Grounding the Storm ✓

Chapter 47

These aren't my chambers. I'm not in Renit's or even Silas's. Instead, I'm laying underneath the magenta duvet in Celestine's chambers—stiff as a dead body. I'm sore, my muscles are rigid and my head is throbbing. To count all the times that's has happened since I arrived here is one too many.

My power drained me. This happens to witches who use up too much of their power at once. And I'm paying for it.

Celestine is sitting across the room, on the chaise, with a book in her lap. Not one of the books Silas bought for her but another novel with an ivory spine, cracked around the edges. With careful fingers, she turns one of the thin pages and explores the story without realizing I'm watching her. I study her frown and her eyes rimmed with black—she's pissed and she didn't sleep well.

The sun is high. I slept through the night and possibly into the afternoon. I've been down the entire morning, so much can transpire in that amount of time. Is Silas dead? That hits me solid in the chest as I recall the last thing that happened out in the courtyard. Foolish. I was so foolish to start a fight that was impossible to win. Against ancient, immortal witches, I didn't stand a chance. And I may have given the crown prince his death sentence. All because I felt the need to stand up for a stable boy.

Everything comes back to me in flashes, one moment after the other. Most of my soreness doesn't come from using the power of ground but Grounding Renit's storm. I used every single bit of what I had left to quell it and now, for the first time since arriving here, I can say we succeeded. Right after I had given up. His storm ate away at me, taking nibbles wherever it could to render me weak but my power ate his whole, all the way from the top to the bottom. From the studies on Grounding I've poured over occasionally, the ease in every attempt is noticed but that doesn't mean the strain stops. This could kill me.

My weakness isn't the only problem, neither is the question on Silas. The king is next and what he will have to say about what happened. This may be my final day in the castle if he decides I'm more trouble than what it's worth. Other witches of ground have to be somewhere in this kingdom and if he tried hard enough, the kingdom has the chance to find them.

Celestine flips a page of her book angrily and that's a sign she realizes I'm awake. I don't know who should speak first but then my inner thoughts slap me upside the head and say, you, idiot.

"How's Silas?" I ask. The first words out of my throat are dry. I look around for a glass of water, even one Celestine left out as common courtesy, but find nothing.

She shuts her book slowly and looks over at me with disgust in her eyes. "There's no word on the crown prince but Hallie and the other healers are working on him. I don't know if that's good or bad," she hushes. She wasn't up all night worrying about my waking but she was waiting for news on dear Silas. The entire capital is doing the same if they heard.

I don't know the extent of their relationship but after living in the same wing of the castle and seeing each other every day, they've become close. And Silas has feelings for her, there's nothing to say intentions aren't mutual. If I'm the one ruining their chances entirely, I will never forgive myself. Celestine is the true love he has the chance to receive as a prince and a king.

"Renit? How...how is Renit?"

She scratches at her cheek, a familiar, angered habit she picked up from our mother. Three simple scratches to her cheekbone before running a hand through her hair. The sight alone makes me sick to my stomach, I hate receiving flashes of our innocent mother. Wasted. Forgotten. Lost. And our father, a mortal who never stood a chance.

"Renit is fine," she mumbles. "Unscathed, of course. He carried you up here and dropped you on the bed like you were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. He ran off again to deal with Silas and the healers. At least he had the attention to summon a healer for you."