by Wendy Knight
The tense set of his shoulders fell and he turned slowly. Sloshing back through the water, he climbed up into the dungeon. He raised his hand, and for half a second she thought he was going to attack, but he flicked water at her face, chuckling as he walked off. “This better be good, Miss Aleshire.” Whatever precipice he’d stood on, he’d chosen her side. A relieved breath left her in a whoosh.
“Just you wait,” she muttered while she brushed water droplets off her nose. “I might drown you next time we go through that tunnel.”
He glanced over his shoulder with a lopsided smile. “You could certainly try.”
Dropping her hands to her hips, she raised an eyebrow. “You think I couldn’t?”
His smile was downright too sure of himself. “I think you should teach me that spell before you end up in a water fight you will not win.”
She muttered under her breath about being bigger and falling harder, but she crossed to his side. “This, Mr. Not-afraid-of-a-little-girl, is a kiril. It’s a second kill spell besides a lirik. It takes less of our flames, but it is also less effective.”
Christian swallowed, all the amusement dying from his face. “You’re teaching me another kill spell?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re learning these spells to be a warrior, yes? And warriors typically... kill people.”
“But I—”
“Christian…” She patted his arm, feeling the well-muscled bicep under her hand. She swallowed hard. “You will be fine.”
The rikil was less fluid than the lirik, with harder corners and lines. Christian, of course, picked up on it much more quickly than she had that morning. He pushed it easily at the wall, where it shattered like a frozen flame, raining sparks on the dirt. “That is interesting.” He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but smile back.
“I told you you’d like this one.”
He acknowledged her statement with a slow nod before not quite changing the subject. “You know that interesting little wall of fire you like to burn things down with? That needs a name.”
She tipped her head, playing absently with stray curls that had once again escaped the braids Charity worked so hard on every morning. When she was married, long braids wouldn’t be appropriate any longer. She tugged hard on the end. She liked her braids. “It does. I shall think on it.” But the name hit her right then, requiring no thought at all, nicely enough. “Alable”
He nodded. “Very fitting. Yet another spell that no one will be able to remember the name of.”
Ada pulled a face at him. “It is late and I still need to research my spells for tomorrow.” She hesitated, peeking at him shyly through her lashes. “I will walk you back if you’d like me to.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t I be walking you back, since I am the man?”
She picked up her skirts, hoping she was forgiven for his earlier anger, whatever it was she’d said that had caused it. “I am already home. You’ve done your duty, kind sir.”
He chuckled, leading the way through the tunnel. Their sloshing made conversation difficult without yelling, and Ada was fairly positive that neither of them had the energy for that. There was no light except for the blue sparks from his fingers, and he was just a beautiful silhouette in front of her.
Her heart ached.
Chapter Ten
Ada had never been so tired in all her life. The manor had been attacked that morning, and her father had insisted they chase down every last one of the bandits and kill them. Now they rode silently, side by side. Christian rode just in front of them. Apparently, he’d, been promoted from a stable hand to one of her father’s guards. He seemed to be euphoric after the fight — after he had let the angry flames take control.
She kept her distance.
The rest of their guards were spread out around them, although Ada didn’t understand why they had guards at all. Weren’t they supposed to be the guards themselves? She thought of all the Edrens protecting the queen. Shouldn’t that be where Ada belonged? But no. There were no women there. “When Charity said there would be a sorcerer more powerful than any other, she undoubtedly meant a man,” she muttered angrily.
“What darling?” The fact that Richard was paying enough attention to her to hear Ada’s mutterings surprised her and she stumbled over her words. Ahead of her, Christian turned his head just a bit, also listening. Can a girl not grumble to herself with any decent amount of privacy?
“Nothing, Daddy. I just—” A spell shot past her face, skimming Alexios. The big black horse reared back, screaming, and Ada watched helplessly as her father flew through the air, landing hard behind them. Immediately, Christian and her father’s other guards spread out, searching for the threat. Ada leaped from her horse, whose name she did not know, and grabbed Alexios’ reins, holding tight as she tried to calm him. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’ll heal you, it’s okay,” she whispered, letting the spell Scarlett had taught her seep into the burn across his chest. And then she realized.
Ada had gone to the horse first. While her father lay in the road.
She jerked toward him, but he was unconscious. Or dead. He hadn’t seen her error. Dropping Alexios’ reins, she hurried to him, glancing at the guards to see if anyone had noticed. If Richard had seen her attend to his horse and not himself, he would be angry, and he would take that anger out on Christian and Charity — to hurt Ada.
Swearing fluidly under her breath, she knelt in the dirt and lifted his head to her lap. He breathed, and she found herself releasing a pent-up breath of her own. Should she wish for his death? Probably. But he was her father and she could not. Despite everything, she loved him very much.
Christian appeared beside her, flames already warming his palms. Unlike Edren battle spells, Carules healing spells came from the palms and there were no sparks. More like a mist. Ada joined him, letting her own magic join his. Richard’s eyes fluttered open and Ada killed her flames, unwilling to let him try to take that away from her, too.
