03 - Sworn (8 page)

I will ask, though, if it turns out it wasn’t a fluke.
Maybe my magic is just as exhausted as I am.

Maybe if I worked at it…

My stomach turned at the thought. It had been the same since we’d crossed the border. I was fine as long as I let my magic lie. It was when it reared its head and when I thought about using it that fear flashed through me like frozen lightning, along with memories.

But I wouldn’t let fear rule me. I’d come too far, faced too much. I had controlled my magic once, and saved us all. I would master it. Prove myself.

I closed my eyes and tried to let my magic fill me as my teacher Griselda Beaumage had taught me back at the school on Belleisle. No pressure. No thought. The familiar warmth came, and I tried to accept it instead of analyzing it. It felt good. Natural. Not as strong as the overwhelming power that filled me when we escaped the city. Or after.

Dorset Langley’s face appeared in my mind, setting my heart pounding and my skin crawling.
A handsome face, drawn into a snarl, slowly pulling taut as the water left it, forming a puddle at his feet.

Me. I did that.

My magic quieted without me having to tell it to settle and retreated until I barely felt it. A month before I’d have considered that kind of control a miracle, but it felt wrong. Like my power was running from me—or worse, I from it.

I let out a long, slow breath.
The bastard deserved it. You know that, right?

No one deserves that,
I answered myself.
That’s not how I want to use my power.

A shadow appeared against the side of the tent, becoming smaller and disappearing as someone moved out of the lamplight of the path and approached the flaps at the entrance. “Penelo—I mean, Rowan?”

Patience stood outside, holding aside the thin blanket I’d rigged up to cover the gap in the tent flaps. She hesitated, reluctant to step from the lamplight into the dim interior.

I motioned for her to come in. She hung back at the entrance, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

She looked around, squinting, and took in the hard bed. “You could stuff a mattress tomorrow,” she said. “We might have empty sacks around. Lots of last year’s grass still out there. It’d be more comfortable.”

“That’s an excellent idea. Maybe you could help?”

She came in and hopped up to sit on the crates, apparently comfortable now that she’d invested herself. “Probably. I’m a really good woodsman. Actually, I’m good at a lot of things.”

I smiled at her easy confidence. She looked brighter than she had earlier. Perhaps seeing us then had brought on bad memories that dragged her down. “I bet you are. I remember what a wonderful performer you were, too.”

I immediately wished I could take those words back. The girl hardly needed me to remind her of better times, even if those good times had seemed difficult back then. When we met them, her family had recently been attacked and evicted from their home, but at least those who remained had been together.

I couldn’t take the silence, or the slump of the girl’s shoulders. I sat beside her and struggled to find something better to say. “It’s good to see you again. Have you made friends here? I noticed there are a lot of children.”

“Kind of. Some of the littler ones were scared of me when they got here because of how I look. I just don’t get along with the older ones. Most of them still have their parents to take care of them.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I take care of myself, mostly. I kind of have a new mother, but she’s busy.”

Someone outside hit a sour note on a flute, and others laughed. There hadn’t been much in the way of drinks to go around, but it sounded like they were well into the small supply. I hoped they wouldn’t be up late. The private tent was nice, but too close to the party for my liking.

And much too close to Ulric’s.

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Not long. It was winter when the king’s men found us again. Mama and the others were doing their thing to protect us, but it didn’t work. And it was just like the first time, except that there weren’t as many of us, and... well, and not so many of us got away this time. Just me, and Keela—she’s the only lady that got out, the one I’m staying with. And there’s Devlin, Drover, Jimmy. I guess that’s it. No other kids. We joined Goff and Laelana when we met them and their folks.”

“I’m sorry.” It was a great loss of life. Talented children, and adults who had welcomed and sheltered us when we had nothing to offer in return. So much life and potential and worth. This was how the world repaid them.

