They settled into silence, listening to the crackling fire. The rain was still beating on the broken roof overhead.
“How did you know about the tornado in 970?” Innish asked Dale suddenly.
“From the History book we have,” Dale said.
Innish gave Dada a curious look and scratched his beard. “I didn’t think farming villages paid much attention to the kingdom’s history,” he admitted.
Dada frowned again, and Emeline could tell he was insulted, but Fish spoke up before he could reply.
“Bird here has always been a big reader. I couldn’t see the point in sending my sons to school, but my wife insisted,” he said, poking at the fire. Dada avoided Innish’s gaze.
“Dale and I like to read,” Emeline said defensively. She glanced at Erd again without meaning to and he winked at her, still smiling.
To her surprise, Rellum pointed a finger at her. “But perhaps you read too many old stories. That is surely what convinced you that you saw a Dark Creature,” he scolded. He cast a disapproving glance at Dada and Fish, adding, “Your father should’ve taught you that the Ithin aren’t real.”
The Equanian men stiffened, and Emeline felt stung. Her cheeks flamed.
“We saw it for real,” Dale protested.
“With all due respect,” Dada said sharply, “a group of rational men, including myself, went out to the woods to investigate, and something strange had definitely been there. It left behind the foulest stench.”
There were two rational women as well, Emeline added silently.
Innish gave Dada an intent look. “What kind of stench?”
“Like rotting flesh, but…worse, somehow,” Fish muttered. “It wasn’t right.”
Rellum scoffed and shook his head, and Emeline watched him, frustrated.
“Dada did always tell us that Dark Creatures might not be real,” she told him as politely as she could. “But then we saw something. And everything changed.”
“Our old folk have always told tales, but we’re practical people,” Fish declared.
“Yes, well, the Theurgists will gobble up your story,” Rellum told them with disgust. “They never require any proof, of course. No factual evidence! They just so desperately want to believe in magic.”
“Why?” Aladane spoke up. “Because it’s exciting?”
“It’s a craze for power, child. If magic exists, then so does magical power to hold over one’s enemies.” Rellum stabbed the air with his finger again, as if to curse someone.
Emeline squeezed her hands together. Maybe other people wanted magic because they wanted power—she could believe that. But what she had wasn’t dangerous. It wasn’t about power. It was peaceful and natural—she felt that to her very bones.
What would Rellum think if she showed him real magic? Should she, to show him he was wrong? Sweat gathered under her arms, even though she was cold.
No. The old man would be furious, and he was a powerful person, dangerous to provoke. He would just think it was a trick anyway, wouldn’t he? And if he did believe it…If he did believe it, maybe he would think it was evil. That she was evil. That she was crazed for power too.
Better to keep it to herself.
“Not everyone loves magic for its power,” Reese said quietly.
Rellum groaned. “Oh, I see you’re still hovering on the edge, young man. You’ll learn. In this world, you cannot trust anything that your eyes can’t see or your hands can’t feel.” Fish had said something like that, too, but now he looked confused as he stared at the fire.
“I guess His Highness believes you, if he chose you as a likely heir,” Dada told Rellum carefully.
“Yes. We’ve made so much progress,” Rellum said, relieved.
“And then someone tried to kill you,” Reese pointed out.
“Well, that’s where it stops being any of our business,” Fish said. “We’ll just tell the king what we saw—to abide by the law—and then take our leave.” He cleared his throat as if to end the conversation, poking at the fire.
Except there’s so much more to tell than you think, Emeline thought, staring into the flames.
She couldn’t keep hiding her secret from Dada, could she? If a Theurgist could plot a Sapient’s death for saying magic wasn’t real, then what might the Sapients do to her if she proved magic was real?
People were trying to kill each other already. Rellum Sapient was the king’s heir and he had almost been murdered. Her? She was no one.
She would have to tell Dada everything. In the morning, she decided—as soon as she could. He would know whether or not she should tell the king.
“Do we have to leave the capital right away?” Aladane was protesting.
“You hush,” Fish said.
Innish looked at Dada and said thoughtfully, “You may want to visit the capital’s academies, Mister Bird. Or at least a library.” Dada’s eyes lit up at that and Emeline smiled.
Thunder shook the old walls and everyone flinched, looking up at the roof. Rain was puddling around the tree root where Rellum sat, and he stood up with a sigh. “This is intolerable.”
“Are we going to have to sleep here?” Emeline asked.
“It seems likely that it’ll storm all night,” Innish said. “We’d do better to wait it out.”
“What, without dinner?” Aladane asked.
“Not unless you want to go out to the wagon,” Fish told him. The boys looked as if they were almost considering it.
“All our things will be wet tomorrow,” Dada said unhappily. He stretched out his long legs near the fire. “I hope that cover saves the books and maps from ruin.”
“And our clothes!” Fish grumbled.
Everyone settled in awkwardly, trying to make the best of it on the damp, filthy ground. Emeline curled up on her side, resting her head on her elbow. They were in for a long, uncomfortable night.
“I’m not going to sleep. There could be snakes,” Dale told Aladane. His friend muttered back something in agreement.
