“Really? You with your ability to discern the truth are going to sit there and tell me not everyone lies.” She harrumphs. “I don’t have to be a Spiriter to know even you are full of secrets. And secrets lead to lies.”
True. Cohen comes to mind. Though he’s been back a few days, I’ve still not figured out how to tell him I’m connected to the king. If I could find a way to quickly sever the bond, I could move on and Cohen would be none the wiser. And yet, even thinking as much fills me with guilt. If the situation were reversed, I’d want to know the truth.
I sigh and push another wangle into the roof. “Yes, many people have secrets. Not everyone tells massive, life-altering lies. Just small lies. Inn—” I stop myself from saying the word innocent, because are there really any innocent lies?
“A lie is a lie. You have to know that people see what they want you to see.”
Being the Archtraitor’s daughter has jaded Lirra, that’s for sure. In all things there’s good and bad and in between. I think of my own life and the secrets that have been kept from me, as well as the ones I’m keeping.
I fight with whether or not I should tell her who my mother is. I don’t always want to be the girl who doesn’t trust anyone. Besides, her father is the Archtraitor of Malam. She’ll understand why I don’t want anyone to know.
I let go of my reservations and explain everything that happened in the woods the day I found the king.
When I finish, she gapes at me. “Whoa. Phelia is your mother.” She rubs her forehead. “Your question makes more sense now.”
“Good, because I have more. Would taking someone’s energy also physically mark a person?”
Lirra tips her head to the side. Her dark brown braid slides off her shoulder. “I’ve never personally met anyone who fits this description, but the tomes mentioned something about darkening a Spiriter’s skin along with their insight.”
Interesting. “What do you think Phelia is doing with the girls?”
A gust of wind rolls over us. “I—I don’t know.” Lirra frowns and then stares up at the sky. “You said Phelia touched a girl, and then Aodren couldn’t breathe?” Dread slackens her expression as I recall the memory Aodren shared with me. “Let me try something, all right?”
“Yeah, go on.”
Lirra frees her hands, putting some hay under her legs so it doesn’t blow away. Then she extends her palms toward my face. A sudden burst of wind weaves through my hair, drawing it toward her.
My lungs tighten. I try to draw a breath, but there’s no oxygen.
I gasp at nothing, my eyes drying out. My head spins.
Just as quickly as the air left, it returns, coolness breaking across my face. I gasp and snag breath after breath. When I manage to get ahold of myself, I whack Lirra in the shoulder with my fist. “Could’ve warned me that you were going to try and kill me.”
She rubs her arm and sags against the roof, seeming much more tired than before her demonstration. “It would’ve ruined the surprise.”
“How did you do that? Take the air away?”
She yawns and her hands tremble in her lap. “Sorry, that took a lot of energy. It’s not easy. I drew the air toward me, creating a vacuum, leaving nothing left for you to breathe.”
“Do you need to rest?” I point at her jittery limbs.
“I won’t argue if you say it’s time to go inside and see if Gillian’s done preparing supper.”
“All right, let’s go.” I take the remaining hay and put it back in the basket, then carry it to the ladder. I go first, and then watch as Lirra follows, making sure she doesn’t misstep.
Lirra trudges to the stable, tailing me as I put away the tools and remaining hay.
I walk over to Snowfire and rub her nose. “But Phelia is a Spiriter, not an air Channeler.”
Lirra pinches some feed hay off the ground and holds it out to her horse, Traitor. Clever name. I inwardly snort every time we’re near her gelding.
“Go back to the basics,” Lirra says. “Spiriters can give energy or take energy. Phelia took energy from the other Channeler.”
Lirra rubs her horse’s jaw. She looks over her shoulder at me. “Other Channelers can only manipulate their specific energy. I’ll only ever be able to push the wind around. Whereas you have the ability to take and give energy.”
“But if I took another Channeler’s power, that would be dark magic.”
“Well, yes.”
“And even if I did, I didn’t think a Spiriter could then use another’s power.”
“That’s what the runes are for.” She reminds me of the mark she saw on the deceased girl in the castle. Using the stable floor, Lirra squats and draws the rune in the dust. “This particular rune is used to transfer energy to a Channeler and allow that Channeler brief control of the ability.”
“So Phelia could use this rune on any Channeler to steal her ability?”
Lirra scratches out the mark on the stable floor. “That’s the thing that doesn’t make sense. The rune is supposed to work when both Channelers are giving their power freely. Not that I’ve seen it happen. Runes are banned by the Guild. But I doubt any of the kidnapped girls are going to willingly give their power to Phelia.”
“How is she taking their power and using it, then?”
Lirra shakes her head. “It could be as easy as a combination of runes. I just don’t know them all.”
“That look you’re wearing.” Lirra points at me. “That’s how I feel inside when I think about what Phelia might be doing to Orli.”
“I’m sorry she hasn’t been found yet.”
“Yeah, well, if Cohen doesn’t turn up something by the feast tomorrow . . .” She doesn’t finish. Not that she needs to. I know she’ll leave. She’s been talking about it since she arrived. Mostly she needed Cohen’s help to cross the border. Now that she’s here, she can search for her friend in Malam herself. Her Malamian is flawless. I’d expect nothing less from the Archtraitor’s daughter.
Unlike me, Lirra is a chameleon. I envy her that, especially with tomorrow’s feast looming over my head.
The next day, I wish I were still patching the roof.
Instead I’m preparing to go to the Winter Feast.
Even my old trousers and tunic would be preferable to the fancy undergarments I’m wearing. The thin, fine linen chemise is an itchy torture chamber. The constricting boning around the midsection and the neckline that threatens to expose my breasts are only two of a hundred reasons for throttling my maid and former friend.
Gillian threw a fit after discovering I was going to wear the shift Enat gave me, arguing it was too boxy and baggy to be worn beneath one of the king’s dresses. I accepted Gillian’s new underclothes only because I had finally realized that the shift used to belong to Phelia.
It took only half a second in this contraption to regret my decision. “What was she thinking?”
Lirra flips a length of muddy-brown hair out of her eyes and looks up from where she’s seated cross-legged on the floor.
“Or maybe I should say, what was I thinking?” I amend.
Lirra picks at a speck of nothing on her knee. “Considering the giver, it could’ve been worse.”
“Doubtful.” I groan.