Valek quirked an eyebrow at him. “Really? You don’t suddenly find somewhere else to be when he wants to clean out the acid vat?”
Zebulon laughed. “True.” He played with the shoelaces on his scuffed and worn boots. “You’re not what I expected. Mother had us so worried when Zee’s and Zo’s magic started doing crazy things. We’d thought you’d arrive with an army and kill us all.”
“Reputations are interesting creatures. I’ve nurtured mine so that most people fear me. They’re easier to manipulate that way. However, I don’t kill because I enjoy it or get a thrill from it. There was a logical reason for each one, and it was usually after all other options were tried or considered. I’ve no regrets over anyone I’ve assassinated. Some criminals just can’t be redeemed—locking them in jail just gives them time to plan their next crime and hurt more people. But some can. In fact, a friend of mine was addicted to blood magic and did a number of horrible things in order to feed his addiction, but he pulled it together, turned his life around and is making amends.”
“You have friends?”
He gave him a wry smile. “A few brave souls. Being with me tends to put them in danger.”
“I bet.”
Voices sounded to the left, along with the light bang of a wooden door. Valek sensed the twins and his parents approaching well before he should. Odd. Father fetched more wood and built the small blaze into a larger one while the other three settled around the fire without saying a word. Heat pulsed. Orange light illuminated the ring of faces, the family resemblance clear.
Valek braced for another emotional conversation, but his mother asked about the Citadel, the Magician’s Keep, what the twins should pack and how much money they’d need.
He filled her in on what the twins would be doing. “Don’t worry about money. The Keep provides a stipend to the students.”
Zohav hugged her knees to her chest during the explanation. She’d rather stay home with her family, but Zethan relished the idea of learning more about his power. If he’d known what he could do, those pirates wouldn’t have stood a chance. This insight into both of them hit Valek with such certainty, it was as if he’d read their actual thoughts. His head ached with the ceaseless chatter and emotions.
Mother fiddled with the sliver clasp on her cloak. “Will you tell the Sitians they are your siblings?”
“No. Sitians fear and hate me as much as the Ixians do. They will be safer if everyone believes they are refugees from Ixia.”
Mother frowned. “They had to get their magic from my father. No one else in our family has it.”
“Yelena speculated that my immunity to magic might be a form of power,” Valek said.
“Who is this Yelena?” she asked.
“My heart mate.” Best to keep her status under wraps for now.
Zethan asked, “Does she think your immunity is a One-Trick power? Like Nell’s?”
“It’s possible.”
His mother studied him. Her thoughts clear. Valek couldn’t be that terrible if another person loved him. Unless she was a monster, too. “Tell us about her.”
The pain in Valek’s temples increased. Was it due to this strange...sensation...ability? With effort, he concentrated on describing Yelena’s wonderful kindness and intelligence, and he ignored the extra thoughts, sounds and smells that threatened to overwhelm him.
“Why isn’t she with you?” Mother asked.
“She’s in Sitia. I need to catch up with her, which is why we have to leave in the morning.”
“Does her family know she’s your heart mate?”
Again Valek understood why his mother asked that question. Her desire to find others who didn’t hate him might help her see him in a better light.
“Yes. In fact, her brother and father are currently helping me with a problem.”
“What problem?” Father asked.
“Identifying a plant. It’s important, but we don’t know why. It could either be a poison or be used as a potential weapon.” Like Curare.
“Would that be something we’d do as magicians? Help you with problems?” Zethan asked.
Both Zohav and Mother scowled at Zethan’s enthusiasm, thinking the boy was going to get himself killed if he helped Valek.
Valek rubbed his forehead. What the hell was going on? Why were their thoughts so clear to him? Was it because they were family? Unable to answer any of those questions, he concentrated on Zethan’s question instead. “I expect the Stormdancers will be very interested in you, and you’ll spend your time with them. Those who help me have a great deal of training and skill. They frequently give up months of their lives to work undercover, and it’s a dangerous life.”
“Then why do it?” Zohav asked.
His gaze was drawn to his brothers’ headstones. “Because evil is out there. We’ve witnessed its devastation. We know it must be stopped.”
“And you’re the only ones who can stop it?” Father asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s rather egotistical,” Zohav said.
“It could be taken that way,” Valek agreed. “It’s still true, though.”