I thought about my own family then. Not all had abandoned me. My aunt and uncle and their servants Matthew and Della had all loved me like a daughter, but I’d had no word at all from them since my disappearance. I worried often about them and about my parents. I wished I could sort things out with my mother. I missed my brother Ashe, who had been my only ally in my family after I moved back home. Nox had given my mother medicine to treat his recent illness, but I knew nothing about his current condition.

At least they’re alive. That’s more than Patience has.

Patience pulled a thin black scarf from her pocket and tied it over her hair, draping it so that it covered the scar where her eye once was. “What do you think of this?”

“Hmm.” I tilted my head, taking in the effect. I reached out and she flinched slightly, but allowed me to tighten the knot. I adjusted the angle of the scarf to free more of her hair. The fabric covered the damage to her face, and made her look a little more like the girl I remembered. I tucked her hair behind her ear, and this time she relaxed into my touch.

“It looks good,” I said. “Very mysterious. Like you might save the day. Or rob someone.”

She giggled. “I guess that’s pretty close to what I did earlier. Sorry about those guys.”

“It’s not your fault. If you hadn’t been there, we’d have been left with nothing, wouldn’t we? But now we’ve found you, and maybe we can all help each other.”

“Yeah.” She stood and turned to leave, then came back and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back, and she sniffled. “I’m just so glad you guys remember my mama,” she whispered. “Sometimes I think I’m starting to forget her face already.”

She dashed out of the tent.

“Whoa,” Aren said outside. The dancing lamplight cast their faint shadows on the wall of the tent, his tall and lean, hers tiny and thin. “You okay?”

“Good. Thanks.” She ran off, back toward the fire.

“What happened?” I asked as he stepped into the tent. “It sounded like we were being attacked, and then it was all laughter and music again.”

“The fire got a little out of control,” he said. “We took care of it. At least the people seem impressed, which should be helpful.”

I nodded at the thin white bandage wrapped around his right hand. “Was that part of taking care of it?”

“It’s nothing.” He held up his hand to wiggle his fingers, as though that proved the point. “You’ve seen how Nox fusses. I would have been fine.” I narrowed my eyes at him, and he smiled. “Nice to see that Patience is still your friend even now that you’re using your real name.”

“Oh, yes. She’s going to be my source of information, you know. I have to get in good with the locals.”

Aren smirked at my facetious tone. “Your big assignment. Are you disappointed?”

I shrugged. I didn’t want to admit to him how being overlooked undercut my confidence. “Should I be?”

“No. You should be glad you don’t have to sit with him at meals. Come here.”

I stood and shuffled sideways to the door in two steps, and he pulled me close. He smelled of heavy smoke and something herbal that reminded me of Nox’s potions the night after we’d escaped Ardare. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

“What, since you saw me at supper?”

“Mmm-hmm. It’s been far too long. I’d have come here with you earlier, but my father—”

“I know.” The situation left much to be desired, but at least I had him for the moment, and everyone else was safe. Well, everyone I knew about.

“Not to change the subject,” I said, “but you haven’t seen Florizel around yet, have you?”

“No. I wouldn’t expect to.”

I leaned back. “Do you think she’s gone for good? I told her to escape, but...”

“She’s a flying horse, and flight is in her nature in more ways than one. Her instinct is to rely on her herd, and she’d be trained to flee at the first sign of danger. It’s incredible that she fought that off for long enough to get you out of the city, but to ask her to spend her days with this many ignorant humans and their weapons would be cruel. She’s probably suffering from the after-effects of your escape just as much as you are.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m not suffering anything.”

“Liar,” he muttered, though not unpleasantly, perhaps remembering all of the times he’d said similar things to me. He didn’t press the issue. We’d talk when I was ready.

Gods, I love you,
I thought as a familiar, pleasant ache spread through my chest. We had our differences, but the deeper ways in which we understood each other covered the gaps.

“I hope Florizel will come back,” he continued, “but she’ll be better off away from camp and our problems here.” He released me and looked around the tent. “Not bad. Are we alone?”

I grinned. “Taking the smaller tent was a terrible hardship, but I volunteered even though it means I have to be alone with you all night.”

