I don’t know much about Feihrians, but I know they have a different kind of magic. It’s stronger magic than what normal humans possess, though not as strong as a wizard’s. Probably why Talon was able to help me find mine and why he seems to feel more than most people do. That magic accelerates their fighting skills. But I also know they keep to themselves. They consider themselves above other races and so don’t have much to do with the rest of us.
“This is it, Talon,” Shasa says, her dangling legs banging against the crate she’s sitting on. “The Arcs are going down.” She drives a finger toward the ground with the word.
He stares at her with that unreadable, carefully controlled scrutiny.
“It’s not just humans this time, either,” Shasa goes on, still sounding tickled that any day people will be fighting and dying. “I bet even the sirens will show up.”
Talon shakes his head. “They never leave their mountain.”
“They will now that the Arcs have a siren.”
“What!” My eyes immediately dart to Talon. Though I sort of hate the sirens, they let Talon go and offered me friendship. Not to mention they’re the least likely to be ruled of any creature I’ve ever known.
“How is that possible?” Talon asks, voicing the same question on my mind. He looks at me, though his question is for Shasa.
“Adrian,” she says with a shrug.
“Puh, Adrian.”
My brows shoot up. Hello? Still standing here! Who’s Adrian?
“I know, right? Adrian drank some tears and received immunity to siren song. He wandered close to their mountain, heard the song and pretended to be entranced. When the siren came for him, he caught her. Clipped her wings so she couldn’t fly, poured toxin down her throat so she couldn’t sing or even cry out.”
Siren’s wings are dazzling, like sunlight sparkling on snow. Their very being implies freedom, a defiance for cages. It’s just wrong.
“She’s his prisoner now,” finishes Shasa, smacking her gum around as noisily as she can.
“No wonder Estelle was so angry,” I say, staring at the goblet Talon dropped. It lies abandoned on the patchy, linoleum floor.
“What?” Shasa says, directing her attention to me for the first time. I ignore her and speak to Talon as if he asked the question. See how she likes being snubbed.
“When—” My eyes dart to Solomus, who has kept silent; to Shasa; and back to Talon, who probably doesn’t want anyone else knowing what happened to him. I’m not sure what to do with myself—there’s not really anywhere to sit. I keep folding and unfolding my arms.
“Estelle didn’t really relax until after you told her we were enemies of the Arcaians, remember? She tried to hide it, but she was livid. Vindictive, if you ask me.”
Talon nods as if he’s thinking it over, too. I glow inside, pleased to be part of a secret in which Shasa is not included.
“She hid that well,” he says.
Shasa laughs without humor and springs from her crate. “You’re joking, right? When have you ever talked to sirens? If you had, there’s no way you’d be here right now, Talon.”
“Chance encounter, I guess,” he says with an almost-wink at me. I shiver with the memory that it was the first time I’d ever been in his arms.
“In any case,” Shasa says, “I know where Jomeini is. That’s why he’s here.” She jabs a thumb in Solomus’s direction. “She’s his granddaughter. He’s going to help me get her out, with or without the tears. Then we can join the Feihrians in their march.”
Talon shakes his head. “I can’t join them, Shasa. You know I can’t.”
The tears tremble in my pocket, and my mind immediately ignites its defenses. What did she mean with or without the tears?
Shasa opens her mouth as if to argue with Talon, but the wizard cuts her off.
“It seems there is more than one objective in this room,” Solomus says, standing up. “You want one thing, perhaps they want something else.” His hand moves from Shasa’s direction to Talon’s and mine. “Never a good idea, to combine motives.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, standing upright. What does he know about my motives? Or Talon’s?
I can’t help feeling frustrated. Both Nattie and Talon said these tears are the most powerful ever shed. I’m supposed to figure out how to break some massive spell that not even the Firsts know how to break. But I’m far from home. My brother is being held captive. I’ve even lost my best friend over these tears.
The tears prod me, almost consolingly, rotating my attention toward the mountain at the city’s border. Soon, they seem to say. Soon.
