Lux [h.s]

forty-two

Some days later they reached a building hidden away into the woods.

"It's where we usually hide the Fair when we go overseas," Thalia said before Cora could even ask. "Nobody knows about its existence, so we'll be able to stay hidden and keep an eye on the harbour at the same time."

"We'll need to get food and drinks before leaving," Harry instructed.

"Shouldn't she..." One of the unknown fays suggested looking at Cora, and Harry gave him a glacial stare.

"We can't expect her to be able to make water for us all. She's inexperienced and I'm not taking any chances."

His words stung Cora a little, but she knew he was right. She didn't even know how long the journey would take, and she didn't want anyone to rely on her for their survival. Her magic so far was little more than a carnival trick, not enough for her to believe she was truly worth something as part of a crew. She was getting better day by day, but she knew better than to expect miracles.

Cora still had no clue of the meaning behind the crow's words; she'd spent days thinking about it, wondering which moment in time it was referring to, but the more she thought about it, the more confusing it got.

She'd given up on trying to make sense of it, but she couldn't shake away that nagging feeling that there was more to reality than what she knew—the truth was right in front of her, she just had to see it.

She hadn't seen the crow since, but she was sure it was close by. She could sense its lingering presence every single time she was alone. It made her want to strike up conversations with Iris or Harry to keep the silence at bay.

"I say you could provide us with water just fine," Iris murmured, sitting by her side, and Cora sighed.

"I don't think so."

Iris shrugged. "It's quite obvious to me that yours is magical water," she replied, "I don't know why everyone else refuses to see it."

Cora chuckled. "How would you know..."

"I saw you that one time at the river. No offence, but you weren't that good. And yet, whenever there isn't a body of water close by, you do wonderful things." Iris frowned. "I think you aren't able to manipulate what's already there well. Your strength resides in making water."

"And it's salty," Cora specified. "Like the sea. Harry told me so."

"I said you aren't bad, not that there isn't room for improvement."

Cora gasped, and Iris let out a laugh.

"Someone has to be honest with you."

Cora sat on the ground in front of the still-locked building. "I'm tired of this magic thing. It's more complicated than what it's worth."

"Is that so?" Cora turned around; Harry was standing behind her. "You should've told me earlier, you would've spared us both the trouble."

She sighed. "You know I didn't mean it like that. It's just exhausting."

Harry smiled and picked up a piece of wood. "Practice makes perfect, have I never told you?" He handed it to her, and her lips curved up when she saw he'd turned it into a wooden rose.

"This is one trick I'll never understand," she murmured, running her finger over its petals. It almost looked real. Almost.

He walked away, and Iris let out a low whistle. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he's flirting with you."

"Don't," Cora murmured, putting the rose in her lap and hiding her face in her hands. "I feel like I'm going crazy."

Iris laughed. "It can't be that bad." She took the rose and waved it in front of her. "Practice makes perfect," she quoted in a low voice, and Cora chuckled. It was so easy for him to say.