“If you’re planning on being a Lash Knight, Dale, you can’t be afraid of snakes,” Fish said carelessly.
At that, Reese suddenly laughed—a deep, warm sound that filled the room. It didn’t sound like a mocking laugh; she was surprised at how nice a laugh it was. Dale turned beet red and glared at Fish, but Emeline couldn’t help laughing, too. She sat up slightly and looked over at Reese, hoping to see his face in the dark.
“Erd, will you collect some rainwater to drink?” Rellum asked his driver wearily. He handed him a flask from within his robes.
The young man got to his feet and carried the flask over to one of the leaks in the ceiling. Emeline watched him, wondering why he kept smiling at her. Did he think she was pretty? She didn’t know him and she didn’t want to be smiled at again. Sometimes it was hard to be the only girl in the group.
Look at the village girl. Men would pay through the nose for you. Didn’t you know that?
She curled up into a tight ball next to Dada and told herself to sleep.
opened her eyes to a strange, dark silence.
She heard Dale snore, but still the air seemed empty, weirdly calm. The fire had died down to almost nothing, and her muscles ached from clenching against the cold.
Slowly, she realized why it was so quiet—the rain had stopped. There was nothing to be heard but the dripping of leaks and the sleeping noises of the men around her. Relieved, she yawned and resettled herself, wondering how close it was to morning. She could just make out the shape of her brother curled up next to her, and Aladane….
Where was Aladane?
She sat up, wincing at the pain in her side. Aladane had been next to Dale, but she didn’t see him anywhere now. Sleepily, she glanced around at the others and counted the shapes, even Reese and Loddril near the wall, but there was no mistake—
> Aladane was missing. Where was he? Had he gone out to the wagon?
A faint sound reached her ears from somewhere deep in the old manor. Unsettled, Emeline sat very still and listened. It was a scratching, rustling sound.
It didn’t sound like the horses. It was probably a small animal, but…She should find Aladane.
She got to her feet and stretched, trying to ease the pain in her side. None of the others stirred as she picked her way across the room. They would all be stiff and grouchy come morning, and there was only a wet wagon waiting for them.
She heard the scratching again. It was coming from the left, where the room opened up into a wide, worn corridor. She tiptoed that way, brushing against rain-dampened vines along the wall.
The old hall sagged, long and silent. Moonlight spilled through a yawning window nearly as large as a door, half-full of broken colored glass. The cold, wet air from outside made her shiver.
“Aladane?” she whispered.
The scratching sounded again from a doorway, an open one choked from top to bottom with leaves and branches. It looked like an entrance to the woods.
She stopped, alarmed. A cold drop of rain splashed onto her head and she flinched, turning to go back. Then something rustled in the branches.
Emeline caught her breath, staring in horror as the brushwood parted. The moonlight flashed on a long, wicked claw sliding through the leaves. Another claw appeared, moving jerkily, reaching outward. She stumbled backward.
It was like a nightmare. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t scream. She was a block of ice.
A hooded head shot out of the branches. Gleaming jaws—huge dead eyes. Sparks flew from its mouth—white hot!
She threw her arms over her face, green magic surging through her like a wave—powerful, sudden, uncontrollable. Something brilliant flashed.
There was a violent hiss, and she looked, unable to help herself. Vines from the wall had covered the Ithin’s eyes. With a gasp, she threw up her arms once more, and the vines flew at her command, wrapping around that terrible head. It hissed again—a harsh, grinding sound—and its frothing jaws snapped.
Someone grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back. A whip-crack broke the air, slashing across the Ithin’s snapping face. It disappeared in a flash, swallowed up by branches.
A strong arm hooked Emeline by the waist and dragged her away.
“Get outside!” Reese’s voice roared over her head. It was his arm holding her tight; her feet weren’t even touching the ground. She heard shouts from the others, the scrambling of footsteps, the horses screaming.
“Emeline!” Dada yelled.
More footsteps, running, and then a rush of cold air. There was Aladane, shocked, standing by the wagon. The others tumbled outside onto the grass around her.
Reese let go of her and she sank to the ground. Dada grabbed hold of her as the horses screamed again in the manor.
“Are you all right? What happened?” he demanded, peering into her face. She couldn’t speak. Her heart was hammering painfully on her ribs.
“What’s in there?” Fish asked Reese. He had an arm around Dale, who was only half-awake.
“Get clear of here now!” the knight shouted, but he turned around himself and ran back into the manor. Innish was on his heels, his spring-gun drawn.
“Into the wagon!” Dada ordered, pushing them along. “I think he’s getting the horses!”
Emeline saw Rellum standing in the grass, looking bewildered. Erd took hold of his arm and pulled him toward the steam-carriage.
She snapped to her senses as Dada shoved her into the wagon. “It’s the Ithin!” she gasped. “In the cottage!”
“What?” Dale exclaimed. Dada spun around and gaped after Reese.
“Get in, get in,” Fish said frantically. He vaulted into the wagon and reached down to grab Dada by the collar. “Come on, Bird!”
“We can’t go anywhere without the horses!” Aladane whimpered.
