“Kols?” It came out on a whisper, mostly because I felt foolish even asking. But everything was… a mess.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“You sound like Constantine,” I admitted quietly, biting my lip.
He fell silent for a moment, then cursed. “It’s the trial. It’s about trust. So you’re seeing me as someone you absolutely shouldn’t and wouldn’t trust at all.”
“Trust?” I repeated.
“Yes. There are seven ascension trials, each one designed to test different aspects of royalty and leadership. And the first one is about trusting those who support you.” He cupped my cheek. “The dark source is testing your ability to trust your mates, Aflora.”
“By making you sound like Constantine,” I said, leaning into his palm. Constantine wouldn’t waste his breath explaining the trial to me. He’d just wait for it to kill me.
Which confirmed this wasn’t Constantine at all, but my Kols.
My Earth bond pulsed in agreement, the link to him a thick root that connected our souls. That wasn’t something the Elder Midnight Fae could manipulate. He had no control or manipulative power over my Earth magic.
I brushed my lips against Kols’s mouth, telling him without words that I knew it was him. Then I drew back to look up at him. “What now?”
“Now we find our way out of this maze and wake up,” he replied softly. “And to do that, you need to follow your instincts.”
“My instincts say to burn the vines to the ground and allow the light to illuminate my path.” I always preferred the light over the night. But Midnight Fae were all about the dark.
He gently went back to his knees, then stood and held a hand out for me to help me up. I accepted, realizing as I stood that I could see his shadow clearly despite the blackness settling around us.
Actually, he was the only figure I could make out now that the twinkling lights above had been fully covered by the vines.
That had to be related to this trial—my ability to see the one I trusted through the obsidian fog.
“Where are the others?” I wondered out loud. “Why can I only sense you?”
“I don’t know,” Kols replied, a frown in his tone—a tone that still sounded like Constantine. “Zakkai thought your test would have something to do with Night.”
“Your familiar?”
“Yes. All the others appeared during your ascension, except for my Night.” A hint of sadness tinged his deep voice, further confirming this was Kols and not Constantine.
“Maybe we need to find him?” I suggested.
“I felt him die,” Kols whispered. “When… when I died.”
I winced, recalling what it felt like when I lost Clove all those months ago. I hadn’t known I could bring my familiar back. But Kols had been the one to teach me. “Have you tried calling for him?”
The silence that followed indicated his hesitation.
He hadn’t tried.
And I understood why.
“You’re afraid he won’t reply,” I said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “You once told me familiars are tied to our lives, that they only die if we do, and you didn’t die, Kols. Shade held onto your life strand long enough for me to give it roots.”
Which meant Night was still here.
He had to be.
Because Kols was very much alive.
“Try calling for him,” I encouraged, my voice low yet underlined in confidence. “Bring Night back to you.”