“I hate to say you need to work on your songs.” His half-smile twitched but didn’t widen, though I couldn’t help something close to one myself. We fell into silence and I analyzed him, waiting for something—anything. But he just sat and watched the night pass. “What are you looking for?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
Why call him out on it? I wasn’t sure.
He looked at me, and the firelight caught on a flash of gold in his hair. A few golden feathers woven among the earthy-brown—the feathers of his eagle form. “Fine, then. A truth for a truth.”
I considered. “Alright.”
“I didn’t lie; I’m not looking for anything. I’m mapping the forest.”
“Mapping?”
“I can’t see as well when I’m human,” he murmured, looking to the dark again. “I mean, I can see normally. But I can remember the way I see as an eagle. I can see…better, yes, but also more, and it’s useful in situations like this.”
“What are you mapping for?”
“First, to be sure we get home without any trouble tomorrow. Second, to figure out which way somebody might come from. Where they might cross us.”
Brilliant and tactical—no wonder Idris had gone to him. “My sister sent Katherine to follow me,” I said. “Predicted I would cut through the forest and set her up to meet me here. She knows me as well as I know her.” Fighting each other was a mistake, on all our parts. They were the sole hunters I wouldn’t be able to beat, and I was the sole prey they wouldn’t be able to catch. We knew each other too well, knew each other’s moves and thoughts and intentions. They had the advantage of numbers, and of experience with their full magic, and that swayed everything in their favor. One against one, it would end in a stalemate. But my whole family working together…
“If your family is as intelligent and ruthless as I suspect you are, it’s going to be a bloodbath,” Kye said. “One I’m not sure there could be a winner of. Not if you fought on your own.”
I didn’t tell him that stopping Sarafine, acting through a puppet, had been pure luck. No, those words would never leave my mouth. “And as bad as my sisters will be, my mother is worse.”
“I figured as much.”
Our silence was grim, Kye staring and working on his internal mapping while I watched the dance of the crackling fire. I was bone-tired, every inch of me heavy, but sleep didn’t tug at my eyelids. It wouldn’t all night. Not with Kye sitting across from me. I suspected he had similar thoughts from the way he made no move to relax despite the late hour.
“I’m sorry,” he said, breaking the quiet. It was soft, a breath, and I wasn’t sure I heard him at first. He was watching me instead of the night. “About your sisters and mother.”
“Why?”
“Nobody should have to fight their family. Nobody should have to see their family turn against them.”
I almost looked away then. “Noble families are always at each other’s throats, and witching families are worse. I always expected it one day, I suppose.” I swallowed, “We weren’t raised to be close. And my mother—I…respect her.” I chose the word carefully, made sure it was the right one. “As a witch, as the head of a family, I respect her. But she’s never loved me, and I haven’t loved her in a long time.”
“Do you hate her?”
I turned aside, to the fire, the light burning my eyes. “Right now, yes,” I whispered.
A pause, “Why do you bother to fight them? It won’t be pretty, and it’d be easier to disappear. Find somewhere they can’t follow and stay there.”
Was that what he’d done with the warlords in the North? It sounded appealing, I had to admit. “No one can disappear forever. I’d have to face them sooner or later.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I’m not that lucky. Even if I was, I don’t want to live the rest of my life haunted by them.” I looked over but he was back to staring at the dark. “Was that enough truth in return?”
“I think it’s enough truth for tonight.”
The night was long and quiet. Other than the occasional snap from outside and the soothing whisper of the fire, nothing stirred. Neither of us slept, and we spoke when necessary. I was aware of Kye’s every move, every breath. Waiting for him to do something to confirm he was a threat or to change the stakes of whatever strange little game we were playing. The game of truths and lies and silence.
Kye wasn’t like the others, and if I hadn’t known it within minutes of meeting him, I was sure now. He was like Idris, maybe—clever enough to see through most lies and to know when to call them out and when to let them be—but there was something else to him. Something the other man didn’t possess, like a distant storm lived beneath Kye’s skin, behind his eyes. The perfect tranquility, perfect quiet and calm, before hell broke loose.
As we packed up at dawn, I made an effort to relax, to avoid looking at Kye too many times. He paused at the edge of the shelter, avoiding the sun. I stepped out and moved to meet his eyes.
“I’ve seen witches fight,” he said. I couldn’t read his tone. “Seen them drain the life from people. Not leave them bloody.”
“You assume I kill with magic.”
“Don’t you?”
The rip and tear of the blade in Desmond’s flesh echoed in my ears.
“Not always.”
He shifted his weight, like he thought about stepping closer, but the sun stopped him. “You say that as if you kill on a regular basis.”
My heart thundered, but I forced it not to show, and whispered, “I think you’re well aware that we’re not so different, Kye.” I started through the forest. After a moment, he soared past me and to the skies.
The icicle exploded.
I hadn’t touched it. My magic hadn’t touched it, as far as I could tell. No, that was sleeping inside me, the faintest flicker telling me it was there at all. Worn ragged and tired after Sarafine and the wolves. The protections I’d put around the tunnels—protections from the others, from the wild, from my sisters—hadn’t helped it. Yet here I stood, alone in a little clearing, flexing and pushing it, hoping for some reaction.
