Iris opened her eyes when the door latch clicked again and sat up stiffly. The burning pain was gone, faded into a dull, generalized ache, but she hadn't slept a wink since he left. She had been preparing for this. Micah gave no greeting, just crossed the room toward her and sat down beside her.

"How do you feel now?" he asked, his tone clinical and detached.

"Stiff and sore. The same as I did after I woke up the first time."

"Twenty-four hours to recover functionality," he summarized, withdrawing a piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket to jot that down. The sight made Iris' heart twist. She used to carry a piece of paper and a pencil around in her pocket to keep track of all the jobs she had to do. By the time she made it to Char's cave behind the waterfall, the paper was an illegible, crumpled mess. She let the waterfall take it and the nub of a pencil into the lake when she washed the mud from her dress.

"You're very thorough," she said.

"Knowledge is power. Magic is power," he replied, tucking the paper and pencil away and meeting her eyes. He smirked and cupped her cheek in his hand. "And what prompted that compliment?"

"I was just making an observation," she replied, her heart pounding frantically. She couldn't lose her head. Not when she had him hooked. "You said this amulet was cut from a giant magical crystal?"

"According to legend." He brushed his thumb across her cheek. "Why does that interest you?"

"Well, I was just thinking, if it really exists, if you found it, wouldn't that give you more power?" she stammered, dropping her gaze to her lap.

He chuckled and slid his hand down to her chin to tilt her face back up to his. "I see. You're trying to distract me from the dragons by dangling the promise of that crystal in front of me." His thumb brushed across her bottom lip. "Sweet little Iris. If that crystal existed, I would have found it already. But it doesn't. And the best way for you to delay the inevitable for Char is to make him believe that you are happy and safe under the protection of your adopted older brother, Jonah." He leaned in and kissed her, much softer than earlier, and she forced herself to sit still and endure it, although she couldn't help flinching away from his hand when it settled on her waist. He dug his fingers into her side to the point of pain, cradling the back of her head with his other hand, a mixture of gentility and aggression, and she had to fight the bile that rose in her throat as he drew the kiss out longer and longer. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still as cold and lifeless as always.

"You don't feel anything when you do that, do you?" she asked bitterly, trying not to breathe hard.

He laughed. "Not even lust. But you're mine to do with as I please, and I'm enjoying this game." He stood up and patted her on the head. "The war calls. Be a good girl until I return."

The door latched closed behind him, and she exhaled deeply, putting her face in her hands. Little bursts of warmth wrapped her in a comforting embrace.

"It's okay," she reassured the fairies, dropping her hands from her face. "I did that on purpose." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "He thinks the crystal doesn't exist, but it does. He thinks I'm helpless, but I'm not. And tonight, after he's long gone, I've got a little magic of my own to do."

The afternoon passed, and night came. Iris changed into a nightgown and climbed into bed. She settled under the sheets, took a deep breath in and out, and closed her eyes, taking the amulet in her right hand.

"Where are you?" she muttered.

The whispers were more audible than when she was being tortured, but they were somehow harder to reach. They were all around her, not in one location, and she didn't know which direction to take. Their words were nonsense. She tried following one, and then another, only to find that the voice she chased became louder while the rest faded away. This wasn't working. She needed all of them, all their wisdom, all their guidance.

Time to change tactics.

She took a deep breath and went straight up, away from the whispers, out of her body, up above the tower.

Follow me, she said.

To her delighted surprise, they came, surrounding her the way they did when they pulled her out of Micah's torture sessions.

Show me where the crystal is.

They led her east, as they had before, flying through the darkness of night. There was no moon; there were no stars. Clouds hid them all from view. The forest below was silent, devoid even of the occasional rustling of nocturnal creatures through the leaves. Iris frowned and followed the whispers across the plains, which were as still and lifeless as the forest. The open pastures gave way to fields of withered crops on the outskirts of a village. All the lights were out. Nobody roamed the streets. A castle came into view in the distance, and Iris followed the whispers past more fields of death, over a city, to the stone wall that separated the castle from the commoners.

Why are we stopping? she asked.

This is enough for now. You must rest, Iris.

I don't have time- she protested, but they were already leading her back, the scenery below vanishing into a blur until they left her back in her own body, in her own bed. She released the amulet and let her hand fall to her side as sudden exhaustion took over.

Iris was still tired the next morning, but she repeated the exercise again that night. This time, she made it past the castle wall to the front door before the whispers brought her back. Every night, a little further. She was making good progress, getting closer to finding the hidden crystal, a spark of hope reigniting in her chest, until the day the knock on her door came. It hadn't quite been a week since Micah left. He didn't knock. Char did. Her heart plummeted to her feet.

"Just a minute," she called, scrambling to get out of her nightgown and into a dress. She had been dreading this day, but it was all part of her plan, and she had to go through with it. She took a deep breath and opened the door. "Hello, Char."

"Hello, Iris."

His soft smile and tender gaze made her heart twist painfully. He reached out for her, and she flinched back involuntarily, her heart twisting again at the hurt in his green eyes.

"Iris?"

She swallowed hard and stepped aside for him to enter. "Come in."

He did, but his stride lacked its usual confidence. His eyes scanned the room carefully and landed back on her.

"It's not your magic lessons. Something's wrong, and you need to tell me what it is," he said firmly.

"You're right," she said slowly, dropping her gaze to the floor and steeling herself for the rest. "I didn't want to tell you last time you were here because I wasn't sure, but..." She forced her eyes up to his, forced the words out of her mouth. "I thought I loved you, Char. I really did. But I know now that it was all a response to what you did for me, and...not to you."

He looked as though she struck him. The shock and hurt on his face was almost more than she could bear, and she felt as though she'd taken a blow, too, but she couldn't stop now.

"I appreciate everything you've done," she said softly, the words acid in her mouth. "But I think you should stop coming to visit me."

"Iris," he pleaded. There was so much desperation and pain in that one little word that she couldn't look at him anymore. She turned away from him, swallowing down the lump in her throat.

"Please go."

"No." He grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face him, pulling her close and holding her tight. "You don't mean that."

"Let me go," she begged, pushing against his chest. It wouldn't budge. His arms wouldn't budge.

"I love you, Iris."

She looked up at him in shock. His lips met hers, warm and soft, but all she could feel was Micah's kiss, and she shoved him away. She couldn't stop the tears that sprang to her eyes. They blurred Char's anguished face and made her mouth feel thick.

"I'm sorry, but I just don't feel that way," she choked out.

He stood frozen for a moment, and then he turned and left without a word. She threw herself down on her bed, sobbing, her heart breaking into a million pieces. Telling herself it was better this way didn't ease the pain. He loved her. She knew it was true, but hearing him say it out loud made everything worse. He was safer away from her. Maybe someday he'd forgive her for this. Maybe not. She'd never forgive herself.