I shook my head at Lorian. He gestured toward his mount once more, his lips thinning when I didn’t immediately move.
I ignored his imperious gesture. “You didn’t tell me we’d be
sharing a horse.”
Lorian crossed his arms. “Did you see any spare horses with us, sweetheart?”
I sucked in a breath, squinting into the early morning light. “Don’t call me that.” Planting my hands on my hips, I attempted to look threatening. “I can share with one of the other men.”
Maybe Rythos. He’d been nice so far. And unlike with Lorian, my hand didn’t itch to wrap itself around his throat every time he spoke.
Lorian leaned closer, his eyes narrowed. “My horse is the largest and the most suitable for carrying two people, even if one of them is as scrawny as you.”
“We can’t all be oversized brutes.”
He flashed his teeth at me. “Get in the saddle before I put you there myself.”
I sniffed and swung my leg over the horse’s rump, almost kicking Lorian in the face. Unfortunately, he stepped out of my foot’s path.
Next time, I’d swing wider.
His huge body landed in the saddle behind mine. I should’ve told him to mount first. I’d much rather be the one holding on to him than have his huge arms caging me in.
Lorian didn’t give me the option. His arms came around my waist and gripped the reins. His body was so big, I was instantly surrounded by him. His masculine scent wound up my nostrils, and I forced myself to breathe through my mouth, ignoring the way he leaned close as he stroked his horse.
The man was oversized, with biceps larger than my thighs. From what I’d seen so far, he wasn’t exactly a lumbering oaf either. No, he moved panther-silent and far quicker than a man of his bulk should have been able to.
That made him exceptionally dangerous.
For now, at least, it meant he was a lethal threat to anyone who would stop me from fulfilling my end of our bargain. Somehow, he’d become the man most likely to keep me alive—at least for the next few days. How ironic.
With a nudge of Lorian’s heels, we were immediately moving back down the narrow forest path.
This part of the forest was dark and overgrown, with the vines intertwining and fighting for space. The tree limbs were like gnarled hands
—broken fingers grasping at the denser foliage.
It was dead quiet except for the occasional creak of a branch or the snap of a twig. As if the forest was holding its breath, waiting.
“You need to relax,” Lorian told me. “You’re annoying my horse.”
I blew out a breath, the tightness in my chest letting me know I’d held it for too long. “We need to travel faster,” I muttered.
“The king’s guards don’t know about this route. Yes, we need to move quickly, but we don’t need to panic. The faster we travel, the more often we need to rest the horses.”
I knew that. But I also knew that if we were caught, I was dead. These men? They had survivor written all over them. Anyone taking one look at them would know they were made to get out of the worst kinds of
situations. And I’d be an idiot to imagine they wouldn’t sacrifice me if it gave them even a few minutes of extra time to run.
Me? It was a miracle I was alive. If not a miracle, then a string of luck. But neither miracles nor luck could be counted on. And neither could the mercenaries, who were somehow convinced I could help them achieve their own goals. I was the only one who was going to ensure I kept breathing.
Eventually, my muscles began to ache from holding myself so stiffly. I rolled my shoulders and forced myself to relax as much as I could.
At least I had clothes now. The men had come up with shirts, a pair of breeches that I’d rolled up until they no longer dragged on the ground— even some massive boots that I could barely walk in. Thankfully, Rythos had given me a few pairs of socks to push into the bottom of the boots so I wouldn’t fall on my face.
I was in a better position than I’d been yesterday—despite the oversized annoyance on the horse behind me. I could at least be thankful for that much.
Once the path had widened enough, one of the men pulled his horse up next to ours. He was younger than most of the others, likely around Rythos’s age. His hair was slightly longer than Rythos’s and carelessly pushed back, displaying a broad forehead. He rode like he’d been born on a horse, and his dreamy brown eyes made me wonder exactly what he was thinking.
He gave me a surprisingly sweet smile. “I’m Cavis.”
“Prisca. Where are you from?” I asked, suddenly curious. He had the slightest accent.
I was watching him carefully, so I caught the flicker of his eyes toward Lorian.
