Arcane Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 2)
Page 5
“Adaryn, listen to me,” Aaric said, his voice cracking with urgency, “I have to talk to Luna, and Miss Grace knows where she lives. Think about that for a moment. I know Miss Grace—not very well,” he added, seeing the flash of jealousy in Adaryn's face, “—but I know her a little. An apology is all you have to do to smooth her feathers, and it'll be done with. You can mete out revenge later, I don't care, but I’ve got to see Luna. Please.” He put on his most earnest expression; it had gotten him his way with Adaryn in the past.
Adaryn glowered at him a little longer, then dropped her gaze sullenly. Aaric repressed a sigh of relief.
The nomad turned and stalked back to Miss Grace, who was tapping her foot impatiently, her arms folded. She recoiled when Adaryn stood a little too close for personal space.
“I . . . apologize for hitting you,” she said simply. She jutted her chin out a little, facing Miss Grace squarely. “You may hit me back if you like.”
“Hmpf,” Miss Grace snorted. “Looks like Aaric has managed to teach you some manners,despite the fact you wear no collar. I don't hit, though. How uncivilized.”
Aaric grimaced, fully expecting Adaryn to tear Miss Grace's head off—and he wasn't sure he would stop her—but aside from a stiffening of the shoulders, she made no move.
“Very well,” Miss Grace said briskly. She grabbed one of Aaric's arms, steering him down the street. “I will take you to my aunt. I come to visit her in the spring, and—” Aaric blocked out her chatter; it was a habit of his when he was around her.
Adaryn darted forward, snatching up his other arm and hanging onto it as tightly as a leech. Aaric suppressed a groan. He was sure he looked the skirt-chaser now.
16
Aaric
Miss Grace led them down several streets, taking many twists and turns. The heels on her boots were ridiculously high, and Aaric couldn’t imagine how she managed to walk in them.
“Of course Ruis has much more by way of parties and such,” she was babbling on, “but the weather here in Sen Altare is so much more agreeable. In the spring, that is. It gets quite dreadfully hot in the summer. That is usually when I pack my things and go back home.”
“You come here yearly?” Aaric asked.
“Yes, usually,” Miss Grace replied. “The city has a rustic quality I find quite refreshing and the food is absolutely fantastic. Not that I eat much,” she added hastily. The woman had somehow managed to snuggle so close while walking that their shoulders touched. Adaryn was stony silent on his other side, clutching his arm like a lifeline. Sweat trickled down his back. It's the heat, he told himself stubbornly.
Several minutes later—it felt hours to Aaric—Miss Grace brought them to a large, white cottage with a white picket fence. The yard was overrun with flowers of every hue and a sandy walkway led up to the door.
Miss Grace finally released Aaric's arm and hurried forward. “Auntie!” she called. “Aunt Luna!” She turned to Aaric. “Wait right here. I need to let her know she has a visitor.”
A minute later Miss Grace returned, motioning them to come inside. The interior was dimly lit. Aaric blinked a few times, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness.
An older woman was seated at a small desk, reading. She looked up at Aaric and her book dropped, her eyes widening in astonishment.
“Baldwin?” she whispered. She passed a hand over her eyes and peered at Aaric again. She laughed. “I'm sorry, young man. For a moment I mistook you for someone else.”
“Luna Flores.” It wasn't a question. Heavens, what a stroke of luck!
The old woman nodded. “The same.” She stood and walked over to Miss Grace, peering at her intently. “What on earth has happened to your eye, child?”
Miss Grace shot an angry look in Adaryn's direction. “Never mind that now, Aunt,” she muttered. She smiled at Aaric. “This charming man is from Ruis. We're very good friends.” She fluttered her lashes at him, ignoring the indignant snort from Adaryn. “He has some questions for you.”
“I see.” Luna turned to face Aaric again. “Mr. . .”
“Wright. Aaric Wright.” Aaric watched the woman closely. “Baldwin was my father.”
Luna nodded in satisfaction. “That doesn't surprise me, boy. You are the spitting image of him. Is he well?”
