by Kaylin Lee
After nearly an hour of practice, I finally stopped and stood panting in the center of the room. “That’s—” I gasped for breath. I put my hands on my knees and bent over, doing my best to restore my breathing to normal, feeling like the city’s biggest fool.
Darien watched me quietly from the wall.
When my breathing finally calmed, I straightened. “That’s my training. But I’ve been trying to add more sprinting. I’m quick, when it comes to getting close to targets.” I clenched my fists. “But I’m just not fast enough to get away from her. Not when it comes to running longer distances. And if she’s close enough to use her power as a mover, or to use my True Name and command me to stop, I don’t stand a chance.”
Darien nodded once and then shifted his weight off of the wall. “You’re quick. That’s good. It’s likely kept you alive this long. But you lack the two things you’ll need to escape: speed at longer distances, as you know, and strength.”
“Strength?” I crossed my arms. “I’m quite strong—”
He walked toward me, shaking his head. “You’re strong. I’ve no doubt. But not strong enough. It’s too easy for her to overpower you.”
Ridiculous. “She’s an expellant mage.” Didn’t he understand? “A mover. A powerful one. It would be impossible to overpower her magic.”
“No.” He stopped walking and removed his outer jacket. “I could resist her.”
Now that was just arrogance. “You? You don’t even have magic. And how would you know, anyway?”
The corner of his mouth pulled up on one side, forming a cocky smile that was far too handsome and made my chest flutter strangely. “I’ve done it. Not with her, but with other mages. Other movers. They work by propelling their own stored-up magic and pushing it against their target. But there’s only so much magic they can push out. If you were stronger, you could resist her power.”
Resist her? The wild fluttering in my chest got stronger. Could it truly be possible?
“The second thing you need is to improve your speed.” He chewed his lip and spun in a slow circle, taking in the whole room. “There’s not much space, but we can work with it. Can we move your bed?”
I nodded. “That’s fine. I would have moved it myself, but …” It was too heavy. But now that he’d spent so much time dissecting my lack of strength, I didn’t feel like admitting that.
“Good.” He strode to the bed and put a hand on each side, then dragged it, with a bone-chilling screech until it was pressed tightly along the wall. “There we go.” He clapped his hands. “I think I’ve got it. Are you ready?”
No. Not in the slightest. But I was ready to be free. I just had to keep that in the forefront of my mind. “Y-yes.”
He showed me a series of exercises meant for strengthening my arms, legs, and back. I copied his movements self-consciously, avoiding eye contact as he evaluated my form and made suggestions about how to increase the weight as my strength grew.
When my arms and legs were visibly shaking from the exertion, he clapped his hands again. “Time to work on speed.”
He strode to the far end of the room and grabbed two books from the bookshelf. Then he placed one on the ground by his feet, jogged in a straight line to the opposite side of the tower, and dropped the other one. “Watch me.”
Darien bent his knees and placed one foot ahead of the other, then shot me a meltingly handsome smile that sent warmth spiking through my stomach. Then he launched himself forward and sprinted across the tower in several leaping steps, where he skittered to a halt beside the other book and swept it up in one hand. Then he turned on his heel and sprinted back to the other book, dropped the first, scooped up the second, and raced back.
Four laps later, he jogged to a stop in front of me. My head spun from his rapid movements. “Can you do that?” He was barely out of breath.
“I believe so.”
As it turned out, I couldn’t. Not quite. I made it two rounds in before my legs seized up and I tripped, landing hard on my knees mid-sprint. I forgot myself and cried out from the pain. How humiliating!
He reached down and pulled me to my feet. “You’re tired,” he said. He didn’t let go of my hand. “You’re bruised, and your muscles are sore. You pushed yourself hard last night and again today, and then I went and pushed you even further on top of it all. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Zel.”
The feel of his skin on mine had my ears buzzing, and I could barely follow the words of his apology. Why would he touch me?
I stared down at my hand clasped in his, my legs shaking and my breath still coming in gasps—not from the exertion, but from his nearness.
