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.