
"Your majesty!" Hal was stunned that it was Jörmundur who spoke first, although Murtagh looked just as ready to jump in. "I know this is shocking to hear but do remember that she is just one person. If she had exposed herself to the masses…the threat on her life would've been more than we can handle. We wouldn't have even be able to keep her in the city for all the people who would demand she use her magic to help them. They should not have kept this information from you, but it's also not Hal's responsibility to heal this city either. You are their queen. Not her."
The silence was stifling, and Hal didn't even dare breathe as Nasuada listened with a tight expression that soon shifted into shame. "Halen, please forgive me for speaking against you. Jörmundur is right. I was more upset that you are just now telling me this, but I had no place to insinuate that you could've done more. Especially considering you are barely two-weeks out of a three-month coma that you were only in for defending my city. I hope you can forgive me."
Nervous and a bit embarrassed, Hal stuttered, "Y-yes, of course," in the hopes they could move on from this conversation.
There was an awkward pause before Jörmundur cleared his throat and continued. "However, Miss Halen, if you are willing and able, do you think you could scry Eragon so that we may tell him what has occurred here? If we suspect the Black Hand is behind the murder of our messenger, that may mean they're watching that pass. We could be sending any further messengers into a trap. But if they don't suspect us of being able to send a message using magic, it may give us the upper hand."
Hal hesitated before answering, eager to help but needing to be realistic about her abilities. "I can certainly try. But if I do, I must do it alone. My magic has a propensity of acting on my emotions or an ill-timed thought or wish. Just like with the language, it can still go astray. I don't want anyone around me when I perform. That is my condition."
Jörmundur nodded, looking to Nasuada who had sat back down in her seat. "Are you strong enough to do it or do you still need a bit more time?" she asked.
"Perhaps a few more weeks," she admitted with a faint blush, "just to be safe. But I've been feeling stronger each day."
She nodded. "Focus on getting better for now. When you feel that you're ready, let us know. We'll do whatever it is we can to support you."
"Aye, thank you, your majesty."
Nasuada looked satisfied with this and turned to the others in the room. "Right. Now that that's settled… Jörmundur, Murtagh, Trianna, do you mind waiting outside for just a moment. I need to speak with Halen alone."
Both men hesitated, staring at one another and then Nasuada. She threw up her hands, exasperated. "Oh, for heaven's sake, she's not in trouble. A moment, please."
That seemed to be good enough for them, and they both bowed their heads before stepping out of the room. Trianna stalled for a split second, looking like she desperately wanted to say something. Instead, however, she curtsied before quickly departing, looking immensely frustrated. When the door was closed behind them, Nasuada seemed to shrink a bit, and Hal saw for the first time how truly exhausted the woman looked. And the pain in her face was heartbreaking. Hal could see her wrestle for control of her emotions, trying to remain stoic and calm.
Empathizing tremendously, Hal leaned forward and reached for the queen's hand, squeezing it firmly. Almost immediately, Nasuada's eyes filled with tears and she grasped Hal's hand in turn like she was holding on for dear life.
"Have you rested at all since the siege?" Hal asked.
"Hardly. I can barely stand to do so. There's so much that needs to be done and…" She took a shaky breath, looking almost flustered. "I had forgotten what it feels like to be overwhelmed. Truly and completely overwhelmed. Things felt somewhat more bearable with Arya and the others still here to advise. But with them gone and communication so difficult…I've been feeling the pressure. I already know I failed to protect my people from the attack. Now, in my haste to try to make things easier for them as quickly as possible, I snapped at the one person who deserved it the least."
Hal gave her a wane smile, not wanting Nasuada to feel guilty. Before she could argue, the woman cleared her throat. "I wanted to give you a proper, formal apology. With no one around so that it did not look like I was merely trying to save face earlier. I have not even been able to see you since you awoke and my first words to you were an accusation. I'm so sorry, Hal."
"We all slip up," Hal assured her. "Even women as perfect as you and me." Nasuada let out a bark of laughter and Hal felt some of the tension dissipate. "You are forgiven, your majesty. I understood where you were coming from. I do wish there was more I could do."
"I know you do. You did charge into a siege against my will after all. Even I heard the whispers about the feats you accomplished. You have inspired many, some of my soldiers included. You, Murtagh, and Thorn. I fear we truly would've been lost with your guidance and support."
"You already did much of that work," Hal reminded her. "Those people were strong when I arrived because you showed them that they should live in a city worth fighting for. I cannot imagine the stress you are under as their queen, but these people have chosen to follow you for a reason. And you have surrounded yourself with allies who feel the same. Do not doubt yourself when you've come so far."
Hal tried not to flinch at her own hypocrisy.
Nasuada smiled, taking a deep breath. "I kept you here to apologize and instead you are the one trying to make me feel better."