“We’ve got to at least hide!” Fish said as Dada clambered in under the wagon roof.
Everything was dark and still now, the manor’s rotten doors hanging open. Emeline couldn’t breathe. What was happening? There was nothing to hear.
After a moment, the horses trotted out in single file, breath puffing from their nostrils. Innish followed quickly, slapping their haunches.
“Where’s Reese?” Emeline asked Dada, worried. “He’s still inside!”
“What if he needs help?” Dale exclaimed.
“He’s got Innish. Be still!” Dada said.
Then a terrifying scream cut the air.
It came from outside, very close, and it was a man’s voice. Emeline’s blood turned to ice water.
“Loddril!” Innish bellowed. He mounted his horse and rode into the darkness.
Emeline felt herself dragged backward by Dada and squished against the wagon floor.
“Shh! Nobody move!” he hissed.
They were all on the floor now, a miserable huddle of racing pulses and frantic breaths. Emeline’s whole body ached.
Had Loddril escaped and the Ithin gone after him?
Were Reese and Innish fighting it? Could anyone fight it?
Morning will never come. We’ll never be safe, she thought numbly. It was raining again, light drops pattering on the leather roof. Rellum’s carriage door creaked open and then shut again, quickly; Emeline imagined Erd had rushed inside. As if a carriage door will keep him safe!
Then there were voices, human voices—Reese and Innish shouting to each other.
Her heart swelled with relief. Bless water, they were both still alive! Reese was alive!
“What…is…happening?” Aladane demanded, muffled.
“He’s dead,” they heard Reese call out to Innish. There was a tremor in his deep voice that Emeline had never heard before, and she shivered. Unable to keep still any longer, she pushed Dada’s arm aside and sat up, but all she could see were Ma’am Kayley’s horses standing untied and confused near the front of the wagon.
“Who’s dead?” Dale sat up too. He was pale as a ghost.
“Let’s get back to the road, quick!” Reese shouted. “Innish, help them hook up the horses!”
* * *
The first light of dawn was breaking when the carriage, the wagon, and the two men on horseback reached the Braedle Road. To Emeline’s relief, it continued to rain calmly. That should keep Ithin away.
After a while, Reese waved at Erd to stop the caravan, then he rode up to the wagon, a determined expression on his face. Fish and Dada just looked at him, fearful and exhausted.
“Loddril?” Dada asked, after a moment.
“Whatever that thing was, it killed him,” Reese said, his voice steady but grave. “I found him torn to bloody shreds behind the house. Butchered.” Emeline shuddered and covered her face. How horrible, even for a man like him. “That fool chose the wrong time to try and escape.”
“Was it the Ithin?” Dale called up to him.
Reese hesitated. “It fit the description.” He held up his coiled whip, and Emeline saw there was a scrap of cloth stuck to it—a scrap torn from the monster’s hood. The cloth had a burn mark on it, as if the Ithin’s very blood was deadly. She shrank back instinctively.
“Well, someone tell Rellum, so he can get off his high horse,” Fish declared, sounding less frightened than he looked.
But Reese said flatly, “Mister Bird, I need to speak to your daughter.”
She sank down into the damp wagon seat as Dada looked from Reese to her, confused. The knight must have seen the vines attack the Ithin.
He knows my secret.
Well. There was nothing to be done about it now. Emeline nodded and got up, shakily climbing out of the wagon; Reese dismounted, looking pointedly at Dada and Fish, and after a second, they let him pull her
aside, too weary to protest.
The knight fixed his green gaze on Emeline. His expression took her by surprise: His eyes were full of wonder, even…admiration. But before either of them could speak, Rellum opened his carriage door and stared down the road at them.
“Reese!” he cried out in a wavering voice. “What in the name of Olvinde did we just run away from?”
Reese raised a hand toward Rellum, asking him to wait. His eyes never left Emeline’s face.
“You have magic,” he said softly. He smiled then, a warm smile that lit up his stern face. And suddenly, he was undeniably handsome. “Real magic.”
Emeline blushed, her face burning.
“They don’t know, do they?” He jerked his head at the others in the wagon. She shook her head. His face grew serious and she felt the loss of his smile. “Listen to me. Tell your family about this, but no one else. No one. Certainly not Rellum Sapient. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” she murmured.
“Think of Rellum’s situation. He’s been named heir to the king. But if magic is real, his position…Well. It’s less than assured.” He ran a hand through his hair, frowning. “And don’t think the Theurgists will be your friends either. Just—trust me. Tell no one.”
He mounted his horse, wheeled it around, and rode over to talk to the Sapient. She felt dizzy enough to lie down, and frightened enough to be sick, but she turned to face her concerned family in the wagon.
“Dada. Dale,” she said, climbing back in. “I have to tell you something.”
“Heart?” Her father’s face was creased with worry. “What is it?”
She took a deep breath. “I fought the Ithin off with vines. Without touching them.” The rest of it came out in a rush. “Dada, I can move water plants, wet plants. I mean—I can make them grow. I can control them!”
The three of them stared back, not comprehending. “What are you saying, Em?” Dada asked.
“I think it’s magic, Dada! Elemental magic!” she told him.
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