He moved his thumb on the back of my hand in a small circle, a strange, tender gesture that made me want to weep. Then he dropped my hand and patted me once on the shoulder, shoving me toward the small bathroom at the edge of the tower. “Take a bath,” he said, his voice gruff. “Your muscles will feel better with the hot water. I’ll show you some more speed exercises to do later.”
I practically ran to the bathroom, shutting the door with a thud and leaning against it. I stared down at my hand, holding it out in front of me like it had been covered with a deadly poison. Why would he do that? The questions echoed in my head, whirling and pummeling me until I thought I might be sick.
The gentle stroke of his thumb on my hand wouldn’t leave my mind. I could still feel it on the back of my hand. My heart fluttered like a caged bird in my chest, skipping beats here and there, irregular and confused.
I had to put him from my mind. It felt impossible when he was taking up far too much space in my narrow tower, waiting on the other side of this thin door, but I couldn’t just stand here like a lovesick girl. “Wake up. You’re not a girl,” I hissed under my breath. “You’re a killer.”
Chapter 4
Darien was right. The bath helped. I collapsed into the hot tub and couldn’t help groaning aloud as I sank deep into the steamy water. Leaning back against the end of the tub and shutting my eyes, I willed the memory of his hand on mine to go away.
A series of footsteps thumped around next to the bathroom door, and I jumped, tensing in the tub. When they stepped away, I relaxed.
I couldn’t get used to the idea that Darien was on the other side of the door. I had to send him away soon—as soon as it was safe. I couldn’t live like this, so nervous and jumpy, so uncomfortable in my tower. The tower was my only refuge. I couldn’t lose it for the sake of a strange man, no matter how handsome he might be.
Had he forgotten who I was when he held my hand? Or had he done it knowingly? And why did I so desperately want to know the answer to that question?
I slid down in the water as a breeze slipped through the small open window beside the bath, sending goosebumps over my arms and shoulders. Bright sunlight filtered through the window and reflected off the white surfaces in the little bathroom. I focused on the water dripping from the bath faucet, the rustling leaves in the garden outside, and the noisy chirping of the birds in the trees.
I knew why I’d reacted so strongly to his touch. I just didn’t want to admit it. But what was the point of cowardice? If I could face myself in the mirror each day, I could face the truth.
I desperately wanted someone to touch.
If only I could know the kiss of a husband, the embrace of a sister, or even a casual pat on the back from a friend upon meeting at the market. Anything—I’d take anything. But touches like that would never be a part of my life. Not for someone like me.
I sighed and sat up in the water, grabbing the thin sliver of spiceberry soap from the shelf to wash myself off, massaging my sore muscles as I went.
For a few moments, I allowed myself to indulge in my old daydreams, the ones that had formed years earlier while poring over the novels that Darien had found so silly. What would it be like to live in my own seaside villa in Lerenia? Or perhaps a brightly lit apartment in Asylia? I imagined going to bed beside a loving husband who would stroke my back until I slept and bouncing a rosy
-cheeked baby on my hip the next morning. I dreamed of safety, of abundance—fresh fruits, hearty meat stews, beautiful frosted cakes—luxuries I’d only glimpsed on outings with the Wasp.
But when the water cooled and the soap was rinsed from my skin, I put the dreams away, pressing them back down into the dark, dusty box in my mind to wait for the next time.
If I ever escaped, there could be no chance of a peaceful life for me. At best, I would find an empty patch of earth in the Badlands and eke out a solitary existence away from the control of the Dracian clans or anyone else. I’d never have love, peace, or comfort.
My fantasies were useful. They kept me moving, day after day, no matter how hard things got. Even so, the dreams had to be kept in their place.
~
“Your food. This is it?” Darien stood before me in the center of the room, holding the canvas bag of food Helis had brought that morning.
I hovered just outside the bathroom door, my hair hanging in wet ropes down my back, soaking my clean blue dress. “Yes.”
