Anna snorted half-heartedly. “We’d likely be much better off. Not chased by the Faie and An Fiach. Speaking of An Fiach,” she continued, raising her gaze to Maarav and Ealasaid, “has there been any word of them this far south?”
Ealasaid shook her head, wishing she had known the group from the start. As it was, she’d always be an outsider, unable to reminisce about the past. “Only from travelers coming from the North,” she explained. “The last we saw of them was in Badenmar.” She turned a quick glare to Maarav, still angry that he’d refused to help the townsfolk . . . not that she’d been able to do any better. “Most have not even heard of them in these parts,” she continued with a sigh. “These lands are still under the rule of the Gray City, or so I’m told, though most of the guard has withdrawn from the countryside, leaving the smaller burghs to fend for themselves.”
“Hence the Alderman here welcoming magic users without drawing much notice,” Maarav added. “Though I imagine it won’t last for long.”
Anna took a long swig of wine, then returned her mug to the table. “Yes, I imagine as soon as magic is used against the Alderman, all the magic users that have come to fight will be thrown to the dogs.”
Maarav nudged her with his elbow. “I told you so.”
She glared at him. She’d been arguing with him since Badenmar about her magic. What was the point of having special gifts if she did not use them to help people? “Forgive me for wishing to use my gifts for good,” she muttered.
He grinned. “And protecting me isn’t any good?”
Sativola burst into drunken laughter at that and she tried not to blush. She had become rather protective of him, though she wasn’t sure why. She knew full well that remaining by Maarav’s side was not the most noble choice, but if she didn’t, who would? Out of everyone, he was the one who’d remained by her side the most. What type of woman would she be if she didn’t return the favor?
Anna sighed, not seeming to notice Ealasaid’s embarrassment. “Well, regardless of magical acceptance, we’re stuck here for the time being, thanks to Kai.”
Suspicion twisting his features, Maarav drummed his fingers on the table. “Please explain to me again, why those dark riders will not come to find you within the burgh?”
“That is simply what we were told,” Anna answered, “and it has fortunately proven to be true, at least thus far, seeing as we’re still alive.”
Ealasaid nodded. She’d seen the riders disappear with her own eyes, and she highly doubted it had anything to do with her lightning. She pursed her lips, looking at Kai. “So at what point will you be able to leave the burgh then?”
Kai shrugged. “The one who gave us this task simply said to get here, and to not leave.”
Ealasaid noted Maarav’s expression as it once again turned suspicious. Neither Kai nor Anna had divulged who’d sent them on their near-death mission, and it was clear Sativola knew little more than he or Ealasaid. She supposed she could not throw stones in any case. It wasn’t like she’d been terribly forth coming with her own secrets all along.
“And what about Finn?” she asked, genuinely worried about her friend. She still felt the sting of the moment they’d parted, and the shocked look on Finn’s face. “Why did you need to distract the riders from her? What task is she supposed to accomplish?”
Anna and Kai met each other’s gazes for a brief moment, then Anna turned to Ealasaid and shook her head. “Please trust that you are better off not knowing. You do not want to be any more involved in this than necessary.”
“Wise advice,” Maarav concluded, emptying his dram of whiskey then thunking the empty container on the table. He stood, then offered Ealasaid a hand up. “Now if you do not mind, we have a task that needs tending.”
Ealasaid let out a heavy sigh, her mind now turned toward their task. While she truly believed that Maarav cared for her, at least a hair, it didn’t stop him from taking advantage of her magic for his own gain, even if it meant risking both their skins on a near constant basis. All this, while cautioning her from helping people if it meant revealing herself.
Saying their temporary goodbyes to Kai, Anna, and Sativola, who would be staying at the inn that evening, Ealasaid allowed Maarav to lead her outside.
The sky was now dark, and she had to watch where she stepped on the rutted, muddy road, only sparsely illuminated by lantern light. Maarav removed a piece of parchment from his breeches pocket and looked it over, then pointed in the direction they were to go.
“Are you sure this is a wise idea?” she whispered as they began to trot along down the dark street.
“Now more than ever,” he replied, his green-gray eyes scanning the road ahead, looking for the next landmark.
The directions they’d been given were confusing at best. If this was all a trap, she could only hope her lightning would save them.
She bit her lip and continued jogging forward, remembering the old woman they had met earlier. The gray-haired woman, Grelka, had known of her powers even though she hadn’t used them in front of anyone in the burgh. Grelka had urged her to stop hiding, and to bring in a new era.
It had sounded like crazy ranting to her, but Maarav had become instantly intrigued. He’d seemed to sense an opportunity. Grelka had handed her a piece of parchment with a time and a place, instructing her to show up if she hoped to change her fate.
She lifted her skirts a little higher to avoid the mud as they jogged on, rounding several more corners, until finally coming to a halt. The directions stopped there . . . in a dead end. The narrow space in between buildings ended in a solid wall, blocking passage back to the main thoroughfare.
“What do we do now?” she panted, lowering her skirts.
She and Maarav both jumped as a throat cleared behind them. They turned. Grelka was there, her sparse, white hair glinting in the moonlight. Warming her bony shoulders was a gray, heavy knit shawl, just as old and worn as her deeply lined face, and murky, puddle water colored eyes.
“This way,” she instructed, gesturing behind them.
Ealasaid turned and gasped. Where before had been a solid wall, now stood a doorway. As she watched, the door creaked open, and a young man with sandy blond hair peeked his head outside.
“Are we ready, Grelka?” he asked.
“This is the last one, Ouve,” Grelka answered.
Ouve turned wary eyes to Maarav. “And him?” he asked.
Maarav stepped forward as if to explain himself, but Grelka answered, “The soulless one may pass. The old blood runs through his veins.”
Ealasaid noted how Maarav stiffened at being called, soulless one, and she wondered at the odd title. Before she could think further upon it, Grelka hobbled forward and hurried them inside.
Ouve moved out of the way as they entered, then shut the door behind himself. Ealasaid whirled on him, half expecting the doorway to be a solid wall again, but the door was still there, real as ever.
“Just an illusion,” Grelka explained, taking in Ealasaid’s wide-eyed expression.
Ealasaid turned to find Maarav had already moved further into the room, observing those already present. Candles bedecked every surface, though they illuminated nothing remarkable. Empty, dusty shelves lined most of the walls, interspersed between boarded up windows.
“An empty storeroom?” Ealasaid questioned to no one in particular.
“So it would seem,” Maarav replied, moving to stand at her side.
Ealasaid scanned the other people in the room, noticing most faces were shadowed in the hoods of their cloaks. Patting her blonde curls self-consciously, she wondered if she should be hooded as well.
Ouve stepped into the center of the gathering, his lanky form towering over most in the room. He was almost as tall as Maarav, but with about half the muscle. His hood was off, readily showing his face, making her feel less conspicuous in showing hers.