“Are you alright now, Daddy?” she asked, forcing concern into her voice. She looked away, because her eyes would tell him the truth. I cared more about your horse than you.
“Yes. Yes, I’m alright,” he muttered. Christian offered his hand, and pulled Richard to a sitting position. “These old bones can’t take a fall like they used to.”
Ada smiled. Her father was far from old. “It is too bad there isn’t a spell that keeps us young, isn’t it?”
Richard’s face lit up. “There isn’t yet.” He waved his finger near her face and she blinked, completely confused. “Just give me time, Ada girl.” Christian pulled him to his feet and he stumbled to his horse. He struggled to mount, his arms shaking under his own weight. Christian glanced at Ada before turning to give her father a leg up into the saddle. Richard rode away without a word or backward glance, urging the great horse to stretch his legs and run.
Ada, still kneeling on the ground, looked from the cloud of dust he left behind to Christian, who returned to pull her to her feet. “What was that all about?”
“I do believe you’ve given him an idea for new experiments.” Christian’s voice was grim. Too grim, and Ada shivered.
“I hope you are wrong.”
Her horse waited patiently, eating grass along the side of the road. “Did you find who attacked him?” she asked as she swung herself into the saddle. She refused to ride like a lady and showed far too much ankle to be appropriate. She didn’t care.
Davis rode up next to her. “An assassin, I suppose. We must have missed him in the battle.”
From Davis’s other side, Harrison’s dark face split into a dangerous grin. “We did not miss him this time.”
****
Ada did not see her father for weeks, after that. He did not emerge from his study. All his meals were taken to him and he had no interest in training with her. Which meant he also had no interest in Charity or Christian. The free time was nearly overwhelming, only broken by her mother’s attempts to drag her into
wedding plans.
“I will not even see William before the wedding. I will be marrying an almost complete stranger.”
“A stranger who makes you laugh,” Charity said, twisting Ada’s long black and red curls into knots and weaves. Ada watched in the mirror. When they’d returned from London, Charity had steadily grown more pale and more withdrawn. But the last week or so, her color had finally been returning. Well, as much color as Charity ever had.
“My mother says she cannot heal me because I have a disease that makes my body attack itself,” Charity said abruptly. Ada blinked, surprised once again when Charity’s gift randomly manifested. “She says the sun does it.”
“Then we shall live in darkness,” Ada said firmly and Charity laughed.
“You are a sorceress, not a demon, dear friend. We shall not live in darkness, we shall take necessary precautions and be sensible about the whole thing.”
When Ada made a face at her, she tugged on the strands in her hands. “Do not pull that face at me, young lady,” she said sternly.
“I’m older than you.”
“I’m taller. That’s all that counts.”
Vivian swept into the room, arms placed out just so, head held like she was meeting the queen. “I couldn’t help but overhear, darling. I do believe a visit to your betrothed is in order.”
Ada jerked her head toward her mother, ruining all Charity’s hard work. “What do you—what? We can’t just go uninvited!”
“I will send them a missive. We will go next week.” Vivian clapped her hands together, peering over her fingers at Ada. Her eyes sparkled like this was the best idea ever had in the history of the world.
Ada sighed. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut?
****
A week later found them rolling away from the manor for a visit with their neighbors. She sent Christian in the opposite direction, to a battle with Davis and Harrison near the coast. That way, her father couldn’t get to him if he did decide to emerge from his study, and Christian couldn’t get to William.
Sadly amusing, that sending him to battle was safer than leaving him at home.
She knew a Carules’s blue flames would make him a target, which meant he’d have to fight harder to stay alive. She also knew that was when he was happiest, and the most at peace. Add that to his amazing power, and he would be just fine. Physically, at least. Her mind strayed to the conversation they’d had the night before as they wandered through the darkened courtyard. She still escorted him home, although it wasn’t needed now. Now that he was protecting the duke, he had the rest of the guards’ grudging respect.
“You are too beautiful for him, you know,” Christian said abruptly.
Ada laughed. “I did not see that one coming.”
Christian scowled, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, the way they’d practiced when his angry flames threatened. “His face is round. He’s… jolly!”
Ada laughed harder. “And jolly is such a bad thing?” she gasped between fits of giggles.
Christian plucked a leaf off the tree they ducked under, tearing it to shreds. “Yes. Jolly is not enough for how beautiful you are.”
She smiled, reaching for his restless hands that fought the flames so hard. “You are very kind to me, Christian.”
It was not what she had wanted to say. She’d wanted to tell him she loved him, that she would always love him. Forever. Always.
But she couldn’t. She was marrying someone else, just as they’d known she would, and she would live miserably for the rest of her life.
“It will not be so bad,” Charity said, reaching from the seat across from Ada’s and taking her hand. Even in gloves, Ada could feel the iciness on her skin.
“Do you promise?”
Charity raised a silver eyebrow. “That is entirely up to you. We may not be able to control our circumstances, but we can certainly control our attitude in those circumstances.”
