by Wendy Knight
Christian spun in a circle, looking for the few he’d seen escape, but the smoke was so thick he could barely see.
And then he heard his sister’s scream shatter the burning air. Ada whirled with him, already running forward blindly through the smoke. They would kill her, or worse, Christian knew. His sister had no magic. She was sickly. She was weak. But as her form took shape through falling soot, Christian realized how very wrong he was. Charity had the ax and swung it like she was possessed, guarding the doors to the manor and Vivian, still lying behind her. The man ill-fated enough to have underestimated her was cut in half, his upper body sliding sideways as his legs collapsed. The man next to him, splattered with his comrade’s blood, backed away, his hands up. But there was no mercy for him as Ada’s spell hit him in the back.
“Where are you, you filthy heathens? Come out and fight me!” Ada screamed, standing in front of Charity now. Christian turned, slowly, but there were no more. In the distance, the sound of frantic horse hooves escaped into the night.
The battle was over. He had held them off until Ada returned. Slowly, Christian fell to his knees.
****
Ada paced, her heart in her throat, nearly strangling her. “Please, Ada, rest. You’re wounded as well,” Governess Buttercroft said, looking up from where Christian lay, still and pale.
Ada shook her head but didn’t say a word. If she hadn’t fought that stupid battle. If she hadn’t run away. If she hadn’t slept for a day. This was all her fault. The boy she loved lay dying, and it was all her fault.
“Can you help him?” she asked, more of a whimper than an actual question.
Governess Buttercroft scowled at her. “Of course I can help him. Have you forgotten who I am?”
Ada inched forward, laying her hand against Christian’s cheek. “Can you teach me?”
Her governess froze, blinking owlishly at her. Scarlett, too, was injured, but she had no one to attend to her wounds. The staff, what was left of them, had used up all their magic trying to fight. Those who could still heal were working on Vivian, although when Ada had pulled her inside she hadn’t seen any wounds or even scorch marks on her mother’s fine gown.
“Ada, you’ve been in two battles in one day. You’re wounded yourself. I don’t think—”
Ada cut her off, hoping her eyes were as hard to say no to as Christian always claimed. “Please, Governess Buttercroft. If I can help, if you can teach me, please do so.”
The room smelled of burnt flesh and the tangy odor of drying blood. A lady should want to faint. Ada just wanted to heal. I am a strange girl indeed. Charity came in with her herbs and grinding stone, setting them quietly on the table. She smiled encouragingly at Ada, and since she was a seer, Ada took that as a good sign.
Scarlett sighed. “Healing is completely different than burning spells and throwing them at someone. You have to feel it in your heart, and not everyone can do it.”
“My father says I’m powerful,” Ada said in a small voice, but her governess just laughed.
“That you are, Ada. But even the most powerful sorcerers in history could not do every spell. We all must have our weaknesses.” Ada stared up at her, heartbroken. If she couldn’t help heal, there was no way to make amends. Scarlett studied her for several seconds before her stern expression melted and she nodded. She took Ada’s hand — gently — and placed it above Christian’s wound. “Your spells come from the flames in your blood. Our spells come from our heart. If you want to learn Carules magic, you must learn it from there.”
Ada closed her eyes tight, like she had when she was a little girl and Governess Buttercroft had spent hours trying to teach her the spells her father thought she should know. She’d always been a slow learner. I don’t have time to be slow now. Christian needs me. Governess Buttercroft needs me. Her heart pounded, as if trying to tell her it was ready to do her bidding. She needed only to ask. She envisioned Christian’s blue flames, the hundreds of times he’d healed her or Charity. There was a kindness there, a gentleness. Love.
She wasn’t aware of the heat coming from her hands until Scarlett gasped and Charity clapped happily. Ada’s eyes flew open to see the warm red flames slowly seeping into Christian’s wounds, mending the torn skin. It wasn’t hot and tingly like her battle flames were. These flames were gentle and warm — more of a mist than a spark. They wove through the broken skin, melding with Christian’s blue flames, strengthening them and making him whole again. It was inspiring to watch, and Ada couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to.