That hadn’t been a reaction I’d expected, and my magic hadn’t surprised me in years. Until recently.
I stared as frozen shards flew through the air, blinking when they struck frost and snow and sent droplets into my eyes. Not the deadly shards that had changed into blades in Katherine’s chest—just…icicle shards. Like any other.
It took seconds for the world to settle, that deathly quiet of winter falling, and I frowned. No fire kindled in my chest. No magic settled on my tongue. I couldn’t remember if it had when Katherine had died; I’d hardly been aware of my own body, so lost to the chaos and confusion. But surely it had.
Surely. That was how these things worked.
But words had always been how any complex magic worked too, and that was true no longer.
I drew another breath, slow and deep, feeling the frigid air bite my lungs, and let it out in a smoky cloud. Calm. Clear. Focused. Frustration did no good. I stood motionless but for my breath, in and out in a measured rhythm. I could feel the world moving around me, pulsing with power. Power sleeping deep in the earth and the bare trees, power bunching and crackling in the crystals of ice and snow blanketing everything, power whispering in every brush of the breeze. All the power I could tap into, by bloodright. My mind went to the basics, the first lessons I’d ever learned.
How to feel it. How to feel the different power in each object and understand how they could be woven together. To taste it on my tongue, and feel it spark in my veins and bones as I coaxed it out. How to wrap my own power around it and make it into something wholly new, fleeting but strong and beautiful.
I didn’t move as the magic rose in me. Painstakingly, like the sun creeping up from the horizon. Everything in me urged to use it, but I let it be. This was not my usual magic—this was something deeper, different. A lurking beast beginning to show
itself. The thought of touching it…
Its very presence terrified me to my core, no matter how much I tried to stifle the fear. It terrified me almost as much as it excited me.
I wondered if it could smell my fear like a beast could.
It proceeded, rising until I felt in thrumming through my fingertips, echoing the earth itself, the sky, the sun, the trees. Every muscle in me itched to move, and it took all my willpower to remain steady and think.
It felt as if it were watching me. Phantom eyes turned inwards, asked what I wanted.
My breath caught. I didn’t have an answer.
It knew. And then it was gone.
My arms dropped to my sides; I’d raised them, like my fingers were searching for something unseen. I closed my eyes and a curse slipped out under my breath. It was there, whatever had killed Katherine. Whatever I had in me that might help me make it through this alive. This thing I couldn’t understand but had to. I hadn’t given my heart to Nalcai, and yet some untapped power was in me.
Or was this simply what Nalcai promised? The same power my sisters had? A taste of it given to entice me into what they wanted?
I didn’t know. I couldn’t guess. Another curse broke from me, and I stomped through the snow to a fallen log blocking the way between two trees, where I’d tossed my pack; I didn’t trust leaving it in the tunnels. I knocked snow from the log and sat, staring at the forest. If it was so finicky, so hesitant to come and so quick to leave, what was I supposed to do with it? How could I trust it?
It was my power, my magic. It answered to me and me alone, and it answered without hesitance or question. That was how magic worked.
A scratching behind me broke my whirling thoughts. I twisted, scanning the trees. The forest was empty, silent. A squirrel running from tree to tree, or some little bird taking off; I turned back around.
To find my pack open at my feet.
I snatched it and bolted to my feet, digging through it with one hand. My sparse food, extra candle, dried plants and petals, the jewelry I’d taken to pay my way tucked safely beneath everything. I counted the pieces.
One missing.
A smart enough thief not to risk taking them all—but dumb enough to steal from me. And quick. Impossibly quick and quiet.
Maybe not impossible. Not for an animal.
I snapped the pack closed and slung it over one shoulder. No sign of life anywhere. My magic—my usual, complacent magic, so soft and weak-feeling now—creeped outward in a circle. Searching, sniffing out anybody nearby.
A flash of movement in a tree. I followed it, keeping every motion silent and careful. A slip of gray and white. I rounded another tree and found it.
A raccoon, ornate ring in its mouth as it clung to a tree branch. Its dark eyes met mine, and I lifted an eyebrow. The two I hadn’t seen shift were Enaelle and the mysterious Wesley, but I had no guesses as to who this was. “Whoever you are, drop it and move on or I’ll gladly skin you,” I said.
Its dark eyes twinkled, and then it was gone, racing along branches with an agility that caught me off guard. I followed, struggling to keep it in sight as it climbed and leapt and weaved—to get the advantage as it vanished in the direction of the tunnels. With my jaw clenched, I veered toward the shelter.
By the time I reached the tunnel entrance the raccoon was gone, a man standing in its place. He stood tall and wiry, silver-blond hair cutting across half his face as if he couldn’t be bothered with it. He watched me with a caustic half-smile and flicked my ring between his fingers with the easy deftness of a practiced thief.
I got no further than glaring before a hand landed on my shoulder. “This is Wesley,” Kye said, appearing from the shadows. “One of us. And he’ll give it back, of course,” he added, a warning laced through the words.
Wesley chuckled. “You’re the witch.”