Ada chuckled, leaning back into the seat. “Point taken.” The ride would take much longer in a carriage than it had on horseback. She wondered if there would be highwaymen for her to kill. Or even tree branches to burn out of the way, but there was nothing but peace and agonizingly boring calmness the entire way there.
“Lady Adlington. What a pleasant surprise to receive your missive this week,” Lady Charnock said, meeting them in the drawing room. “Welcome to Charnock.” She left Vivian and moved to Ada, pulling her close and kissing both cheeks. “It has been too long, Ada. How are the wedding plans coming?”
Ada smiled, more real than polite, and surprised herself. “Well, thank you. We thought one last visit to coordinate our efforts was in order.”
“Ada.”
She’d forgotten how William’s voice sent shivers up her spine and made the room seem lighter. She turned to see him standing in the doorway, as handsome as ever. Did society frown on betrothed using given names? She wasn’t sure but she didn’t care. Calling him anything but William felt wrong.
His hair was damp at his temples and he was fastening his cuffs, like he’d come down in a hurry. She could smell the musky scent she hadn’t even realized she associated with him until now. It made the flames in her stomach wake the sleeping butterflies.
“William,” she choked. She cleared her throat several times, trying unsuccessfully to turn it into a cough. “It is good to see you again.”
His lips quirked. “It is indeed. You must be tired after your travels.”
“Not. Exactly.” She widened her eyes, praying he wouldn’t send her to lie down. She could not stand any more rest. Charity had gone several minutes ago to get them settled in their rooms.
“Then may I give you a tour of the estate? Perhaps the village? It might calm any misgivings you have about making this your new home.”
“William. She just arrived. I’m sure she needs her rest,” Vivian said, clucking her tongue like a daft chicken.
“I am fine, Mother. William, I would love that.”
With their mothers looking on like proper chaperones, she took William’s arm and let him lead her around the estate. Most of the manor, she’d seen when she’d rested there in the embarrassment that was her first visit. The gardens, she’d seen from the window, but he led her through them and she marveled at their beauty. “The gardens at Adlington are much smaller. They have never been something of importance to my father.”
She felt William’s eyes on her as she bent to smell the flowers, stroking the silky petals with the edge of her finger. “I noticed.”
“I am sorry about my father’s guard. He… he isn’t stable.” The words felt like knives in her throat. She was a traitor to her heart, despite the fact that she spoke the truth.
“You defended him.”
“I did. We grew up together. He is my friend.”
William sighed, waiting until she faced him to speak again. Flowers forgotten, she found herself caught in his gaze. “You love him.”
“I—I do not—why would you say—”
He shook his head, his eyes sad. “I saw the way you looked at him in London. No one else in the world existed but him.” He looped her hand through his elbow again, drawing them away from their mothers. “We are friends, Ada, but I pray that one day you will look at me that way.”
She glanced over her shoulder at their chaperones, making certain they were not within hearing distance. “William,” she shook her head, nibbling on her lip as she tried to gather courage. “Why—why did you ask for my hand?”
He answered immediately, as if he had given this much thought already. “Because you fascinate me. Because I know you very little and yet I believe…” His voice trailed off and a flush crept up his cheeks.
Heart pounding, she laid gentle fingers against his chin and turned his face toward hers. “You believe what, William?” she whispered.
“I believe I am in love with you.”
She gasped, feeling her eyes widen. “You believe—”
“I believe I
’ve been in love with you from that very first instant in my forests when you obliterated the bunny.” His lips quirked. “Illegally, I might add.”
She could not think of what to say. She begged her mind to come up with something, anything, but her thoughts were as frozen in shock as the rest of her, and her mouth opened and closed in a silent conversation she was apparently having with herself.
“Since you will be my bride in mere weeks, I will not fine you for the bunny.”
She burst out laughing. It was a panicked, maniacal laugh, but it was all she could muster. His face split into a relieved grin and they resumed walking.
“Why do I never see your father, William?”She changed the subject to a safer one. She’d noticed the Earl of Charnock’s absence every time, and curiosity was driving her mad. Well, madder. She wasn’t sure she was still entirely sane as it was.
William didn’t answer for a very long time, tracing her fingers where they lay against his arm. “He is bedridden. There is no cure for him, and his mind is long gone from pain.”
Ada’s mind whirled to life, coming up with a thousand thoughts now that she didn’t desperately need them, and her feet slowed. William stopped with her, peering down in concern. She waved her hand through the air, trying to wave away the worry, but he only frowned more. “I could… I might be able to heal him.”
“I thought Carules were healers.” William straightened.
“They are. But my governess, she is a Carules. She taught me to heal. I could try.”
William studied her for long moments. “No one knows about my father. They think he is extremely busy. If word were to get out…”
She smiled gently. “I am not promising I can heal him. But I can promise that I will not say a word to anyone.”
****
She heard the screams long before they got to his rooms. They sent chills through her soul. “I’m sorry. Are you sure you are up to this, Ada?” William asked quietly, glancing over his shoulder. He hadn’t told his mother their plan, so they snuck through the manor. It was easier to sneak as they got closer; every sound they made was drowned out by the screaming.
