"Food is done. The day is still young. Let's see what you've got." Elias leaned forward in his chair, blowing out the candlelight and moving the salt and pepper to the side.

  "Not much since you and your mother had your fun." Sasha couldn't help it—she bit back the bile rising in her throat. It was time for the confession. "It was a nice touch, giving back what you took."

  "Don't thank me yet. Let me examine what you got from my mother first."

  He stretched out his hand, and she reluctantly placed hers in his.

  "The lines in yours glow, even though most of the magic has left you. Amazing," Elias murmured, trailing a finger along the grooves in her palm, touching each of her fingers. He closed his eyes, concentrating. "The magic my mother gave you is old—its traces are weak. You have to help me."

  Sasha knew what he was doing. She hadn’t been raised among healers to be left in the dark. What she couldn’t fathom was the strength of the power inside him. He was too young to hold such energy, and the orb had been too dark for him to wield such light.

  "I can feel its warmth. It’s in my stomach, but I can’t get it to my fingertips. It doesn’t answer me," she admitted, sighing deeply. She felt out of her element.

  "Hmm. I see. May I?" Elias asked, moving his chair closer to hers, his hand lowering toward her stomach.

  The air crackled. He was too close, his magic pressing around her like a blanket. She smiled and shook her head.

  "What do I gain?" she asked, stopping his hand. Don’t trust him, sister, Ivy had said. As if.

  "The possibility of fulfilling your first assignment. If you do it well, I'll give back more of your magic." His fingers crackled with the magic he had stolen from her—so close she could feel her own energy calling back to her. "If you fail, you’ll be stuck with only what my mother forced upon you, never able to use your own again."

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "You don’t know that." He was so sure of himself. He knew nothing of other healers—he didn’t even recognize the strength in Ivy, let alone in her. Why should she accept the help he was offering? "No gain, no touching."

  "So, you're a gambler?" Elias smirked, his eyes shifting in color, the yellow in them sharpening. "What are you putting in the stakes?"

  "I play by your rules now, but you owe me a fight. If I win, I’ll claim a favor."

  "You want to fight me?" Elias looked at her in disbelief. He shook his head. "Call me stupid, but I want to fight you," he said, laying his hand on her stomach. The green in his eyes vanished completely.

  She had agreed, so she gathered the magic into a tight ball, letting it burn deep inside her. The power she had inherited from the queen was like a dead leaf—timeless and earthy. It reminded her of her mother. Elias ran his hand across her stomach with an eerie smoothness.

  "This belongs to Aaliyah," he muttered. "I’ve heard of her, but I’ve never met her. It was taken long before I was born." He exhaled slowly. "It sings the songs of longing."

  "Longing for what?"

  "For death," Elias said. "Come. We have to go to the graveyard."

  They walked to a forgotten corner of the graveyard, where no one ever went. No flowers, no candles. The trees were old and unkempt, their branches twisting into the sky like grasping fingers. In front of her stood a lone gray stone, a single name carved into it.

  "Aaliyah," Sasha whispered. "The Keeper of Men."

  "She was well known. They all pined after her, like addicts."

  "And she kept them hanging around?"

  "Until death," Elias said, pointing at the smaller stones arranged in a circle around hers. "The magic you carry belongs to her. You have to give it back."

  "Give it back?"

  "Yes, Sasha. That’s what I want from you. When you learn to give, you will have earned. Not until then will you be able to call upon your magic."

  "She’s fucking dead, Elias!" she yelled, the sound swallowed by the graveyard. "Come on, give me something else!"

  Rage built inside her. She hated being weak. This wasn’t a test of magic—it was a trick of the mind. A puzzle he had set up to amuse himself. As far as Sasha was concerned, it wasn’t fair play. He never intended to give her power back.

  "No. I’ve made up my mind. I will heal you on my terms." He clasped her hands in his, his magic sealing her fate. "When your fingertips glow, I’ll know. Don’t come to me until then."

  He released her and turned away.

  "Elias!" she called after him.

  He stopped but didn’t turn around.

  "I won’t change my mind," he said.

  "No," she agreed, her voice steady. "But you still owe me a fucking fight."