He stirred under her hands, his brown eyes opening just a bit. He struggled to focus on her face, and then his eyes widened. “Ada! How—”
“Your mother taught me. Hush while I concentrate.” Beads of sweat rolled down her temple, and her hands started to shake from the effort. Clearly, she wasn’t as powerful as Christian, but she had been powerful enough. She had saved him.
He reached up and took her hand, bringing her palm to his lips. “I’m better, Ada. Rest now. You’ve healed me.”
“Your mother still needs healing. She’s been wounded,” Ada said, but had absolutely no desire to move her hand from his kiss.
“Ada has been wounded as well. Many times, from the look of things. We need more healers. I will try to summon some from the neighboring villages.”
William. Ada’s heart jumped into her throat at the thought of seeing him again. “Charnock does not have sorcerers. That’s where I’ve just returned from.”
Scarlett nodded wearily and went to work doing spells that Ada had never seen before. Watching made her weary, and she sank onto the bed next to Christian. “I heard Charity calling me. While I was on my way home. Is that what your mother is doing?”
“No.” Charity spoke for the first time from the shadows where she rested. “What I did, only seers can do. Your father is very interested to know how we do it, but so far he has had no success in replicating it.”
Ada’s breath froze in her throat and she turned wide eyes on Christian. He spoke slowly, as if afraid he might spook his sister with abrupt words. “Is that what he’s been working on while you’ve been with him?”
Charity blinked rapidly like she was just waking up. “I—I don’t know. I don’t know where that thought even came from.”
Scarlett had also frozen, her spells fizzling and dying as ash fell to the floor. “Charity, you need to think very hard. Is that what he’s been doing to you?”
Charity began to cry and Ada heaved herself to her feet, stumbling exhaustedly toward her. Cradling Charity’s head against her shoulder, Ada made soothing noises. “Borrow my strength, Charity. Use me to find your answers.”
She felt Charity’s gift without actually seeing her silver eyes glow. Ada wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to lend any more strength, but if this was the only way, she would do it. Somehow, deep down, she had to have hidden reserves… didn’t she?
Christian crawled across the bed to Charity’s other side, gripping her hand, and then Ada’s. She felt his strength flowing through them, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, focusing on Charity, on opening the bond between them.
“I see him… I see him doing a spell. It’s hard to see because he tries to hide it. Weird slashing lines, like cuts in the air. And then it comes and—” Charity screamed, grabbing her head.
“That’s enough. She’s had enough!” Scarlett jerked them apart, scooping Charity into her arms. Ada’s tall, always stoic governess was shaking and pale and frightened.
Ada met Christian’s eyes, but his face had gone an alarming shade of grey, and he clutched his head as well. Did her pain transfer to him? “Can I heal you?” she asked.
“You, here, is healing enough. I worried.” He kept his voice low, so only she could hear him.
“I know. I’m so sorry, Christian. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been chasing that battle…”
“Chasing battles is your destiny, Ada. Following your destiny will make you stronger, not weak
and helpless like your mother.” Scarlett’s voice was scathing, and Ada nearly flinched. But she was right — Vivian had been useless under attack. Charity had to save her. With an ax. An ax that weighed as much as she did.
“You were amazingly brave today, Charity.” Ada rose to her feet, squeezing Christian’s hand. She was loath to leave him, but she had to see what the damage had been to the manor and the outbuildings.
“I’ll come with you.” Christian rose, color returning to his face under the scruff of a day’s beard. She smiled up at him, grateful for the company. And they needed to plan. Somehow, they needed to keep Charity away from Richard. Under all the panic and exhaustion and confusion, Ada prayed hard that whatever Richard was doing, he had a good, redeeming reason for it.
