Jamis scowls. “That’s what happened to the last girl. How will I explain another death?”
Phelia spins around and whips out her arm, pulling the draping sleeve of her dress up. Black marks crawl over her skin. Semicircles, points, snaking lines. “The rune wasn’t right. Stop thinking about the inconvenience. This is a breakthrough. I’ve almost figured out how to keep the girls alive long enough.”
Jamis smiles. “That’s what I want to hear. But tell me, love, how many more times will you try? You’ve completely disfigured yourself.”
I rub my temples. I’ve seen the girl’s mark before, in my bedroom chamber. My gaze flicks from the rune on the girl’s arm to Hagan, whose shrewd gaze holds understanding.
“Come on, girl,” Nona pleads, swiping the medicinal brew on the young patient’s lips. The girl doesn’t respond. Her breaths seem to labor a little harder. Nona whispers the same encouragement once more as the rest of us around the bed hold our breaths.
One more rise and fall of her chest holds our attention. And then nothing more.
Even the muscles in her face slacken.
We wait. A couple of minutes pass, perhaps more. We’re all under the young girl’s spell, hoping for a change that isn’t going to happen. Eventually, Nona moves. She drops her chin to her chest and places a hand over the girl’s eyes, murmuring a prayer of passing.
I don’t know what to do or say.
Omar walks to the foot of the bed. His beard does little to hide the deep set of his frown. “A shame. Damn shame.” The argument he had with Leif moments earlier is forgotten. “Does that mark mean something to either of you?”
Nona exchanges glances with Hagan before the man says, “It’s a rune. Channelers used to use them to strengthen their power.”
“Is that what killed her?” Leif cuts in, struggle apparent on his features.
Admittedly, I’m equally shaken. Perhaps I’m just better at hiding my reaction.
“I don’t know,” Hagan says. By the way his eyes meet mine, I know he’s not being honest with Omar and Leif.
We discuss the girl further. None of us have a clue as to who her family might be. So in addition to adding guards in the woods, Omar assigns Leif to question the locals about a missing girl.
“No one speaks a word of this,” Omar cautions everyone in the room.
I nod in agreement. It’s better to keep word of this young girl’s death tightly wrapped until we know for certain who she is and how she died. For now, the healer will have to come up with a passable excuse to spread among the talkative servant girls.
Once Omar and Leif leave, I stay behind to have a word with Hagan.
He steps into the adjoining healing room with me while Nona tends to the girl, preparing her for burial.
“What more do you know?” I close the door so Hagan and I are alone.
The man crosses the room and picks up a metal tool, something that’s probably used in surgery. He rolls it in his fingers. “I do not want to cause trouble or have trouble turned around on me.”
I nod. “Go on. Whatever you have to say, I’ll keep a secret.”
He stares at me for a moment, as if sizing me up. “When I tended to you last month, I could tell you were overcoming more than simple sickness. That scar on your neck”—he points at me with the metal instrument—“has the look of a Spiriter’s healing.”
Perhaps I’m sometimes good at hiding my reaction. Now is not one of those times. “How do you know this?”
“Because I know Channeler magic. Been around it my whole life. My mother was one.”
“And have you kept my secret, then?”
“I have. I’m a man who can be trusted.”
I weigh his words. If he wanted me overthrown, he would’ve already spread word that a Channeler healed me. “Go on.”
“That rune on the girl’s arm is old magic. Dark magic. It’s a gifting rune. It allows one Channeler to lend her power to another.”
I think of the memory, unease like ice crippling my veins.
“Mind you, I’ve never seen it in action. And by the way the girl’s skin was infected, I’d say it didn’t work. But you should know I’ve heard word of Channeler girls going missing in Shaerdan. If this girl’s one of theirs . . . well, it doesn’t look good for Malam.”
No, it doesn’t.
I ask Hagan a few more questions, and he tells me the rumors he’s heard about Channeler girls being taken. I think of the girls I saw in the woods yesterday and the body of the amber-haired girl resting in the other room.
Since Lord Jamis was arrested, I expected Phelia to run. What more is Phelia up to? Could she truly be trying to use the Channelers as weapons?
I’ll not break Hagan’s trust, but Omar needs to be alerted right away.
Phelia is more of a threat than any of us knew.
Chapter
14
Cohen
“YOU’RE GOING TO EXPLAIN RIGHT NOW WHY you have the Guild leader’s daughter with you. Shaerdanian guards were in town earlier asking for Rhea.”
Lirra steps to my side, hands on her hips, expectant look on her face.
“Let’s take this back outside, then.” I sweep out an arm, not sure if I’m rankled by the discovery that I’m traveling with a young girl who is the equivalent of my death warrant, or if I’m tired and grumpy in general. I watch Lirra march to the door behind Jacinda before I follow suit.
“There’s something very familiar about you,” Jacinda says to Lirra once we’re outdoors under the moonlight, the trees standing around us as dark sentinels. “Have we met before?”
“We may have.” Lirra shrugs. “I’ve traveled through much of Shaerdan. Perhaps we’ve met each other in passing.”
“Her father’s Millner Barrett, the Archtraitor of Malam,” I add.
Lirra blasts me with a scowl. “Yes, and there’s that.” She crosses the clearing to her horse, removes a brush from the sack, and starts on the horse’s back and legs.
Did she not want anyone to know that?
On the one hand, I’m glad we saved Rhea, but it’s like capturing a baby rattler. The act is going to earn us a hell of a venomous bite.
Jacinda smiles at Lirra. “Right. We have met before. Your father and my late husband worked together a few times.”
That’s news to me. “Your husband was a rebel?”
Lirra blinks owl eyes at Jacinda. I watch as her expression shifts from surprise to worry. “You won’t mention you saw me, will you?”
“Getting in touch with Millner was my husband’s business. Not mine,” Jacinda reassures her. “My husband didn’t work with Millner very often but, yes, when asked he provided information. He knew practically everyone who lives in this county.” Sadness sinks the corners of her mouth. She stands and moves to Finn’s horse, helping without having been asked. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up anything painful.”