"Well then you simply owe me a pass in the future," Hal teased. The two women separated and Nasuada finished wiping her face. Hal gave her an encouraging nod. "Can I do anything else for you, your majesty?"
"No. No, you have done enough. Go and get some rest. And please have the others return on your way out."
Hal stood and curtsied, exiting the office to let everyone know they could go back inside. Albriech had appeared, talking with Murtagh, who then turned to Hal and asked, "Everything good?"
She could hear the question behind the question, and she gave him a firm nod. "Aye. Everything's good."
"We don't have all day, Morzansson."
Hal whipped around, shooting Trianna a look of loathing that she seemed all too eager to return. Jörmundur must've already gone back in because he was nowhere to be found. "If you have something to say, then say it," Hal challenged. "You have taken every possible step to make it clear that you dislike us. If you are feeling so emboldened, then say what it is that's on your mind. If you are too cowardly to do so, then I suggest you learn to hold your bloody tongue before I remove it and hold it for you."
"Halen —" Murtagh hissed, disapproving.
Before he could finish, however, Trianna, took a step forward. She seemed to almost cow out of it, glancing back at Murtagh. But it was clear that Hal's challenge had struck a deep nerve, and Trianna did not wish to back down now.
"I don't know what you are, but I knew something was off with you the moment I touched your mind," Trianna began, her voice shaking and tense. "I know you aren't…human."
Hal had not expected that, and she froze in a state of panic. "What are you talking about? My mind is fine."
Trianna shook her head. "No. I don't know what you're hiding, but I knew then that you were hiding something. Both of you," she added, looking quickly at Murtagh. "First the blackened earth —"
"The what?" Hal asked while Murtagh flinched at the same time.
"—and suddenly you're the only person in all of Alagaësia still capable of doing magic —"
Murtagh immediately stepped forward and growled, "That's far enough. Leave. Now."
Trianna hesitated as her gaze flickered to him. Clearly, she was less inclined to cross him than she was Hal. But Hal stepped between them and repeated, "What blackened earth? What are you talking about?"
"Don't play coy. Everyone knows that it was your magic that destroyed the land, making parts if Ilirea unhabitable. How the queen hasn't yet been convinced to have you interrogated is beyond me. You are nothing more than a threat to security at best and a reaper of death at worst. Whatever you are, you shouldn't be here. And I doubt you should even exist."
Hal reacted without thinking and slapped Trianna so hard that the sound seemed to split the air around them like thunder. A few people turned to look, whispering in shock. Hal knew immediately she had made a terrible mistake. She had never resorted to personally striking someone, even in her anger. Normally she could brush it off, take her frustrations out elsewhere. But what Trianna didn't know is that she had struck deep into Hal's fears. The shadows in her mind that she had been ignoring for several months.
As Trianna raised her head, moving her black hair from her face, a red mark had already appeared on her pale cheek, and her blue eyes were engulfed with fury. "You may have the queen and her allies convinced of your intentions. But society will never accept you. Either of you."
She yanked open the door and stomped back inside, refusing to look back. Hal stood frozen for several moments, unable to process what had just happened. She felt like her mind was beginning to spiral out of every ounce of her control that she had worked so hard to maintain for so long. She couldn't think straight, her thoughts split between Trianna's words and how true they rang for Hal, while simultaneously trying to maintain a sense of calm and order.
"Hal," Murtagh began. She felt his hand on her shoulder and stepped out of his grasp. She turned and looked at him carefully, her expression hard.
"What. Blackened. Earth?"
…
"You look like you're thinking mighty hard there," Murtagh said, trying to keep his voice light.
Hal didn't really look at him. "A lot to think about I suppose."
They were guiding their horses to the castle's front gates, back in their heavy winter attire. Hal had pulled her hood up, letting her hair run loose over ears in the hopes of keeping them warm. She listened to the snow as it crunched lightly under their steps. It had stopped falling, but there were quite a few inches on the ground.
She glanced over at him to gauge his reaction to her response. But he simply stared straight ahead as though lost in his own thoughts. Hal turned away and did the same. This silence was not light and comfortable. This felt forced and tense. They had never really addressed any of what had happened yesterday, like Trianna's words, Hal's physical assault, or the fact that Murtagh hadn't mentioned this blackened earth that they were now on their way to see.
The guards nodded at them when they arrived and began cranking the levers to open the gates. Hal pointedly stared ahead as she climbed up on Shadow, feeling oddly detached. When the gate was open, Hal didn't wait for Murtagh, but urged her horse forward.
They rode in silence down the hill and towards the city. As explained already, the houses and buildings closest to the castle were still up, although there was something almost sad about them now. A few people darted in and out, wrapped in drab furs and linens, bringing firewood inside or whispering anxiously with neighbors. And they froze when they saw Hal and Murtagh, their eyes narrowing with disgust. Some even turned tail and went back inside, making a show of slamming the door shut.