“If you’re going to lie to me, don’t bother,” I muttered. “Prickly woman,” Lorian murmured in my ear.
I shrugged, craving my own space.
He obviously caught on, because he leaned even closer into my personal space. “Cavis’s wife just gave birth to their first child.”
Cavis beamed, and if a man could burn with pride, he would have lit the forest around us on fire. “A daughter.”
I couldn’t help but smile too. “Congratulations. Do you mind if I ask what kind of magic you have?” Subtle. But I may as well ask now, while the man was answering some of my questions.
Lorian tensed behind me, but he didn’t stop Cavis from answering. Some of the brightness left Cavis’s smile. “I’m good at languages.” “Good at languages?”
Marth laughed behind us. “He means he can understand every language spoken in this kingdom—and every other.”
“Now that sounds like a helpful skill for a mercenary.”
Cavis’s eyes widened slightly, and he glanced past me to Lorian.
Whatever he saw on the brute’s face had him nodding and falling back.
Marth took his place. “And what can you do?” I asked him. He gave me a slow smile.
“I get glimpses of a person’s past.”
Curiosity prickled at the base of my neck and I opened my mouth, but Lorian had already gone still behind me.
“Enough,” he rumbled.
More secrets. I gave up, turning my attention to my own thoughts.
Unfortunately, those thoughts consisted of imagining Mama’s last moments and picturing Tibris in all kinds of terrible situations, my mind asking questions I couldn’t answer, over and over again.
We stopped before sunset. Lorian swung his leg over the horse, offering me his hand. I was so stiff, I took it, and he slid his other hand around my waist, helping me dismount. I’d expected to feel repulsed at his touch, but his huge hands were oddly comforting.
The bank to our left was high and steep. It would give the horses some protection from predators, while the tall oaks would shelter them from the elements. To our right, the river beckoned. We’d be able to bathe, although I knew just how cold that water was.
“Why have we stopped?” We could likely have traveled for a few more hours. My skin itched with the need to put more distance between us and the guards.
The other men began setting up camp, Rythos and Marth disappearing into the forest—likely to find wood and hunt for dinner.
Lorian eyed me. “This is a good clearing for us to rest. Besides, you need to practice with your power.”
I flinched, my gaze swinging around the forest behind us, as if someone would hear the word and arrest me for treason.
Lorian waited until I’d glanced back at his face. “Sit for a few minutes while I see to the horses, and then we’ll get started.”
I nodded, watching as Rythos returned, carrying a pile of wood. “Can I help?”
Rythos slid me his easy grin. “Nope.”
I watched as he strode to his horse, bringing the tiny lantern he carried everywhere back with him, along with a small bucket. Both hung off the side of his saddle.
“Why do you carry that with you? And more importantly, why does the fire in the lantern never go out?”
“It’s fae fire,” he murmured. I stared at him, and he shrugged, as if carrying around something the fae used was a normal occurrence. “People from Gromalia use fae gifts every day without being labeled sympathizers.”
What must that be like? Such a thing was unimaginable in Eprotha.
I couldn’t help but sidle closer to Rythos, intrigued despite my efforts to ignore the flames.
“What does fae fire do?”
He smiled. “Once it catches, it never goes out.”
“Sounds dangerous.” It also sounded incredibly helpful.
“It is. It’s also one of the best ways to ensure you can always light a fire when you’re traveling. Some people even use it in the city—right beneath King Sabium’s nose.”
Those people were literally risking life and limb to do such a thing. I couldn’t understand it.
“If it never goes out, how do you douse it each morning?”
“A plant called damask weed, dried and ground into a fine powder.” Rythos picked up a tiny bag. “Just a pinch mixed into a bucket of water, and it’s extinguished.”
Dangerous, indeed. And a good way to accidentally burn a village or town to the ground.
“How do you know if it’s fae fire and not normal fire?”
He smiled and lifted the lamp. In it, the flame burned like any other. But as I peered at it longer, the center of the flame appeared almost…purple.
“That color is impossible to fake,” Rythos said.
In my village, we’d been taught that anything to do with the fae was… sinful. After all, the gods had helped us humans in our war against them.