Darien grimaced. “And how often do they bring you more food?”
“It depends.” I cocked my head, thinking back over the past few months. “Usually right after an outing. So, it could be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. I try to make it last. But some of the foods must be eaten quickly, or they’ll spoil.” I’d learned that one the hard way.
His frown deepened. “Weeks?” He shook his head and tossed the bag back to the shadowy corner where I normally stored it. “This isn’t enough.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Zel. You can’t—” He broke off and made a frustrated sound under his breath. “This isn’t—”
I stepped closer. “What? It isn’t what?”
He crossed his arms. “This is a problem, Zel. You can’t demand that kind of training from your body without fueling it properly.”
My cheeks flushed. “Well, it’s not as though I have any choice in the—”
He huffed and cut me off. “I know, I know. It’s not up to you. But this isn’t going to work. You can’t increase your strength and your speed when all you eat is a small bag of greasy, nearly-spoiled foods every couple of weeks. You need consistent, nutritious food.”
I’d agonized over sharing my food with him for the noon meal, and he had the nerve to complain about its quality? Just what did this man want from me? “You’re a fine one to criticize. You know, I didn’t have to let you—”
He laughed, cutting me off mid-sentence again. I bared my teeth at him, but he didn’t step back. In fact, he stepped closer, and then put two overly-warm, strong hands on my shoulders.
My heart nearly stopped beating.
“I know. It’s amazing, what you’ve managed to do. To survive this long. To become this strong. I mean no disrespect.” He dipped his head to peer into my face. “I admire you, Zel. I only want to help. Can you please trust me? Believe me?”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t look away from his warm, green eyes. His touch and sincerity shook me. I wasn’t sure if I hated the feeling or loved it. All I knew was that I didn’t want to say or do anything that might cause him to remove his warm hands from my shoulders.
After a moment of silence, he released me.
Restraining a groan of frustration, I said, “Fine. I believe you. But I don’t see how you expect me to find more food when I’m trapped in here for weeks on end.”
He stared down at me with an indecipherable look. Heat from his body warmed my cool skin, and I leaned toward him unconsciously. He did the same.
What was I thinking? What was he thinking, for that matter? And yet, I couldn’t pull away. I wouldn’t. I wanted to be close to him.
When his eyes dipped down to my lips, my heart skipped a beat. I leaned closer, and he bent his head. Was he …? Could he possibly …? He wouldn’t, would he?
“Rapunzel. Your ladder. Let it down this instant. And Rapunzel, do no harm.”
I yelped and leaped away from Darien at the harsh sound of the Wasp Queen’s voice coming from the garden below my tower. What would she do if she discovered him here?
Darien’s shoulders tensed and his fists clenched, as though he was preparing for a fight. Would he fight her? Could he? No! I couldn’t let that happen. She’d order me to kill him, and then she’d destroy me—what was left of me, anyway.
My feet moved toward the window of their own accord, so I spun to face Darien, walking backward. “The bathroom,” I hissed. “Don’t make a sound. Promise me.” I spat the words out with as much force as I could inject into a whisper.
He remained in that tense posture, watching me with a guarded expression. I glared at him. He had better not reveal himself, or all would be lost. Then a new thought struck. I swallowed back the bile that filled my throat and flicked a glance over my shoulder to the window. I was nearly there.
“While I’m out,” I whispered loudly, praying the Wasp couldn’t hear my words, “The ladder will be down, and the tower will be unobserved. It would be the best time to escape.”
His face remained shuttered, giving no indication that he’d heard or agreed. My back hit the stone wall by the window, and I turned away from Darien, my hands rushing to put the ladder down in response to the Wasp’s urgent command. I could only hope that Darien would do as I said. I didn’t want to have his death on my conscience too.
A useless tear leaked out of one eye, and I dashed it away. The ladder hit the ground, and the Wasp Queen scaled it more rapidly than ever before. I stepped away from the window, not daring to look behind me to see if Darien remained.