“He passed some years ago, from an illness,” Aaric said. “I take it you knew him, then.”
Luna sighed regretfully. “A pity. I would have liked to see him again. Knew him? Yes, I knew him. He was a prideful man, full of ambition, but sharp as a whip and very driven.” She eyed Aaric thoughtfully, a gleam in her dark eyes. “Did he ever find what he was searching for?”
Aaric shook his head. “The sky jewel? No. That is why I am here. To finish his quest.”
Luna sighed, shaking her head slowly. “I can't say I'm surprised he never found it. Sky jewels are rarer than rare. There are said to be less than ten in the world.”
“Why did he want one?” Aaric asked. “He couldn't wield magic. Seems like it'd be useless to him.”
Luna paused, her brow furrowed as if trying to recall. “I seem to remember him saying something about finding the right magic user to wield it for him. That doesn't really make sense to me, though, and he never explained himself.”
Aaric and Adaryn exchanged glances. It made sense to them.
“So why are you seeking it?” Luna asked him, head tilted slightly to the side.
“Not for myself,” Aaric replied. “Some magic users up north have need of its protection.”
Luna looked disbelieving. Adaryn stepped forward. “He speaks the truth,” she said, not looking at him. “Aaric and I are trying to find a sky jewel to take back to my people. Magic users are enslaved up north; we want to change that.”
“I believe him,” Miss Grace sniffed disdainfully. “Though why he would be interested in helping their sort is beyond me.”
Luna looked at the younger woman with an amused smile. “Yes, I forget that the northerners are somewhat backward in their ways.”
Aaric coughed diplomatically, changing the subject before Miss Grace could get angry. “Luna, I need to talk to you about the sky jewel. Do you know where I can find it?”
The old woman shook her head. “I didn't know the whereabouts when your father was around, and I haven't learned anything new of it since.” She paused, considering, and then said, “Why don't I take you to the Scholar's Guild? You can read the notes your father and I left there. It's been five years since I've retired, but the notes should still be in the archives.”
“Yes, please.” Aaric said eagerly. “The more I can learn of it, the better.”
“Don't get your hopes up too much,” Luna said warningly. “You will probably find precious little from our notes.”
A few minutes later, Aaric and Adaryn said their goodbyes and left. Aaric walked with a spring in his step, rubbing his hands with anticipation, thinking about the Guild. “How lucky was that, finding Luna?” He glanced at Adaryn, seeing her dark frown.
“What's the matter?” he asked, perplexed.
“Miss Grace is the matter,” she grumbled. “I'm glad we've found Luna but I can't pretend to be happy that we're mixed up with Grace.”
Aaric waved a hand. “Don't worry about her. She got us what we needed. You won't need to give her a second thought.”
“And her blouse,” Adaryn muttered. “Not to mention she wouldn't stop fluttering her lashes at you. I should have punched her in both eyes.”
Aaric shrugged. He thought of Luna's notes on the sky jewel, safely tucked away in the Scholar's Guild. He was one step closer to fulfilling his promise to the clan, and one step closer to a future with Adaryn.
17
Adaryn
“We're close, I'm so excited,” Grace laughed, hanging off Bran’s arm as we walked.
It was barely mid-morning but the coolness from the night had dissipated, leaving the air hot and dry. I shifted my shoulders uncomfortably; already I could feel sweat under
my shirt.
We turned a bend in the street and Grace gestured excitedly, practically hopping “There it is! The palace,” she squealed, and hurried faster than ever.
Bran came with Aaric and I today, and volunteered to take Grace, wanting to get a closer look at the king. I knew that once Luna took Aaric to the Guild, he would completely immerse himself in his studies, and so decided to come along with Bran and Grace. I began to regret my decision.
“Why are we in such a hurry, again?” I growled. “Your eye isn't that bad.”
Grace gave me a flat look. I suppose now that I looked at it more closely, her eye hadn't improved much in the past couple of days. Purple and yellow bruises surrounded it. At least the swelling had gone down.