It was still raining ash in a fine mist, like the first winter snowfall, but the fires had been put out. Bodies still littered the courtyard and the road leading into the forest.
“What, exactly, possessed you to ride like a demon down the mountain instead of coming around on the road?” Christian asked, his voice harsh in the still night. Ada flinched, but she knew it was fear that made him brusque.
“I heard Charity call. I could see you, through her eyes… I knew you needed me and I didn’t have time to go all the way around. So I came straight through.”
“You could have killed Alexios. Or he could have stumbled and thrown you. You both could have died!”
“Alexios. That is a much finer name than Horse.” Ada smiled.
Christian scowled at her. “Stop changing the subject.”
Ada sighed, slipping her small fingers around his. Christian’s rough thumb caressed the back of her hand absently. “Christian, I saw Charity’s vision. Had I been any longer, you all would have died. If that were to happen, I would rather be thrown from a horse and die with you than live on without you.”
He stilled, his breathing hitching in his chest. “What are you saying, Ada?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m saying I love you, Christian Buttercroft. I have for eight long years. And I do not want to live in a world where you are not.”
He watched her silently, his eyes wide in the darkness of the night. “You—you love me?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, Christian.”
“But—but you are the daughter of a duke. Nobility. I am nothing.”
Ada considered kicking him, but instead stomped her small foot and glowered at him. She felt the sparks struggling to light at her fingertips, responding to her anger, but she didn’t have enough magic left for them to light. “I am a sorceress. You are a sorcerer. That is all I care about. I do not choose nobility. I do not choose their life. I am a warrior and you are my healer. That is all that matters.”
Christian took her in his arms, pulling her tight against him. She fit there like he was made just for her. Raising her face to his, she growled at him. “And if you do not kiss me right this second, I shall kick you in truth.”
He chuckled, brushing his knuckles against her cheekbone. “I love you as well, Ada Aleshire. Always. Forever.”
She narrowed her eyes, doing her best to look threatening, and he laughed outright. When she kicked him, gently — just as a warning — he lowered his head, claiming her mouth with his own.
Chapter Six
“I have been told that a thank you is in order, Mr. Buttercroft.” Richard’s voice still had the power to send Christian’s head exploding into shards of agony and he winced before turning to face his employer.
“I did what I had to, Your Grace.”
“Yes, but for a Carules boy, and an untrained one at that, to fight off an entire battalion of soldiers—” Richard tipped his head, considering Christian before he continued, “—that is impressive indeed.”
Christian didn’t respond. Instead he turned back to the stalls with his pitchfork, hefting clean hay for the horses.
“It is rare that a Carules can even do Edren spells,” Richard continued.
What’s even rarer is an Edren who can do Carules spells. But your daughter can. And my mother didn’t have to torture her to teach her. He tossed the hay viciously at the wall, surprised at his own strength. Bits of hay dust burst into the air, making Richard sneeze several times. Christian smiled wickedly.
Several sneezes and sniffles later, Richard cleared his throat, obviously trying to regain his composure. “I’m an inquisitive man, Mr. Buttercroft, as you may know. Thus I am curious as to how you and your mother can do these spells.”
Christian sighed and turned back to the duke, leaning on his pitchfork. “We can do them because we were taught. My mother learned from her mother’s employer, and she taught me.”
“I am interested in teaching you more, Mr. Buttercroft. Would you consider joining my daughter and me in our lessons?”
Christian had been set to tell him no. His speech had been planned in his head since Charity told him that morning that Richard was going to ask. Train me like you “trained” me the other day? I will pass, thank you. But the Duke of Adlington knew his weakness, and had used it against him.
“Yes, I will join you and your daughter for lessons. That’s very kind of you.”
Richard’s face lit up in what Christian could only describe as triumph. “I had planned on visiting with your sister today, but if you are up for a lesson, we can begin immediately.”
