He wasn’t necessarily wrong. He kept tugging as I looked back. “What a waste.”
“No, it’s not. The people on cleanup save all the scraps and save them for people with dogs.”
He said it so nonchalantly, not realizing that their pets ate better than my crew had all winter.
Chapter 11
We made our way, winding around buildings and past even more smiling people. We got to the last door in what appeared to be a row of homes, all in one building. I already knew Ryker was nearby.
“What is this place?” I asked as I followed Burn into the sparse room.
“Ryker’s place.” Burn turned and hollered, “Ryker?” He then moved to a faded blue couch and flopped down, kicking his feet up onto a rough piece of wood that served as a table.
“Be right there,” Ryker called back from the other room.
Other than the couch, there was nothing extravagant about the place. Where was the large manor house? Or palace, even? He lived…here? Was he poor? No. There’d been more food than I’d ever seen, not to mention the soap. Nothing about this place made any sense.
Ryker walked out a couple of seconds later, glancing over me as if the room were empty except for Burn. Then his eyes shot right back, as if he barely recognized me.
I swung on Burn. “He’s looking at me weird too. I want my clothes back.”
“If I’m looking at you weird for a second it’s because I can’t believe that there was actually skin under all that dirt. Sit.” Ryker pointed to the chair near the sofa.
I sat. I did have a lot of dirt on me before.
“You hanging out?” Ryker asked Burn, as if he were surprised but pleased.
Burn scrunched up his face and twisted his mouth to the side before popping back off the couch. “Nah, healers give me the creeps.”
“She’s not here yet. You want to come hang for the training?” Ryker asked as Burn made his way for the door.
I watched Burn, hoping he’d stay. Please say yes, please say yes. The room already felt suffocating with Ryker here. Even though Burn was Wyrd Blood too, and in theory, there would be that much more magic in the area, I knew what it felt like when it was only Ryker and I. Burn needed to hang around.
Burn stopped by the door, hand on the knob, looked at the two of us, and said, “Nah, I got a lot to do.”
Burn left and then there were two.
Silence fell.
Ryker walked over to the door and turned to me, giving me all his attention. His stare made me feel edgy. I’d liked it better when he tried to ignore me.
He rested a hand on the knob. “Can you train or are you too weak?”
“We train outside?” There was a way to get out of this small room with only the two of us?
He nodded, and I knew he wanted out as much as I did.
“I can train. I feel fantastic.” I felt like shit, but I’d fake it all day rather than sit here.
He raised an eyebrow. He might not have believed me, but he said, “Come on.”
I followed him and let the lead grow until there was a nice gap between us. We were quickly leaving the city and entering the wooded area surrounding it.
“How long is this training going to take?” I asked, as I followed him down a well-trodden dirt path.
“Probably much longer than either of us want,” he said, now about ten feet ahead of me.
I didn’t like him either, but did he have to color everything he said with it? “Is longer than either of us want approximately a week or a couple of days?”
“Hopefully weeks, but probably closer to months.”
I lost sight of him around a bend and then found that the path had opened up into a small field he was standing in, waiting for me.
I stopped, keeping the ten-foot buffer in place. “I already broke through your wards. I hardly think I need that much work.”
“You didn’t break through mine. You broke through one of my people’s, and it was purposefully weaker than intended. I don’t try and keep Wyrd Blood out. I want to know when they arrive, especially ones who can waltz through wards with ease.”
He smirked as he let me know I’d pranced right into his trap. How did people follow this man? It had appeared as if Burn actually liked him. All I saw was an arrogant man who thought he knew everything, and I was the peasant he was going to step all over to get what he needed.
“Then tell me what I need to do, Lord Ryker.” I said “lord” the way he said “thief,” not that I expected him to notice.
“It’s Ryker.”
So, he did notice. A lord of a country who didn’t like to give himself a title? I didn’t buy it. He probably had people call him king in private.
His magic poked me again, the way it’d done when I was in the room, before I thought we’d made peace.
“Breaking wards is only the beginning of what you need to learn. You have to be able to build one, too, or you’ll be a sitting duck once you get in.” He poked me a few more times.
“Stop doing that.”
He continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “Then there’s your control. Right now, your magic is flying out of you in a disorganized mess, chaotic shots out in every direction. You need to pull it tight to you, as if it were a force surrounding you. If you can’t control your magic, you’re going to be like a rabid dog on a killing spree for the rest of your life.”
I took a couple of steps back, wondering if that would lessen the magical poking. It didn’t. I tried a couple of different spots.
“Once you get in, the person who made the ward is going to know. With that kind of magic, there’s a good chance that anyone else who’s Wyrd Blood is going to sense you. That’s why you’ve got to drop the ward and immediately put one up around you and keep it up until I get you out. Moving isn’t going to help you.” He shoved so hard with his magic that I fell on my ass. How did he do that?
“You’re stronger. I got the point. Are you going to help me or just shove me around all day?” I got up right away and brushed the dirt from my pants.
“I am helping you. You want me to stop? Learn.” He pushed me again. I stayed on my feet this time, but only because I’d expected it and widened my stance.