“We all need a common goal, or there’s no sense in continuing,” Solomus goes on. “Trust me when I say that a lack of unity causes havoc.”
“What does that matter,” Talon asks, “if by gaining one of our objectives we help another accomplish theirs?”
Solomus opens his wrinkled mouth to reply, but Shasa suddenly doubles over and shrieks in pain. She slumps against a crate, sliding it across the floor. What the—?
“Shasa!” Talon says, going to her side.
“He’s found me!” she cries, her pretty face shriveled like a rotten peach. She kicks a leg out and breaks through the side of a nearby crate with a crunch. “He’s found me.”
Before I can ask who found her or whether she’s delusional or not, Talon bends to her aid, his hand on her back. Jealousy pricks deeper into my chest.
Shasa pulls at her hair and wraps her arms around her chest, rocking back and forth. “No,” she cries. “No!”
Perhaps she has some type of medical problem. Mental instability or seizures or something. That could be why Talon was so hesitant to tell me about her.
“Is she okay?” I ask. Solomus waves me away, kneeling in front of Shasa, caressing her face. Talon’s hand is still rubbing her back.
“Who found you, child?” the wizard asks like a tender parent.
“Craven,” she says before shoving Talon and Solomus away. Her face streaked with distress, she bolts out the door into the night.
"Anybody but me find that really odd?” I ask, directing my thumb to the open door.
Solomus claps his hands, triggering my attention back to the cracked walls and salty mold in the seaside shack.
“We need to relocate,” he says, hobbling over to close out the night. “And quickly.”
“What about Shasa?” Not that I care about her, but I’m surprised neither Solomus nor Talon seems to, especially after her little panic attack.
“Craven took her magic,” Talon says, peering out the window. Thundering footsteps march past outside, and I tense until they quiet. “She belongs to him.”
“Shasa traded my Jomeini’s tears to the gypsy for some banshing powder,” Solomus adds. “It hides her traces. She stopped using it so I could find her. It’s only natural that Craven would as well.”
“So why aren’t we going after her?” I ask. “You said she’s your friend.”
“She is, Ambry,” Talon says, coming to my side. “But she has to go to Craven if he summons her. She’ll just escape again. Shasa is good at that.”
“Besides, this is part of the plan,” Solomus adds. “This way she can check up on my Jomeini.”
The plan. So this has been Talon’s motive all along. Meeting up with Shasa, finding the wizard. Saving the maiden wizard. He could have told me.
Solomus hobbles to the dirty window and lifts a bony hand as if he’s going to open it. I can barely see the darkened ocean’s outgoing tide through the dingy glass. Now we’re going to leave?
“Wait,” Talon says. “There’s something—well, I do have a question. I just wanted to wait until we were alone.”
Wrinkles puff out beneath the wizard’s sad, dark eyes. His face is a calm painting of patience. Talon tucks his fingers in my jeans pocket.
“Do you mind?” he asks softly in that velvet voice.
My breathing hits the roof. I can’t believe what he’s asking. Is he cr
azy? I just got them back! These tears have a severe case of separation anxiety, and I’m the one who suffered for it. Not Talon. What if this old imposter tries to steal them from me?
I nudge my head slightly, hoping he reads the resistance in my eyes.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’ve got your back.”
He’s got my back, sure. Against a wizard. He sends me that dimple-teasing half smile, and my heart squeezes. Still, I’m not sure how else he’s going to check the tears. With hesitancy, I meet his hand and unearth the tears from my pocket.
“Are these the tears your granddaughter shed?” Talon asks. “Are they the ones Shasa sold?”
Solomus sniffs and taps his thumb and forefinger against his temple as if adjusting an invisible pair of glasses. He closes his eyes, and a spell I can’t see begins flowing in the air, causing the jar to hover inches above Talon’s palm.
No cries or warnings come from my jar. No visible change can be seen on Solomus’s face. But the wizard inhales, dropping his frail hands. As he does so, the tears bump back onto Talon’s open palm.