Christian’s stomach knotted. Somehow, the duke knew. He knew that Christian suspected him of torturing Charity, and had added it to his arsenal of things he could use against Christian. The man was pure evil, of that Christian had no doubt.
“Of course, Your Grace. I will finish my morning chores as quickly as I can.”
Richard smiled indulgently, dabbing at his nose with a white silk handkerchief. “No need, Mr. Buttercroft. I will arrange for one of the other grooms to do your chores while we are learning.”
Feeling like he had just offered himself up for slaughter, Christian laid down his pitchfork and followed Richard into the manor and down the stairs leading to what had once been a dungeon and still had the feel of terror etched into the walls and hanging in the air. Ada waited at the bottom, standing in the darkness with only her sparks as a source of light. Richard sent a shot of pure fire at the large chandelier and the room brightened to rival the sun outside. Christian blinked and rubbed his eyes, trying to get used to the sudden light, finally opening them to see Ada gaping in horror at him. “What is he doing here, Daddy?” Fear made her voice thick, and her olive skin whitened.
“I’ve brought him on as an apprentice of sorts. He was such an asset to our battle the other day that I think he can be as powerful as any mediocre Edren warrior. He will be a fine addition to my guards — imagine it! I will be the only noble in all the land to have a Carules soldier.” He puffed his chest, but Ada didn’t look at him. She watched Christian, begging him with her big brown eyes to turn and run. She couldn’t protect him from her father.
He shook his head, just a bit, before Richard turned to glance at him. He motioned for Christian to leave the stairs and join Ada in the middle of the room. “Let’s get started, shall we? This is a new one I’ve been trying to teach Ada. It’s called a ginsti.”
Ada whimpered, quiet enough that Richard could not hear her, but Christian could. So this was the spell that he’d been healing her from every time she met with her father. She raised her hand, but it shook enough that the spell didn’t hold.
“Ada, what have I told you?” Richard sighed. He turned to Christian. “You try, Mr. Buttercroft. It really is a pretty spell, don’t you think?” Christian slowly tried to copy the spell, and his didn’t fizzle and collapse like Ada’s had, but when he pushed it toward the other end of the room it floated lazily and was gone before it hit anything.
Richard stood back, watching them. His face was grey with disapproval. “It seems you both need incentive.”
“No. No we don’t, Daddy. Please.” Ada whirled toward her father, skirts sweeping across the dirt flo
or. “I’ll do it right this time.”
Christian hated to see her beg. His Ada was powerful and strong. This man made her frightened and weak, not herself at all. Sparks burned and he traced the spell in the air, shoving it toward the wall on the duke’s right, close enough that it singed the man’s expensive day jacket. “Forgive me, my lord,” he muttered.
“See Ada, even a Carules can master this after one try. Why can’t you?”
“I’ll work harder, Daddy. I promise.”
“Yes. You will. Work harder or I will hit him with whatever spell you cannot do.” He motioned toward Christian with his head. Suddenly Christian was very clear about why he was here — it wasn’t to learn the spells, it was to be used as a threat against Ada.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Hit me with them. Leave him alone.”
“Well…” Richard scratched his cheek idly, as if considering her offer. “We did try that, didn’t we? And it didn’t work. You still can’t do the spell.”
Christian wasn’t aware of the sparks leaping from his fingers until Richard glared at him pointedly. “Thinking because you can burn a passable lirik that you can fight the most powerful sorcerer in the entire land, boy?”
I think if I was fast enough, it wouldn’t matter how powerful you are. “No, Your Grace.”
Richard nodded, his face smug before he turned to scowl at Ada. “Do it again. Both of you.” He waved a hand in Christian’s general direction. “And just for fun, if you fail, boy, I’ll hit her.”
Ada trembled from head to foot, so hard that the red and black curls Christian loved so much escaped from their braid. With jerky movements, she brushed them away and raised her hand. Even from where Christian stood he could see that her flames weren’t leaping like they usually did. They were forced, curling in and around themselves.