“Let’s go.” Lorian jerked his head, and I got to my feet, my stomach roiling with nerves. Rythos sent me a sympathetic look, and I chewed on my lower lip as I followed Lorian toward the river.
He stopped a few feet from the water and surveyed me, his green eyes so dark they appeared almost black. “Tell me about the last time you used your power. What went wrong?”
I licked suddenly dry lips, considering how much to tell him. “I worked in a bakery in my village. A man named Kreilor had a…feud with another villager, and he was threatening the villager’s sister. He was…hurting her.”
The backs of my eyes burned. Now, my mother was dead, and if Tibris was still alive, he was in just as much danger as I was. I’d made the situation so much worse.
“Focus,” Lorian demanded. “We don’t have time for your self-pity.” Gods, I’d never known such a cold, vicious bastard. My tears dried up,
replaced by fury.
Lorian just nodded. “Good. How large of an area did you freeze?” “Freeze?”
He gave me a look that told me he was attempting patience, but my stupidity was making it difficult. I wondered what his nose would look like if I broke it.
Lorian smiled slowly, as if reading my mind. He gestured for me to sit on a large rock and stood in front of me.
“You may be ignorant about your power, but by now, you know you can stop time. An incredibly rare gift that would be in great demand if you were captured.”
I frowned at that. “I can…stop time for a few seconds at the most.” “For now. Tell me more about what led you here.”
“Chista saw me. She was the one I was trying to help. She ran to one of the guards. I’d always been good to her,” I muttered. “My brother taught her to defend herself.”
“Never underestimate what people will do when it comes to coin. Expecting others to uphold your moral standards will leave you disappointed every time.”
Life lessons from the mercenary.
“Your power manifests when it senses a threat,” he said.
That made sense. Each time in the past had been when I was suddenly surprised or in tremendous danger. “Is that normal?”
He shrugged. “Small children come into their power that way. You likely would have displayed it as a child when startled or afraid.”
I was silent. Speaking about my power didn’t come naturally. Part of me wondered if this was a way for him to gather more information before he sold me out to the guards.
He just watched me with those cool green eyes. “You did, didn’t you?”
I turned my gaze to the water. Lorian took a step closer. “You need to tell me everything if I’m going to help you learn how to wield your magic. Your history with it is important.”
I sighed. “Yes, I used it when I was afraid. It was one of the reasons why we moved villages so frequently when I was a small child. My mother is—was—a seer, and my father was a mind healer, so we were always welcome.”
My eyes prickled at the thought of my family, and I blinked quickly. I could fall apart later. Alone. In the dark.
Lorian’s brow was lowered, as if he was either annoyed or deep in thought. With the mercenary, it was difficult to know.
I took a deep breath. “I need you to explain why I still have my… power.”
He narrowed his eyes at the way I whispered that last word, but thankfully, he let it go. “Are you sure you want to know the answer to that question? Once you understand just how you and others like you have been lied to, there is no turning back. Something tells me someone like you would much prefer ignorance.”
Someone like me. As if I’d wanted to grow up with power I couldn’t understand, knowing that any day, I could lose everything. I shot to my feet and slammed my hands into Lorian’s chest. “You don’t know me,” I hissed.
He stared at me. Then a slow smile crawled across his face as he shook his head. “You’re not ready.”
“You don’t get to determine that.” Knowledge was power, and I needed as much power as I could get.
“I’ll tell you what you want to know when you’ve mastered your power.”
I gaped at him. “You can’t be serious.”
Lorian just leaned down and picked up a stone, throwing it into the air. “Freeze it.”
It hit the ground with a thump.
He tutted, the sound filled with impatience, and lifted the stone once more. “Try.”
I tried. I truly did. I focused on the stone, attempting to find that place inside me that would make them freeze. Lorian threw the stones up again and again, until I was so exhausted, my hands shook. But nothing happened.
I was a failure. My power was my only bargaining chip—the only way I could keep myself safe—and I couldn’t wield it.