Grace continued clinging on Bran's arm as they walked. It didn't seem to matter much to her that he was a nomad. Being handsome had its benefits when you were around Miss Grace. He’d better watch it though, or she'd have a collar around his neck.
“Let me explain it again,” Grace said with over-exaggerated patience. “On the last day of every month, King Matias allows the commoners to come and receive his blessing, and healing, if needed.”
I rolled my eyes. I very much doubted the king could do anything of the sort. Only a magic user would be able to heal an injury in an instant, and only a handful of nomads had the talent. 'Matias' was hardly a nomadic name, at any rate.
“Though I suppose I should thank you,” Grace said grudgingly. “I've never had the fortune of getting injured during my stays in Sen Altare and so have never seen the king. Not in person, anyway.”
I rolled my eyes. Who cared about meeting a king?
The castle was beautiful from afar, but it was even more impressive close-up. I couldn't see a single flaw in its white stone walls. In the sunlight, the gates shone in a myriad of color. I absently wondered what kind of metal they were as we went through them, surrounded by several other people, no doubt also here to gain the king's blessing.
My eyes widened with surprised delight as we found ourselves walking down a cobblestone path surrounded by a huge garden, filled with neatly trimmed bushes, slender, elegant trees and flowers of every kind. Most of them I didn't recognize. It was beautiful to me though, and if it weren't for Grace, I would have skipped the king entirely in favor of perusing the garden. However, chattering non-stop, Grace held my arm tightly as we walked down the path and into the castle.
The air inside the castle was cool. I breathed deeply, welcoming a reprieve from the hot air outside. The floors were cold under my soft shoes. Grace said they were made of marble. The other people who had come to see the king, seemed equally impressed, listening to their awed murmurs.
The walls were covered in an array of tapestries and the furniture had been polished to gleaming perfection. I glanced over at Bran, who was staring at our surroundings with equal wonder. Nomads could only imagine this kind of wealth.
Grace marched determinedly ahead, her eyes locked on the two servants standing up ahead. The servants motioned us to follow, and we were led through a doorway and down a few more hallways. The three of us had to stick close together to avoid getting lost in the crowd.
Several minutes later found us in a large, circular room, where we were formed into a long line. Those in front of us were sent in small numbers through a pair of large golden doors. There were several more guards here, trying to keep order as the crowd grew more excited.
I fidgeted with impatience as the time dragged on. I glanced over at Bran who was scanning the entire room and its occupants. Aside from his eyes and slight movement as he tilted his head he didn’t move. I couldn't imagine how he managed to be so still in such a noisy environment. My ears were buzzing with all the excited murmurs. I wished again that I had gone with Aaric.
After what felt like an eternity later, we were finally motioned through the large doors. The room we entered was even larger and more impressive than the one we had just spent forever in, but my attention was entirely focused on the man standing in the middle of the room. He was tall, with long, dark hair. He turned to study Bran and I, frowning slightly as if puzzled.
Grace rushed forward, leaving me and Bran behind. She curtsied, sweeping her skirts out to either side, her blonde curls tumbling about her shoulders perfectly. I hated those curls, self-consciously brushing my matted hair back from my face.
I wasn’t close enough to hear what they said to each other, but something Grace said made the man laugh. Still smiling, he stretched out an arm, laying a hand on Grace's forehead.
Bran and I started forward, meaning to catch up to the woman, and stopped simultaneously in shock. Magic radiated from the man standing before Grace. No one else in the room seemed to notice, and if they didn't wield magic themselves, how could they? The enchantment hit me like an invisible wall. Bran's eyes widened in incredulity. I doubt either of us had ever encountered such raw power.
On lifting his hand away, the feeling of enchantment ebbed and left. The king said something to Grace, who giggled and said something in response, before curtsying and turning away from him, toward us.
I followed Grace from the room, Bran trailing us like a shadow. We were sent out a smaller door and down a series of hallways before finding ourselves outside. Grace was walking more slowly now, her face practically glowing. “I think I'm in love with the man,” she said, clasping her hands together.
I snorted. “That's ridiculous,” I said. “Though I'll have no objections if this means you’ll keep your filthy hands away from Aaric.”
