by Natalie Grey
“’Sarah died,’” I repeated bitterly. “I guess that’s one way to say it.”
“I killed her. Is that what you want to hear?” He met my eyes, and his own were flat. His jaw was clenched. He didn’t like killing people.
That was good to know.
I tried not to feel guilty for backing him into this corner. Whether or not he liked killing people, he had killed Sarah. “Yeah. That was what I wanted to hear.” I looked away. “Not that it helps, I guess.”
“I won’t apologize for killing someone who was trying to kill me,” he said quietly. “And I won’t feel guilty about it.”
I didn’t look back. He did feel guilty, I could tell.
“And what she interfered with….” He sighed. “The Monarchists would never tell you the truth about the horrors magic once visited on this world—about the horrors they’re preparing to unleash again. There are more lives at stake than just Sarah’s and yours. You must be trained to use your powers, and you must know the history of magic.”
Monarchists. There was that term again. I considered asking what a Monarchist was, and then decided that would be too clear a sign that something was wrong with me. The Acadamh, after all, was something on his side of whatever war this was, but the Monarchists were theoretically on mine. I should know about them.
“Right.” I decided I’d pushed him enough for now. I shrugged and held out my wrists with their vines. “Am I going to learn to do this? Or that sleep thing you did to me?”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “No.”
“Why not?” I had thought it was a perfectly reasonable question.
“You’re a sorceress.” He spoke like he was explaining something to a five year old. “Not a druid.”
“You’re looking at me like I know the difference.” So much for charming him, but he really was being annoying.
He gave me a look at that, and sighed. Then he frowned again. It really was endearing, what that look did to his face, but I told myself not to be ridiculous. He was clearly the very last person I should be mooning over.
“You really don’t know the difference?” he asked me. “This isn’t you … playing dumb? You don’t know anything about the Acadamh, or training?”
“I really don’t.” I hoped I hadn’t just given away something too big.
He chewed his lip while he thought, and turned the meat skewers again. The scent was making me light-headed with hunger, but he clearly didn’t care much about the food in front of him. I took a deep breath and tried to stay focused.
“Your magic is innate,” he said finally. “I was just a normal human, I had to train as a druid to get these powers. But you were born being able to … what is it you do?”
“Huh?” I tore my gaze away from the meat.
He looked at the bindings, just looked at them, and they unraveled. He handed me one of the skewers. “Careful, it’s hot.”
I didn’t care. I snatched it out of his hands and tore into it, burning my tongue and throat and gulping it down anyway. When I looked up, daring him to comment on my manners, he simply handed me the other skewer.
I’d really prefer it if he weren’t being so nice. I reminded myself that taking that handcuffs off after abducting me wasn’t really a favor, even if it seemed to be. I shouldn’t be giving him any credit for it. I tried to keep my voice cold. “So what did you want to know?
“What’s your specialty?” When I said nothing, he prompted me: “Fire, wind, lightning? Metals?”
“I have literally no idea what you mean.” I picked the last pieces of meat off the skewer and looked around for more. When was the last time I had eaten?
“What kind of magic do you do?” he asked. His tone was forcedly patient.
I used the same tone right back at him, crossing my arms. “I’ve never done magic,” I informed him.
“You—you’re sure?” That seemed to totally blindside him. “You don’t remember ever doing … anything?”
“The first thing I remember is being chased through the forest by you.” I realized how weak that sounded. “So, I guess, maybe. But I swear to you, if I have, I don’t know how and I don’t remember.” I gave up trying to hide the fact that I was missing my memory. “And I also swear I’m telling the truth, that’s the first thing I remember. Other than my name.”
“Nicky.” He said my name quietly.
I looked away. I didn’t like him saying it.
There was a long pause.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he said finally, “but right now, you’re dangerous, and you were being used by dangerous people. You need to go to the Acadamh.”
“How am I dangerous? Who was I hurting?”