Then he poked harder.
“You better watch out, because once I can push back, you’re in trouble.”
“That’s not the kind of gifts you have.” He pushed.
“How do you know?” Most Wyrd Blood had no idea what they had until it showed up one day, either by trial and error or dumb luck.
“Because I’d sense it.”
He continued to push.
Sometimes I fell. Sometimes I managed to stand. Nothing about this felt like training. It felt like he was still pissed off I’d stolen food from his chugger.
After another twenty pokes, I snapped. “Why don’t you just punch me if you’re so angry?”
“And you need to learn to control your temper.” He, on the other hand, was perfectly calm. He walked over to the perimeter and picked up a stick.
“Are we done, or is this when you start beating me with that branch?” I sat with an undignified thump onto the ground.
“Neither.” His back was to me, so I couldn’t see his face, but it sounded like he might’ve been smiling when he said it. I was glad he found the idea of beating me humorous.
He dug a circle in the dirt around him as he chanted until it closed.
He tossed the stick to the ground and turned to me. “The bigger a ward is, usually the weaker it is. A tight ward like this is going to be very hard to get through, even for someone who’s a natural ward breaker. Once you can get through this one, you’ll be ready to get through anything they’ve got.”
I was a natural ward breaker. I liked that. It sounded…important. Special, even. I’d felt exhausted a second ago, but the looming challenge in front of me had me nearly jumping to my feet again. Maybe this was something I’d be good at, like he thought? The fact that he stood there so nonchalantly, as if I had n
o shot of breaking his ward, didn’t hurt matters either. Months my ass. I’d break it this afternoon, and after his healer bought me some time, I’d get the hell out of here. First I’d find Ruck and my crew, let them know I was okay, then figure out a way to find the Debt Collector on my own. It was too dangerous for them to go with me.
I sauntered toward where he stood and then hit the ward. I bounced and then staggered back, as if everything I’d just given it had been thrown at the side of a cliff. I’d seen that happen before, but not to me. Never to me.
Ryker was standing inside his circle, I told you so prominently displayed on his face.
It only added fuel to my charging. The next time I hit it, I didn’t stagger back—I bounced and fell.
He leaned closer and softly said, “You might want to try a little less ramming and a lot more finesse. A ward is woven magic. Brute force doesn’t usually work, but you never know.”
I didn’t want to follow his instructions, but I did want to get through that damn ward and get back to my crew. Wiping the look off his face wouldn’t be a bad outcome, either.
I approached it softly and tried to slowly step through it. It felt like I was trying to step through a wall. “You knew that wouldn’t work. Are you trying to help me or get a laugh?”
His hard angles softened slightly. “Magic is a muscle. It’s like lifting a weight. You’ve got a lot of it, but you’ve never done much with it. It’s going to take a while.”
It was the first time since I’d met him that he hadn’t talked to me as if I were a bug to squash. I nodded and took a couple of steps to gather up some more energy.
“What is it that you want in Bedlam, anyway?”
“Why are you called Bugs?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Just a nickname.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“I’ve had it for so long, I don’t remember.”
“Did you know your magic flares when you’re lying?”
Actually, I had. What I hadn’t known was that other people felt it. Live and learn.
I’d geared up to ram into the ward when he said, “Time to quit.”
What was it with this guy? He’d poked me, had me run into a ward, and now he thought I was too weak? We’d see who’d quit first. I gave as good as I got. “I can keep going.”
“No. You can’t.”
“Yes, I…” I wobbled and went down for the count.
Chapter 12
I woke up laid out on Ryker’s couch. An old woman hovered over me, her grey dreadlocks brushing the skin of my arm. Her face was nearly at my chin as she stared at my chest, bony fingers prodding at me. This had to be the healer.
Ryker stood behind her on the other side of the room. The distance didn’t fool me. His attention was intent, and I felt a little flare of his magic in the room.
“It’s bad, but I’ve seen worse.” She straightened and looked at Ryker. “You know I can’t cure it.”
“I’m aware. I need six months or so.”
Six months? He’d said months, but that was a really long time to leave my crew. If I didn’t, though, I was dead. Dead didn’t help anyone. Dead didn’t feed crews. It was an easy choice.
She grabbed my wrist with one hand and laid her other hand over my chest. If I wasn’t so scared of dying, I’d tell her to get her voodoo hands off me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t just scared of dying, I was terrified, so I tried to keep my face blank instead.
But it was rough. I didn’t like the way her magic was poking at my magic. It wasn’t anything compared to Ryker’s pokes, but it was hard to keep mine settled down enough to not push back. I didn’t want to kill this woman, but I had a limit to how much I could be poked in a day.
Ryker was standing behind her shoulder, and as blank as I’d made my face, he read it chapter and verse. I read his as well. It was screaming, Don’t you dare shove her off.
I replied, It’s my body and I can shove off anyone I’m capable of shoving. He might be a good read, but there was no way he caught all that. He tilted his head a bit to the side, though, proving he’d caught the gist of my mood.