Grace sniffed in my direction and I noticed her black eye was gone. So King Matias really could heal.
“We need to get back,” Bran said, stepping forward to take the lead. “I don't know about you two ladies, but I could go for a decent meal about now.”
“Oh, let me show you,” Grace hurried forward to take Bran's arm. Was the woman really so fickle? “I know this most fabulous place to eat, nothing like those disgusting street vendors. My treat.”
I clenched my hands, infuriated with the woman's behavior, but turning a corner saw the garden again. It seemed to beckon to me with all its colors, scents and life. I glanced at the other two. Grace was still chattering to Bran, who, for a wonder, didn't seem to object to her company, even if she was an Oppressor. They wouldn't miss me, I decided, and quickly darted off the pathway and into the foliage.
I ducked behind some large bushes to avoid being seen by anyone else on the path, and then tiptoed further into the green wilderness. It was massive and it didn't take long before the sounds of footsteps and voices from the path were gone. Birds chirped and twittered from the treetops. I caught several flashes of bright plumage as they flew from tree to tree. I didn't recognize any of them except for the occasional finch or sparrow.
I found a small stream. It was astounding to me to find one in a city and drank from it deeply before stretching myself out under a large tree with enormous leaves. I thought about the king. What was a magic user doing here, and as king? The only magic users I knew of were nomads like myself.
It was cooler here in the garden than out in the city, but still warm. I felt my eyes grow heavy and, with my thoughts drifting, fell asleep.
18
Aaric
The Scholar's Guild was everything Aaric could possibly hope for. While the exterior looked less than impressive, the inside was a glorious sprawl of books, scrolls, tools, maps and contraptions. He didn't know where to look first. Luna strode ahead of him with purpose, ignoring all the paraphernalia around her. Likely she was used to it, Aaric supposed. It was like his father's study, times one thousand.
The interior seemed to go on forever, and with their path taking them on a decline, Aaric suspected it might even go underground.
“What is the purpose of this place, Luna?” He had tried to call her Ms. Flores, but the woman insisted on being called by her first name.
Luna shot him a sideways look, perplexed. “The purpose of this place is to seek knowledg
e, of course,” she said. “Without knowledge, humans would remain in a state of ignorance, unable to progress as individuals or as a society. Knowledge makes us who we are.”
Aaric nodded in silent agreement as they continued. He caught sight of several people as they walked. He was startled to see almost as many women as men, hunched over papers or personal experiments. No one so much as glanced his way.
“Here we are,” Luna said, stopping before two iron-bound doors. A boy was seated on a stool outside of them, his nose in a well-worn book. He looked up.
“Can I help you?” he asked. His eyes flickered down to the pages again, reluctant to stop reading.
Luna snorted. “Open the doors, you dull witted whippersnapper, before I beat you over the head with your own book.”
The boy's eyes snapped up to look at the old woman, and his freckled face split in a grin. “Long time since you've been here, Luna,” he said amiably. “How are you doing?”
“I'll be doing better when you open the doors.” Luna tried to look stern, but the corners of her lips twitched, ruining the effect. She patted the boy on the shoulder. “How's your mother doing, Thomas?”
“Better, thanks to the medicine.” Thomas pulled a series of levers, Aaric watching curiously. They were pulled out of order, making him wonder if it were a puzzle of sorts.
With a loud clicking and whirring, the doors opened with a screech. Luna brushed by, motioning to Aaric to follow.
What met his gaze astounded Aaric. It was like stepping into the city library at Ruis. Books and scrolls lined the shelves from floor to ceiling, stuffed to bursting. He turned, bewildered, to Luna. “We're supposed to find information about the sky jewel here?”
Luna clucked her tongue. “That's why I'm here, lad.” She hustled over to the far side of the room, walking down a few aisles and a couple over. Glancing at the shelves as he passed, Aaric didn't see any particular order to anything, but the woman seemed far from lost, and was pulling a file from a shelf after just a few short minutes. She walked over to a table, putting it down, and then took a seat. Aaric sat across from her.