“You’ve just told me you wouldn’t know if you had been hurting anyone,” he pointed out. “More to the point, you do have magic, and right now, we have to assume that you don’t know how to control it. You also don’t know the true history of magic.” He cut off my question. “Which you have to know, to understand why it’s so important that you do control your magic. The Monarchists would use you in a war that would destroy innocent lives.”
This seemed like a fairly circular argument to me, but I had zero illusions about my ability to escape right now. I was tired, I was still hungry, and I didn’t have any idea where we were.
I decided to get everything out of him that I could. The more I let him talk, I reasoned, the more he’d get off his guard.
“Okay. So tell me about the history of magic.” I looped my arms around my knees.
“They’ll tell you there,” he said firmly. “Do you need more food?”
“No.” I did, but more than that, I needed to know what was going on. “You really can’t tell me anything?”
He hesitated for a moment, stirring the fire with a stick. He came to kneel down in front of me and reached to lay his palms on my temples.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured.
Now! something in me screamed. Kill him now and run! What it was that kept me rooted to the spot, I wasn’t sure. For one thing, I still didn’t have a clue how to use the magic everyone was so sure I had. For another, he smelled vaguely like pine and sweat and something warm….
Or maybe it was his magic. Sure. I’d put it down to that.
“What are you doing?” My voice sounded weird.
“Looking into your mind.” His eyes were focused on mine, but he didn’t seem to see me at all. “Not far, don’t worry.”
I expected to feel something, maybe fingers prying through my mind, maybe my memories rushing back. I had just enough time to be panicked about that idea before I realized it wasn’t happening. The world fell away, and I heard the rustling of trees. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine myself in a world of dappled sunlight and ripening berries, leaves lit green above and birds singing sweetly from the branches above me.
As abruptly as the sensation had wrapped itself around me, it disappeared. Daiman’s hands were gone, and he was staring at me in consternation.
“How do you feel?” he asked me carefully.
I answered before I thought to be flippant. “Fine,” I said honestly. “You didn’t hurt me, don’t worry.”
I tried to suppress a sigh. I was supposed to be charming him, not the other way around. For his part, he seemed entirely consumed with whatever he had seen—and I wanted to know what that was.
“Why did you look?”
“I wanted to know how much you remembered.” He looked worried. “And how your magic was blocked—why I haven’t seen it yet. I wanted to see if I could get a sense of your past.”
“And?”
“I can’t,” he said bluntly.
“You can’t?” A wave of irrational panic hit me. What if I had no past? What if—
Frankly, I didn’t even know what I was afraid of. It was like not having a name, I decided. Everyone had names, and everyone had a past. It just felt wrong not to have one.
“It’s in there.” His voice broke through t
he panic. “But whoever hid it used a spell I can’t just push aside. Actually, they used more than one.” He shook his head. “If I tried to force it, I might damage your mind. I’ll let the sorcerers at the Acadamh handle it.”
I swallowed hard. “Why would someone do that to me?”
“The only thing I can think of….” He shook his head. “It’s not important. Can you walk? We should get moving.”
I let him help me up. “Thanks. And thanks for the food.” I looked down, and what I saw made my eyes go round. The mossy, fairytale clearing was gone. In its place was hard-packed dirt strewn with leaves, indistinguishable from any other patch of ground in the forest. “Wow.”
He was smiling. “No need to sleep on dirt. And we’ll catch more food on the way. I didn’t realize you were that hungry.” He gave me a half smile that made my stomach turn over. And then, like dumping ice water down my spine, he gave me a knowing look. “By the way—I’ll save you the trouble of coming up with a plan for getting away from me. I’ve got a tracker on you now, and whoever put a lock on your powers, it’s still there. You’re not getting anywhere.”
He’d save me the trouble, or he’d save himself the trouble? I looked down so he wouldn’t see the sudden flash of defiance in my eyes. I’d been starting to warm up to him, and I was glad that he’d reminded me what he was: a Hunter.
A jailor.
Well, like hell was I just going to follow him meekly into a prison cell. If he thought he’d caught me for good, he had another thing coming.
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