Then the outburst begins, the tears’ tantrum convulsing in my bones until I push myself those few steps. The sensation of being watched sandpapers my nerves, but I take the tears back from Talon. Talon flags his hand as if it’s wet, and the wizard’s eyes follow him with solemn, black scrutiny.
“Yes,” Solomus says, no change in his focused gaze. That gaze falls, and he adds, “So it’s true,” in a whisper that sends chills down my spine.
Talon discharges a sigh of his own and releases a rare smile. I’m dying to ask him. what does this mean? What now? But there’s no point. Not in front of the wizard.
“Keep those in a safe place,” Solomus tells me. The tears hum their agreement. “Come along.”
He ambles again to the window and in a sudden motion scoops his hand against it with a creaky sound. To my astonishment, the window shrivels in his grip. Solomus throws the window against the rotting linoleum floor where it hits and expands, showing a scene of trees through its now long panes of glass instead of the edge of the sea outside.
“Ladies first,” Solomus says, gesturing to me.
“Uhh…” I’m stunned. I turn to Talon. “After all the trouble it took getting into the city, we’re going to leave? Just like that?”
“We got what we needed,” he says in a quiet voice.
“You mean you got what you needed.”
Talon looks confused, his brow pinches along several scars.
“What about Ren, Talon?” I fold my arms. “I’m not going anywhere. I have to help him.”
“We have to leave. Craven knows Shasa was here. He’ll probably—”
“I don’t care! I’ve come this far. You said you’d help me. After I got the tears, you said we’d find a way to help Ren! And not just him, Talon. Remember all those people whose magic has been stolen? You said when someone was being hunted by Arcs you couldn’t just stand by.”
Talon blinks at me in dismay.
“Forgive me,” Solomus says, bending to the ground. He lifts the glass, and it slides up into the ceiling, making a smearing sound as if he just ran a wet hand over the window. “But Talon is right. We really need—”
I’m momentarily dumbfounded. This is magic I’ve never seen before—my brain double-checks to make sure I’ve really seen what I think I have. A breeze whispers through the wizard’s window, swirling with the crisp touch of earth and pine. The forest scent is infused with memories of Talon, of campfire talks, gentle and not-so-gentle touches, igniting a nostalgic rejuvenation where I want nothing more than to be back in the woods. With him.
But not like this. Not now.
“Ambry,” Talon begins, gesturing toward the open, door-sized window.
“No.” I’m sick of him pushing away the issue. No matter how he tries, he can’t make me forget my brother.
“We don’t have time for this,” Solomus says, nudging me from behind. “The door is fleeting—it will only remain open for a matter of seconds.”
My boot heel trips on the windowpane, and I nearly fall. Talon catches me and drags me the rest of the way through.
“No! You can’t force me!” I worm around, trying to dig my thick heels in, but Talon clenches me tighter.
“We’ll figure out a way to help him,” Talon says with some effort. “But we’ve done all we can here.”
The moist, saline air is exchanged for the scent of pine, and my feet drag on the matted dirt. A rectangular picture of the dingy, crate-filled room, the single table, the goblet Talon dropped, seems pasted in the center of the open tree-bristled night sky.
They can’t do this. I can’t leave now.
Solomus hobbles out, hunched over, his arms forward as if he has an invisible walker. The door is still open, and Talon’s grip at my waist loosens. I break for it.
Talon snatches my waist again. I rear back, magic raging. Lightning laps down my arms, but though Talon cries out, he doesn’t release me. Instead, he lifts me from the ground in time for Solomus to hobble over and pull the glass closed. He sweeps an arm toward it, obviously telling Talon to do something.
“What are you—no, don’t! Talon!”
Talon drops me, then picks up a branch, swings back and whacks the glass, shattering it into pieces. The view of the dingy room shatters along with it, leaving shadowed brush dotted with the occasional flower in its place.
Despair swells through every inch of me. “What have you done?” I ask.
Solomus ambles back toward me and places a hand on my shoulder. “We couldn’t have stayed, child.”
I claw free. “Why? Why did you push me through? Why did you destroy it?”