Lorian picked up the stone. And this time, he threw it at me. I ducked out of the way. “What in the—”
Another stone. Slightly larger this time. It bounced off my right breast. “What is your problem?”
He looked bored. But his eyes glittered with amusement and something darker. “If you need to feel afraid, I can make that happen.”
“By throwing rocks at me?”
This was useless. He was useless. And I was the most useless of all. I turned and stalked away.
As much as I usually enjoyed being out in the wild, away from my brother’s expectations, traveling with a woman was a new and entirely unwelcome experience.
She’d insisted on bathing in the freezing river that morning, almost turning blue. Her body was so slight compared to ours, even Galon had scowled at her shivering when she’d returned. If he’d had another cloak, I had no doubt that Galon—the man with one of the highest kill counts of anyone I knew—would have tucked it around her shoulders himself.
Then there were the endless questions. Always, always the questions.
Why the wildcat seemed to think she was owed answers to those questions was the biggest mystery of all. Finally, when she’d worn herself
out, she’d fallen silent, likely sulking.
I frowned down at her. It had taken her entirely too long to realize we hadn’t turned off to travel east to the city. Her head lolled, and for a moment, panic slammed into my gut. Was she…dead?
We needed her power at the city gates.
And…if I was being honest with myself, the thought of her dying was… disconcerting.
The back of my neck itched at the thought. Oh, she was good.
The only reason I cared was likely because she’d been continually poking at me, implying I was the worst kind of man for leaving her by that river.
I surveyed her. No, she’d fallen asleep in my arms. What an unusual creature she was. Likely, she’d exhausted herself with useless fantasies of her revenge against the cruel mercenary. People were, after all, entirely predictable. I’d spent enough time traveling across this continent to know that much.
She began to slip sideways. I debated letting her fall off the horse. It would do the woman some good to have her bones rattled. Already, she was taking up far too many of my thoughts, when I needed to concentrate on our own plans. Her body leaned some more, and I sighed, tightening my arms around her. If those bones broke, it would only slow us down.
She nestled her face into my chest, and Marth threw me a wide-eyed look as his horse drew even with mine.
He opened his mouth, and I shot him a warning glare. I wanted to enjoy the precious silence for as long as possible before the harpy woke up and realized we weren’t going directly to the city.
A bird shrieked, and Prisca jolted in my arms. I sighed. Perfect.
Her eyes flew open, and for a moment, they were clear, dazed with sleep. Those strange eyes met mine and immediately filled with rancor.
She pulled away. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t get much sleep.”
Sitting up, she gazed at the forest around us. Then she looked up toward the sun. “Why are we traveling south?”
“We have something we need to do before we go to the city.”
She let out an interesting hissing sound. My horse’s ears pricked. “This isn’t what we agreed to. I don’t have time to go run your errands. I need to get to the city and—”
Her mouth clamped shut. I just shook my head. Did she really think we didn’t know her plan? Her only option was to get on a ship and flee.
“You’re breaking our agreement,” she growled.
No one annoyed me like this woman. The urge to dump her off my horse struck again. Rythos cleared his throat and gestured at his own horse, silently offering to ride with her.
I ignored him. “Our agreement was for three meals a day, a horse—” I gestured to my mount “—and lessons to help with your power. Your side of the agreement is to use that power when we cross into the city. No time frame was ever specified.”
“Let me off this fucking horse right now.”
My mouth twitched. There were few things more amusing than seeing this woman riled.
“We made a deal. You’ll uphold your side of it.”
She struggled, pushing at my arms. I pressed my mouth to her ear, loathing that her scent was so intriguing. “Continue to annoy my horse, and I’ll tie you to the saddle and make you walk behind us.”
“You’ll pay for this,” she hissed.
I just shrugged. We rode in blissful silence for several hours. Finally, she turned her head and scowled at me. “What is it that you have to do anyway?”
“None of your business.”
“Of course. A mercenary’s gotta mercenary, right?” Her upper lip curled, and she turned to face forward once more.
My hands itched to wrap themselves around her neck and squeeze. Her pale throat was tempting me enough that my hands tightened on my reins.
Now, I was the one annoying my horse.