The healer dropped her hands before I was fed up enough to do something about it. Seeing as she was there to help me, I would have endured quite a while longer. Not that Ryker needed to know that tidbit.
The healer, hands down by her side now, gave her verdict: “Her magic is strong enough, if a bit chaotic. It can be done if you have someone else with compatible magic.”
“I have compatible magic.”
“So she has it like that, does she?” The healer’s eyes widened, as if she’d heard something interesting, her attention fixed on me again.
My eyes shot from her to him. Did she just figure out my magical limits by doing that?
Ryker gave a slight nod before telling the healer, “Yes, and that information isn’t for repeating. Or selling.”
When had we become a team that I was looking at him to know whether to trust her? That was a slippery slope, and I needed to back far away from the ledge.
“What’s compatible magic?” I asked, shifting my attention to Ryker again. Why had I asked him and not the healer, who’d brought up the subject? Hadn’t I just told myself to back away from relying on him in any way? Even for information?
“It means this will work.” He spoke as flat as the floor we were standing on.
Clearly, he was withholding. Prime example of why not to trust him. I couldn’t trust any of them. He wanted something from me. That was the only reason he was doing this, and if I wanted to get out of this in one piece, I better not forget it.
The healer cleared her throat. “The cost is steep. It’ll be a year, and then I get another six months. Eighteen months in all.”
“Done,” Ryker said.
I was still trying to figure out what they were talking about. “What does that mean?”
“Eighteen months off his life.”
Wait a second. I didn’t like the guy, but that wasn’t fair. I couldn’t let this healer person suck years off his life. I put my hands up. “I can’t take over a year—”
“Not your choice,” Ryker said.
It wasn’t my choice, and what else was I going to do? I didn’t want to die.
The healer watched me, and I got the sense she was giving me a choice. “You have a couple weeks at most if you don’t do it,” she said.
“That’s it?” A couple weeks. Fourteen days. If Ryker and the healer didn’t do this, I wouldn’t ever see my crew again.
She nodded. She’d be paid handsomely for the deal, not that I knew what you did with eighteen months of someone’s life. If you could transfer it, I was sure people would pay well. I knew what I’d pay. But I didn’t think she was lying about the amount of time I had left. I knew what I felt like.
If I took a year and a half from him, and left him in the lurch after that, I’d be as bad a person as he thought I was. Fuck!
Ryker walked over and waved his hand, signaling me to make space for him so he could sit beside me. He rolled up his shirt sleeve until it was halfway up his bicep. I didn’t argue.
The old woman’s voice softened as she said, “It’s not as much as you would think, dear. Take the gesture.”
I had no other choice. I rolled up my sleeve.
As I stared at the healer’s dark eyes, it clicked. I’d heard some people with enough magic didn’t age the same; it was like one of their years was worth two or three of a dull’s. Ryker definitely had enough magic to possibly be one of them.
Still, eighteen months. How did I screw someone when they did that? I’d thought he’d throw her a coin or two or something. Not this.
The healer walked over to a bag she must’ve brought in with her and dug around. She pulled out a wooden stick that had been carved into a two-headed snake, fangs protruding on each side, with a foot’s worth of scales in between.
“What is that?” I asked as the healer headed toward me with it.
“It’s for the tran
sfusion.”
Ryker held out his arm, as if he’d read my skepticism. “Do my side first. She’s not long on trust.”
The healer placed the wooden head near Ryker’s vein. The thing came to life and bit down with a vengeance. He lolled his head back, as if he were going to nap soon.
The healer turned to me, one snake head left.
I thrust my arm out before I could change my mind. It bit down. Its wooden fangs felt like jagged razor blades as they sank into my flesh. I feared it was going to hit bone, but then it stopped.
“Oh, it really likes you,” the healer said, as if that were a good thing. A lukewarm reception would’ve sufficed.
Ryker was staring straight ahead, but I knew he was watching me. Probably expected me to cry or something. He could wait all day for that.
“How long does this take?” Please, don’t let this take all day. I wouldn’t cry, but I might not be above a little whining.
The healer grabbed her bag. “An hour, maybe? It’ll let go when it’s done. I’ll be back after I see a few people.”
An hour? The healer headed off while her snake thingy kept its teeth locked down.
We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes before I remembered that I had no idea how I’d gotten to his rooms. “How did I get here, by the way?”
“Are you asking if I carried you through the camp like a sack of potatoes?”
Did he have to find it so entertaining? “Yes, that is what I’m asking.”
“Then yes, that is what I did.”
“Were there—”
“Unless it’s four in the morning, there’s always a lot of people around.”
Why had I thought talking was a good idea? I bounced my head off the back of the couch a couple of times when I realized he smelled good. Like, really good, even better than the soap I’d used. The smell reminded me of this one stretch of trees near the Ruined City where the air always seemed to smell fresher.
We’d been sitting there for about thirty minutes when my skin started to warm. It wasn’t in a feverish way, but like I’d forgotten how cold I’d been for the last few months. My fingers tingled and I could nearly feel the power surging through my veins.
Wyrd Blood Page 6