“Neyva,” I said, never moving my gaze. I had my eyes on Wesley and every other inch of me focused on Kye, waiting for him to become a threat. His hand vanished from my shoulder—in place long enough to stop me from doing anything rash—and he stood with his hands in his pockets, relaxed.
“Neyva.” Wesley flicked the ring to his other hand, and my gaze followed it. “Here. I don’t need it, just wanted to see what you’d do.” In one swift snap it changed into nothing but a wink of silver in the air.
I caught it. “Wanted to see what I’d do?”
“You know—let it go, or give chase? It tells a lot about a person, what they do when some shiny little trinket is taken from their pocket.”
I gave him the noblewoman’s smile. “It’s a noble jewel, I hate to tell you. Few would let it go easily. Take it if you want; I only have it for the money it could get me.”
“As if I have any use for it here?” he asked with a laugh. “Wear it, maybe. Pretty girls deserve pretty things.”
“If I cared about pretty things I’d be in Acalta.”
He grinned. “I didn’t know witches wasted their time on noble jewels they didn’t care about losing.”
“I didn’t know raccoons could be so irritating,” I replied.
“It’s part of my charm. I’ll grow on you.” He started to walk into the tunnels
“I’ll still skin you,” I muttered, watching him go.
“I heard that,” he called over his shoulder.
I forced sweetness back into my voice. “Good. You won’t be surprised if I end up with some nice fur lining for my boots.” Wesley grumbled something I was certain contained a curse or two as he vanished around a corner.
I turned to Kye, who smiled faintly with a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s part of his charm. He’ll grow on you.” I rolled my eyes and started past him, but he stopped me with, “Neyva.” I waited, listening. Waited for a whisper of motion—none. “Enaelle left, but she told me if I saw you, to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
A shift in his weight; I stiffened and turned but found him no closer than before. Keeping a respectful distance, showing no sign of danger. “That it was a job,” he replied. The way his tone changed, controlled and flat, told me what Enaelle had been referring to, and that he knew too. “And to find her when she gets back if you want to hear her side of the story.”
I nodded, mumbled a thanks, and started walking, but he added, “What happened was between the seven of us and the witch who did it. I’m not opposed to you staying here, or with helping you with your sisters, but what happened—”
“I need to know if you want me to break it.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to justify myself.
“Be careful what you ask. You might not like the answers.”
“Duly noted.” I left him at the entrance, staring after me.
Fifteen
I was waiting when Enaelle stepped into the empty, dead end cave, the fire low and soft. The others were off occupying themselves, and I had claimed a seat to the side of the entrance. Nobody could sneak up on me, but I could make a quick exit if need be.
Four days and none of them had shown any inclination of hurting me, but I couldn’t stop myself. Only the protections woven around me at night let me sleep.
Enaelle was about as threatening as a rabbit as she entered, dress swirling around her feet and thick curls bouncing, and sat without a word a space from me. “You want to hear the story, then, I take it?” she asked.
I nodded, “Kye said to be careful what I ask. That I might not like what I hear.”
Her little smile held no happiness. “Yes, that sounds like Kye. I doubt many people would like this story. It isn’t a nice one. But if it will help you free us, I’ll tell it.”
“I can feel the magic on you,” I said. “And I can touch it if I work things correctly. Some curses come from strong but simple magic, but some are more complicated. Emotions get in the way and affect them, and that’s when it gets tricky to undo. So yes, knowing what led to this curse might give me the upper hand in unraveling the magic of it.”
She took a breath an
d nodded, hesitated, then began. Her coal-dark eyes locked on the fire, as if the gentle flames had the words written in them. “It was a job. I joined Idris five years ago—it wasn’t perfect, but the alternative was marriage to a man I didn’t love. We worked across this part of the country, travelling and chasing the gold and the adventure. We worked for the law and opposite it. It was thrilling, and even if we never had a home, they were enough. They still are, of course. But this job…”
The way she murmured it, lost a year into the past, sent a chill through me. “I never met with the person who paid us. Idris had taken care of it, gotten half our payment in advance. Which was common. I didn’t know the details. But I knew this little village was scared of something. I knew children would run to their homes when the sun began to set and lock the doors and windows. It was heartbreaking to see, and we were supposed to help them.
“We didn’t know what the threat was, so I spoke to the children. Children know more than their parents sometimes, you know. For days, weeks, I spoke to them whenever I could. Played with them. They didn’t like strangers, so I made sure they liked me.” Another smile flitted on her lips and she glanced at me. “I made sure they trusted me and told me their secrets. Some were harmless. Some weren’t. There was poison in that village, Neyva, in so many of the hearts in it.”
My throat was dry. “What did they tell you?”
“Plenty of things. Children tell plenty of things.”
I could imagine what I might have said to someone who gained my trust as a child. And what I might not have. “About the threat?” I asked.
Enaelle shook her head. “Nothing. I’m not sure they knew, or just knew what their parents had told them—to stay close, to come home quickly. But there was one little girl they wouldn’t play with, and she was the one I wanted most to speak to. But she wouldn’t, not once. She sat apart from them, quiet, and whenever I tried to speak to her, would look at me and then walk away. She was so…angry at us for being there. I remember her always angry, though she tried to hide it.”
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