A Battle of Blood and Stone (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 4)

“Birthdays are irrelevant here,” she says flatly. “Time has no meaning.”

My heart aches for my twin. I want to tell her how wonderful birthdays are and that chocolate cake with buttercream frosting is my favorite, but I’d be willing to try all the flavors with her to find out what she likes if she’ll just come to the Earth realm with me.

But that’s too much for her to even process.

Instead, I keep her focused on the feather connecting us. “My feather seems to hold some of my powers—or rather, it helps to control them. I haven’t quite figured it out yet.”

“You have powers?” she asks dubiously.

“I was given powers at my birth after you were taken, but I didn’t really learn to use them well until recently. An angel gave them to me. I assume the feather is maybe a symbol of the angel because they have wings.”

But come to think of it… Sarvel didn’t have wings. Of course, she could have them hidden, I suppose, but she’s not a divine angel so maybe not. I shrug it off, not needing to get sidetracked with something that’s irrelevant. The fact is, both Zora and I have matching feathers on our legs that appeared when the changeling ritual was completed.

“Do you have powers?” I ask. I strongly suspect she does since I was filled with some sort of dark power the day Deandra and I got into it.

Zora doesn’t respond, which means she most likely does and doesn’t trust me enough to share.

“No matter,” I say brightly. “I have enough for us both, and I’ll share anything with you. Do you have any questions about the Earth realm or about me?”

“No,” she replies flatly, and my heart sinks. I never envisioned our reunion would go like this or that she wouldn’t want to immediately escape.

I decide to change tactics, so I move away from family issues. “Do you know what Kymaris has planned in the Earth realm?”

Of course, I already know this answer, but I want to know if Zora knows anything.

Or, as Carrick and Rainey have both pointed out, find out if she’s in collusion with Kymaris.

“Kymaris is death and destruction,” Zora says in a low voice that’s not fearful, but maybe cautious. “You can figure it out.”

I swallow hard. “Do you support what she’s doing here?”

“I already told you I don’t care about the Earth realm,” she retorts.

“I didn’t ask that,” I reply calmly. “I asked if you support what she’s doing?”

When I’m met with silence, I’m disappointed to have hit a wall again, but then she replies, “No. I don’t support anything she does.”

Hope sparks within me. Just one tiny nugget of information that tells me there’s a possibility with my sister.

“Will you please come to the Earth realm?” I ask, and I can’t hide the pleading in my voice.

“No,” she replies.

“Can I come see you then?” My heart is pounding, because if she declines and the conversation ends, I promised her I wouldn’t bother her anymore.

“Why?” Her voice is dull and unenthused.

“Why?” I repeat, struck she’d even question my motivation. “Because you’re my sister. My twin. I love you, and I want to know you.”

Zora laughs, and it’s scathing and brittle. “All things irrelevant here.”

“Make them relevant,” I demand angrily. “Give it a try.”

There’s no response. Wherever this dark place is that I’m sitting while talking to my twin, I can feel her pulling away or I’m getting shoved somewhere else.

“Has anyone ever cared about you there?” I ask desperately. “Please tell me you at least have someone you can rely on and you’re not utterly alone.”

After a heavy pause, Zora says, “There is someone I trust. Who has helped me.”

I sigh with relief. At least she has someone, although I can’t imagine a Dark Fae having any type of care toward a human. But she’s not alone, which is a comfort.

“Can I contact you again?” I ask timidly, then I cringe as I wait for her reply.

I don’t get one.

Instead, I’m shoved violently out of the dark space. For the briefest of moments, I can see through Zora’s eyes and I can tell she’s heading out the door of what I assume is her miserable little home. I get a flash of the underground city I’d seen in my dream, and then I’m tumbling through gray mist again.

When I open my eyes, Carrick sighs in relief before bending his head and pulling my hands up to his mouth to kiss.

“Well?” His eyes are filled with determination to handle whatever emotions I might have.

“She doesn’t like me very much,” I reply with a bitter smile.

After I recount our conversation, Carrick tells me, on his end, that I merely sat quietly with my eyes opened except for our brief communication when I first connected.

“It’s weird,” I say as I play the entire experience back in my head. “I was with her… inside her conscience or whatever, but I still knew I was here. I could feel your hands, and I was reassured to know you were there. I could communicate with you.”