Ren—he was there. I had so many openings; I was so close, why didn’t I help him when I had the chance?
I turn to Talon. I can’t attack the wizard, but right now I want nothing more than to sweep out and knock my trainer to the ground. I move in, but as always, he’s a step ahead.
His arms capture me. I fight, though I know I’ll never break free. “Let me go!” I shout. “Ren! We have to find him. Ren!”
Talon holds me tighter, saying nothing, just letting me flail. Fighting against his hold is like fighting against a strait jacket. I fidget and kick, pounding his chest until every ounce of strength drains out of me, until I can’t stand it any longer, I can’t exist any longer.
“I’m sorry,” Talon says in my ear, pulling me against him so tightly that I feel every inch of him. Instead of basking in it, I loathe the embrace. “Even if we could get in, I’m not sure we’d get out again. When I said I was lucky to get you out before, it was an understatement. I have one or two Arcaian friends, but not enough to help me against thousands of men who want that reward when they turn us in.”
“Thousands of men,” I repeat.
“And Tyrus will be much more careful if he ever catches either of us again.” Talon’s voice grows more desperate. “I know I said we’d help Ren, but I don’t see how.”
“So what are we supposed to do, forget about him? Let him go?”
Talon releases me. “We’re going to wait here until we can help Shasa rescue Jomeini.”
I take a single step away from him. Unbelievable. “You’ll help her, but not me? And yeah, what about Shasa, Talon?”
He sniffs and stands a little straighter. “She kissed me, Ambry. Not the other way around.”
“But you obviously know her well enough for her to feel okay about doing that.” He wouldn’t have been so hesitant to tell me about her otherwise.
“She’s an old acquaintance,” he says. His black boots close the distance to mine. I stare at the muscles along his forearms. I can’t bring myself to look at his face.
He directs my gaze to his with a thumb and forefinger pinch on my chin. Usually I’m a futz for those eyes—for anything about him, really. But not this time. “You’re my girl, Ambry Csille. Not her. And I swear, if I thought I could help Ren, I would.”
�
�I found us a decent spot for the night,” says the wizard before I get a chance to reply. He limps through several trees and joins us once more.
I don’t know what to say to Talon. He sounds sincere enough, but he promised me. He promised. He could have told me about his plan, about Shasa and Jomeini. But he didn’t.
I welcome the wizard’s interruption and follow the old man back through the trees.
"Cold, isn’t it?” Solomus asks, staring at Talon and me. Talon swallows. I fold my arms. We stand there in silence, and I wait for it. Any minute now the wizard will apologize for forcing me here. For not caring about Ren.
Solomus pulls a small chair from his pocket and throws it to the ground where it expands to full size like the window did. He sinks into it before it settles open completely.
“This is it,” says the wizard. “Don’t want to go too far in. Shasa needs to be able to find us.” He shoots a hand toward a nearby pine. Flames light over his arm and ignite the trunk. The air blazes with sudden heat, and the tree falls to its side, directly between Talon, Solomus, and me, shaking the air with a fiery gust. I cough at the pine-tinted dirt and glare at him.
“Right,” Solomus mumbles, looking at us over the huge hunk of flaming tree. “You’re probably right. Too big.” He leans back on the hind legs of his chair, eyeballs the tree and spreads his arms. His chin disappears into his neck. He brings his hands together, and the tree shrinks to the size of a regular fire.
Though I welcome the heat, I shake myself. This is what a wizard is like?
“The tears,” Solomus goes on. A sigh passes his lips. At his mention of them, my instincts set into protective mode, and I tense. It’s no wonder he doesn’t care about Ren. He stole our emotions, and I don’t see him groveling for that offense.
“I never thought my grandbaby would be the one.”
“The one what?” Talon asks.
“To push the boundaries. Jomeini was always such a pleaser. Always did everything I said. Never thought her tears would be the rebellious ones.”
“They’re not the only ones that have ever broken through,” I say a little caustically.
Such A Secret Place (Stolen Tears Book 1) Page 22