"So, all those who still oppose us simply barricaded themselves as far away as possible without actually leaving the city," Hal said. Then she snorted with derision. "But of course."
"At least, out here, they cannot cause us any trouble."
They pressed onward, Hal letting her eyes wander. The area still standing because of her shield was much wider than she had anticipated. But the damage was still severe from the blast and the fighting. Snow had covered the blood stains, but it left the mostly abandoned city feeling eerily haunted. Hal shivered, already regretting this trip. But she knew she had to press on. She needed to see and understand for herself what had happened here.
After a while, her eyes and nose began to burn as the wind blew a foul stench into her face. She gagged, covering her face with a gloved hand. Murtagh grimaced with distaste, and even the horses knickered uneasily.
"Let's stop here," he suggested. "The horses won't go much further now because of the smell."
Hal couldn't blame them and followed his lead to tie them safely to a nearby post, a still-standing building blocking some of the smell that was carried by the wind. Murtagh passed her a spare piece of cloth, instructing her to tie it around her nose and mouth as he did the same. Once that was done, Hal burrowed herself deeper into her cloak and pressed forward after Murtagh.
Soon enough, Hal could see up ahead where her shield had ended and the destruction began. She stopped, unable to fathom such devastation was even possible. On the other side of where she had stood a few months ago, there was no longer a city. No buildings, no roads, nothing. It had all been destroyed, and since covered up by the snow. But the blackened and dead earth that looked like the ground had been horribly scorched was just as unnerving. Perhaps even more so. And Hal knew immediately where she had seen this before.
Hardly able to breathe, she stepped forward, stopping only when they reached the edge. Murtagh followed her, his eyes more on her than the sight before them. Pretending not to notice, Hal took a deep breath to calm her nerves, instantly regretting it as her eyes and nose burned, the foul smell now coating her tongue. Warily, she lifted her foot to cross over. She wasn't sure why she felt uneasy, as if stepping over would cause her harm.
But nothing happened, and she took an emboldened step forward, eyeing the eerie and empty landscape before her. Murtagh came to stand beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched, which felt intentional. He wasn't saying much, but he was making it known that even now, he would not leave her side. She wasn't sure if she was actually comforted by his presence this time. She wasn't sure if she was comforted by the fact that he knew that she had done this.
"I've seen this before," Hal told him.
"You have?"
"Yes." She looked over at him. "And so have you."
"I have?"
"On Uden, where Thea held me. The whole area was scorched, remember? It smelled like this too, but not as strong."
His cheeks were turning pink in the cold, and he shook his head. "I was too distracted at the time."
Right. Fair enough. "Well, the earth looked just like this. Although I never knew why or how."
His eyes flashed with hope. "Then maybe that means this was actually Thea's doing instead of yours. Do you think it is because she used such a powerful spell?"
Hal was quiet, his tone bothering her more than she would like. "And if I know for a fact that this wasn't Thea's doing, but mine — would that somehow bother you?"
He frowned, confused by her question. "No, but —"
"Then why are you insisting that this could've been Thea's doing? Why did you not tell me that this was even here? You were angry at me for withholding your mother's diary from you, and rightly so. But now you stand there thinking this wasn't something I needed to know?"
He took a moment to collect himself, his face hard to read behind his mask. He slowly began to nod his head. "You're right. In that context, what I did was no better. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to keep this from you."
"Then why?"
He looked pained, and Hal noticed that his hands were clutched into fists. Her chest tightened, bracing for, and fearing, the worst. "Because…because we never talk about what was done to you. About you becoming part…" He didn't say it out loud and glanced around warily as if afraid someone was suddenly listening. He stepped closer and said in a lower voice. "I didn't know if this was you or because of what was done to you. I was afraid —"
"You were afraid to be reminded that I'm not human," she finished coldly, echoing Trianna's words from the day before.
"No," he said immediately. "No, not even a little bit. But I was afraid that you would take it to heart. I know you've having a hard time —"
"You don't anything about it, Murtagh."
"Because you don't talk to me!" he retorted a bit louder. "And I don't…I don't know how to bring it up. There was so much I just didn't know how to bring up."
He looked heartbroken to even admit it, like he was ashamed. Hal didn't respond, her throat tight as she turned away from him and tried to focus on the matter at hand, fighting the urge to cry. She didn't want to have this conversation, especially not right now.
She licked her drying lips, nervously kneeling down as she peeled off one of her gloves so that her hand lay bare on the scorched land. Bits of her memory began to flood back from that moment. The feeling of being emptied and filled, emptied and filled, over and over again. She had used so much energy. So much life. She had an inkling that she now knew where it had come from. Hal closed her eyes and carefully opened her mind, reaching for what she had sacrificed as well as what still lived around her.