“How horrid,” he agreed as I ran a hand down his arm.

“I’m sure the others will have much more fun together in their—”

He pulled me into a kiss that turned my knees to clay. One of his arms wrapped around my waist as I tangled the fingers of both my hands in his dark hair, drawing him closer, urging him on as his lips brushed over my jaw, my throat, and my collarbone. I moaned softly as his free hand grazed my breast. He pulled the hem of my shirt out of my pants, and I raised my arms over my head to pull them out of the sleeves.

He slipped out of his shirt and reached for the laces on my pants.

“We can’t lock that door,” I said.

“No. Do you care?”

I took in the dim outline of his body, and tingling heat spread through my own. Instead of answering, I pushed his hands away and undid the knots myself, hooked my thumbs into the waistline of my pants, and slipped them down over my hips.

He took in a sharp breath and pushed me back on the crate bed. With only a few blankets covering the wood it was hardly comfortable, but I was beyond caring. This was the first time we’d had alone together since he’d left Belleisle to search for his father. Not a day had gone by since then when I hadn’t craved his touch. I’d thought I lost him forever when they threw me in a Darmish prison, and still wondered every time I looked at him how it was possible that he’d found me.

We’d spent the nights since then sleeping next to each other as our health and his magic recovered, separated only when it was time for each of us to take watch, but it wasn’t enough. Not by far.

This... this is what I need.

The fire outside dimmed as people made their way past our tent to their own meager homes, some singing, some shouting, others shushing them. Aren leaned closer to the door and listened, then shed the rest of his clothes as the tent grew dark.

“Try to get some sleep, children!” Kel called as he passed. A slapping noise and a laughed “ow” indicated that Nox was still out there with him, or possibly Cassia.

I shivered. Though the days were growing warmer as we traveled south and the calendar moved toward spring, the nights were still cold.

Aren’s hands weren’t, though, or his body as he laid it over mine. He propped himself up on one forearm and with his other hand he brushed my hair away from my face, then placed a kiss between my eyes.

“Rowan,” he murmured. My fingertips pressed into the skin on his back, tracing the faint ridges of the scar that spread out from his right shoulder. My breath caught in my throat as he kissed me again.

The camp grew silent around us, leaving us as good as alone. The morning would bring duties and demands that neither of us could escape, but in that moment there was only us, only our bodies and our magic, warm breath and whispered promises that it would be us, together, always.

I only hoped the pounding of my heart wouldn’t keep the rest of the camp awake.

5

ROWAN

A
rooster crowed, ordering the sun and the community out of bed, and the heavy thump of wood landing in the fire pit signaled that at least one person had obeyed. He called out to someone who shouted back from the other end of camp, and with that, the place swarmed to life.

Inside the tent, I struggled to get moving. Even with Aren’s arm to rest my head on and a few wool blankets beneath us, my back had grown stiff and my muscles tender overnight. My breath came out in a plume of white as I climbed over him and collected my clothes from the floor.

Aren yawned. “Come back,” he mumbled. “I’m not ready to start the day.”

I sighed. “I’m supposed to be making friends.”

“
I’m
your friend. Get over here.”

He held the blanket up, and I slipped underneath. Aren pulled me close and rested his chin on the top of my head, and I molded my body to his, trying to steal his warmth.
Just for a minute,
I told myself. We wouldn’t get on anyone’s good side by being lazy and letting them do all of the work. Aren might be able to command their respect because of his power and status, but...

But nothing. I’m powerful, too, even if I’m not a princess.

So where did that leave me? I wasn’t going to be the sort of person who lorded my power over others, who expected special treatment. Aren had been raised that way, and he was trying to get past it. I had the advantage of growing up thinking I was perfectly average. No point letting magic go to my head.

I would volunteer for breakfast duty, be friendly, gather information. I told myself that the idea of not using magic wasn’t a relief, but the tension flowed from my shoulders as I considered a day with no worries about hurting anyone, and maybe no horrid memories sneaking up on me.