Not his death, I whispered in my head. I could mourn the others. I could apologize for the others. But not this one. Please, not this one.
Chapter 5
“Helis, is that the best you can do?” The Wasp Queen’s voice was acid and sharp today. She stood behind me, facing the mirror, her shoulders tense and slightly hunched. Was the Wasp nervous?
I strained to hear every sound around me. There’d been no noise from the bathroom since the Wasp and Helis had arrived in the tower, but I couldn’t let my guard down. I could only hope that, if the worst happened and he was discovered, he’d have time to escape before the Wasp’s kill order sank into my will. Perhaps I could create a distraction, give him time to—
A hot wave of magic hit my head, and I flinched, unprepared for the burning heat. What was that fool Helis doing now?
“My lady, her hair was too wet from washing to style properly. I’ve done my best to heat it and dry it, but I’m not a mover or creator mage.”
I put a hand up to the damp bun coiled at the back of my neck. It was still wet, but significantly drier after her attempt to burn me. It had to be good enough for the Wasp. I didn’t relish the thought of another burning session.
“Fine.” The Wasp Queen crossed her arms. Her dark hair hung loose and wavy around her face, and her lips shone with deep red gloss. But her dress was odd. Today, she wore a thick, structured gown of pale gray instead of her typical garb of thin, body-hugging red mage-craft fabric. It dipped low in the chest and hugged her waist tightly, but otherwise, it flowed normally to the ground.
Perhaps this was how the Wasp dressed in the daylight hours when she wasn’t plotting the murder of an ally. Of course, her appearance at my tower in the middle of the day suggested otherwise.
What had happened in the streets and villas of Draicia since I’d killed the Wolf clan’s leader last night? To my knowledge, the Wolf clan was one of the most powerful in the city. Had there been reprisals yet? Did his brothers know the Wasp had killed him? And just where was she taking me?
Helis waved her hand in front of my face, and a warm wave of magic dusted a light pink color on my face that brought life to my cheeks. I wore a modest black gown with a bright white collar at my neck, and my thick blonde hair was pulled into an austere bun at the nape of my neck.
It was odd to see myself with a mage-craft appearance in the light of day. The gray light from outside cast unflattering shadows
on my thin face, making the bones appear to jut out more than usual. The Wasp typically ordered her maids to beautify me before an outing, especially in these past few years as I’d grown into a woman. Today, she’d made me look plain and dull. An unassuming maidservant, then, meant to escape notice. That must be it. But whose servant was I supposed to be?
I slipped my feet into the black boots on the floor in front of me and faced the Wasp.
She huffed out a breath. “Let’s get moving, girl.” She glared at Helis who stepped away from me reflexively. “Rapunzel, follow me. Remain at my side, no matter what. If anyone tries to harm me, kill them. And do not speak a word to anyone.”
She spun on her heel and strode to the window.
Helis huddled against the tower wall as my feet carried me along, following the Wasp. If only I could insist that Helis leave the tower now. What if Darien didn’t realize she was still here, and he came out of the bathroom? What if she took it upon herself to explore the tower? There was nothing I could do now. I couldn’t even speak, much less force her to leave.
My True Name carried me the rest of the way to the window and forced me over the edge. I hurried down the ladder to keep up with the Wasp’s command not to leave her side.
The wind rustled the leaves in the trees as I followed closely behind her through the wood around the tower. The sky was a smooth whitish-gray, and I squinted against the pale light that shone down through gaps in the tree canopy.
If I had the chance to escape, would I? Fleeing without the cover of darkness did not seem ideal. What if someone else caught me—someone worse than her? Besides, I needed to practice my strength and speed like Darien had said. If I escaped today, I’d only be caught, punished, and locked away again.
I shook my head as I hurried along the root-strewn path through the wood. I wouldn’t escape today, not even if I had a clear chance. It had nothing to do with the dangers of being caught, and everything to do with the kind, wild-haired man hiding in my tower.
When had I become such a fool?