The difference was startling. The land that lived buzzed with an energy and life all its own. From the grass, to the insects buried deep in the earth to get away from the cold, to the people themselves they had passed on the way here. But the land that had died was empty. Frightfully so. She felt that expansive nothingness reaching for her, like death itself was coming to claim her. It felt as if it had a new life of its own, something darker and sinister that should not even exist. Something that had not existed, until she robbed it of every bit of life in order to feed herself and her magic. And for that, it was angry. It was hungry, baring a darkness that felt as sharp as a lovuk's teeth.
Terrified, Hal yelped in as she snatched her hand away and shielded her mind instantly, stumbling back to put distance between herself and the land.
"Hal? Hal, are you all right?"
Without thinking, she let out a wail of pain. Pain that seemed to mirror what she had just felt. She had never before in her life felt such emptiness, even in her darkest moments. It was so visceral, like if she had hesitated for a second longer, it would have claimed her too. She desperately clutched at her head, trying to block the creeping sensation that still lingered in her mind, like she had brought back some of the darkness with her.
She had done that. She had brought this land to a rotted state. Even though her reasoning was sound, and she hadn't known better, the fact that this was a result of her actions was…it was everything she'd ever feared about her magic. About Thea's magic, and the magic of their people.
"Halen, please talk to me," Murtagh said gently, when she finally quieted long enough for him to speak. He tried to coax her into looking at him. "Please, you're scaring me."
"Well maybe you should be scared," she snapped, rebuffing him. For whatever reason, the thought of his sympathy, of his compassion, made her angry. When he reached for her again, she knocked his hand away and stepped as far from him as possible. "Don't. Just don't."
"Hal, I don't understand why you're upset so please tell me. You wanted to see —"
"Thank you for reminding me, Murtagh, I'd almost forgotten."
He took a deep breath, holding up his hands in an attempt to calm her down. "I didn't mean it like that. I just…"
His jaw tightened in frustration, and Hal looked away, tears of shame burning her eyes. "The magic that flows through Alagaësia itself, gives it life and meaning and purpose. And the only people truly able to tap into this magic were so ancient, that they do not even exist in rumor or legend like the Grey Folk do. You've always felt it, Halen…your love of nature was no coincidence."
Thea had blatantly told Hal the key to her magic, but she had not even comprehended at the time that that was all there was to it. It was so difficult to process because the very nature of it was so simple. And its simplicity, she now understood, is what made it so dangerous.
"My magic predates that of the Grey Folk," she said, almost more to herself than to Murtagh, who was watching her carefully. "That is what Thea said that day on Uden. Before the ancient language was ever introduced to our people, we could manipulate the energy of the land and within ourselves to perform magic. I did it to make this shield. I would bet anything that Thea tried this spell on Uden, but she didn't have enough energy and it failed. The scorched earth is not caused by a powerful spell, but by a massive taking of the life and energy needed in order to create one. It's just energy and thought. Nothing more. This magic, my magic, by its very nature, is destructive."
"You can't honestly believe that —"
"But I do," she interrupted. "Nothing good has come of my magic when I don't use the language. All of this, everything that has happened, is because of my magic. Thea happened because of my magic. And it's probably no coincidence that she and I are the only ones left who can use it. She believed that magic was taken from us by the Grey Folk, that we were sealed away from it because they tied it to a language we didn't know. She probably thought this was some righteous act of revenge. But the only problem is that the Grey Folk probably realized how dangerous we were —"
"That's not true —"
"YES IT IS!" She hadn't meant to shout, and she curled her hands into fists as if to concentrate all her frustration there instead of at Murtagh. But suddenly it all just came pouring out of her, and she couldn't stop herself. "It is, true, Murtagh. Think of every time I've used magic without the language: a soldier died, I attacked you, I…" She felt her eyes fill with tears, hot and heavy with shame. "I killed that man in the castle. I took the air, quite literally, from his lungs. He suffocated, Murtagh. I did that to someone."
"What about all the good your magic has done," he countered brazenly. "You defended the Tenari and Ilirea. Hal, no one could have done what you did —"
"You mean no one human," she snapped.
Murtagh's expression became stoic and hard, and she knew he was angry at her for the accusation. But he was right after all. She hadn't wanted to talk about. She hadn't wanted to ever bring it up. The reason she hadn't wanted to ever broach the subject, sweeping it under the rug and hiding behind Denu's death or Thea's violence as a means of avoiding what truly scared her all this time. Because a different version of Hal existed now. One who could do things no human man or woman could. She had wanted for so long to pretend that wasn't true. To pretend that she was just like everyone else. That nothing for her had changed because she still looked like herself.
But that wasn't true. The truth of her magic, the truth of her existence, was proof of that.
Hal had wanted so desperately and naïvely to hold on to a version of herself that had not existed for a long time now. Without that familiarity anchoring her to the present, Hal felt the hope of a future she had clung to so desperately all this time finally go dark.
