“How do you know?” Most Wyrd Blood had no idea what they had until it showed up one day, either by trial and error or dumb luck.
“Because I’d sense it.”
He continued to push.
Sometimes I fell. Sometimes I managed to stand. Nothing about this felt like training. It felt like he was still pissed off I’d stolen food from his chugger.
After another twenty pokes, I snapped. “Why don’t you just punch me if you’re so angry?”
“And you need to learn to control your temper.” He, on the other hand, was perfectly calm. He walked over to the perimeter and picked up a stick.
“Are we done, or is this when you start beating me with that branch?” I sat with an undignified thump onto the ground.
“Neither.” His back was to me, so I couldn’t see his face, but it sounded like he might’ve been smiling when he said it. I was glad he found the idea of beating me humorous.
He dug a circle in the dirt around him as he chanted until it closed.
He tossed the stick to the ground and turned to me. “The bigger a ward is, usually the weaker it is. A tight ward like this is going to be very hard to get through, even for someone who’s a natural ward breaker. Once you can get through this one, you’ll be ready to get through anything they’ve got.”
I was a natural ward breaker. I liked that. It sounded…important. Special, even. I’d felt exhausted a second ago, but the looming challenge in front of me had me nearly jumping to my feet again. Maybe this was something I’d be good at, like he thought? The fact that he stood there so nonchalantly, as if I had no shot of breaking his ward, didn’t hurt matters either. Months my ass. I’d break it this afternoon, and after his healer bought me some time, I’d get the hell out of here. First I’d find Ruck and my crew, let them know I was okay, then figure out a way to find the Debt Collector on my own. It was too dangerous for them to go with me.
I sauntered toward where he stood and then hit the ward. I bounced and then staggered back, as if everything I’d just given it had been thrown at the side of a cliff. I’d seen that happen before, but not to me. Never to me.
Ryker was standing inside his circle, I told you so prominently displayed on his face.
It only added fuel to my charging. The next time I hit it, I didn’t stagger back—I bounced and fell.
He leaned closer and softly said, “You might want to try a little less ramming and a lot more finesse. A ward is woven magic. Brute force doesn’t usually work, but you never know.”
I didn’t want to follow his instructions, but I did want to get through that damn ward and get back to my crew. Wiping the look off his face wouldn’t be a bad outcome, either.
I approached it softly and tried to slowly step through it. It felt like I was trying to step through a wall. “You knew that wouldn’t work. Are you trying to help me or get a laugh?”
His hard angles softened slightly. “Magic is a muscle. It’s like lifting a weight. You’ve got a lot of it, but you’ve never done much with it. It’s going to take a while.”
It was the first time since I’d met him that he hadn’t talked to me as if I were a bug to squash. I nodded and took a couple of steps to gather up some more energy.
“What is it that you want in Bedlam, anyway?”
“Why are you called Bugs?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Just a nickname.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“I’ve had it for so long, I don’t remember.”
“Did you know your magic flares when you’re lying?”
Actually, I had. What I hadn’t known was that other people felt it. Live and learn.
I’d geared up to ram into the ward when he said, “Time to quit.”
What was it with this guy? He’d poked me, had me run into a ward, and now he thought I was too weak? We’d see who’d quit first. I gave as good as I got. “I can keep going.”
“No. You can’t.”
“Yes, I…” I wobbled and went down for the count.
Chapter 12
I woke up laid out on Ryker’s couch. An old woman hovered over me, her grey dreadlocks brushing the skin of my arm. Her face was nearly at my chin as she stared at my chest, bony fingers prodding at me. This had to be the healer.
Ryker stood behind her on the other side of the room. The distance didn’t fool me. His attention was intent, and I felt a little flare of his magic in the room.
“It’s bad, but I’ve seen worse.” She straightened and looked at Ryker. “You know I can’t cure it.”
“I’m aware. I need six months or so.”
Six months? He’d said months, but that was a really long time to leave my crew. If I didn’t, though, I was dead. Dead didn’t help anyone. Dead didn’t feed crews. It was an easy choice.
She grabbed my wrist with one hand and laid her other hand over my chest. If I wasn’t so scared of dying, I’d tell her to get her voodoo hands off me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t just scared of dying, I was terrified, so I tried to keep my face blank instead.
But it was rough. I didn’t like the way her magic was poking at my magic. It wasn’t anything compared to Ryker’s pokes, but it was hard to keep mine settled down enough to not push back. I didn’t want to kill this woman, but I had a limit to how much I could be poked in a day.
Ryker was standing behind her shoulder, and as blank as I’d made my face, he read it chapter and verse. I read his as well. It was screaming, Don’t you dare shove her off.
I replied, It’s my body and I can shove off anyone I’m capable of shoving. He might be a good read, but there was no way he caught all that. He tilted his head a bit to the side, though, proving he’d caught the gist of my mood.
The healer dropped her hands before I was fed up enough to do something about it. Seeing as she was there to help me, I would have endured quite a while longer. Not that Ryker needed to know that tidbit.
The healer, hands down by her side now, gave her verdict: “Her magic is strong enough, if a bit chaotic. It can be done if you have someone else with compatible magic.”
“I have compatible magic.”
“So she has it like that, does she?” The healer’s eyes widened, as if she’d heard something interesting, her attention fixed on me again.
My eyes shot from her to him. Did she just figure out my magical limits by doing that?
Ryker gave a slight nod before telling the healer, “Yes, and that information isn’t for repeating. Or selling.”
When had we become a team that I was looking at him to know whether to trust her? That was a slippery slope, and I needed to back far away from the ledge.
“What’s compatible magic?” I asked, shifting my attention to Ryker again. Why had I asked him and not the healer, who’d brought up the subject? Hadn’t I just told myself to back away from relying on him in any way? Even for information?
“It means this will work.” He spoke as flat as the floor we were standing on.
Clearly, he was withholding. Prime example of why not to trust him. I couldn’t trust any of them. He wanted something from me. That was the only reason he was doing this, and if I wanted to get out of this in one piece, I better not forget it.
The healer cleared her throat. “The cost is steep. It’ll be a year, and then I get another six months. Eighteen months in all.”
“Done,” Ryker said.
I was still trying to figure out what they were talking about. “What does that mean?”
“Eighteen months off his life.”
Wait a second. I didn’t like the guy, but that wasn’t fair. I couldn’t let this healer person suck years off his life. I put my hands up. “I can’t take over a year—”
“Not your choice,” Ryker said.
It wasn’t my choice, and what else was I going to do? I didn’t want to die.
The healer watched me, and I got the sense she was giving me a choice. “You have a couple weeks at most if you don’t do it,” she said.