A Curse of Blood & Stone (Fate & Flame 2)

“You won’t, if I have anything to do with it.”

His chest lifts with a deep inhale, and then the playfulness evaporates. “We have much to plan. It has been decades since Elisaf and I were last in Venhorn. We’re not sure what to expect, between the Ybarisans, the saplings, and even the mortals of Woodswich. Frankly, we are not sure what to expect between here and there either. I have sent Drakon and Iago ahead to scout our path in case of surprises, but we must strategize.”

“So … king things again.”

“As one does.” He watches two legionaries lift a wine barrel out of the food wagon. “The others will likely find their rest on the ground around the wagons, so do not fear, you will be safe enough.”

“I’m not worried.” We’re camped in the middle of a field. I hesitate. “This is nice. Being able to talk like this again.”

“It is. But neither of us can forget our immediate priorities.”

“I haven’t.” Though I’m realizing that nothing is more important to me than the looming male standing inches away.

My wagon door screeches open, and Gesine climbs down the steps with a stretch. She scans the camp, and upon spotting us rushes our way, her arms curled around her hunched body to ward off the chill. The smiles she offers to the nearby legionaries are returned, though stiff.

“They’re warming up to her.”

“They see her value. That does not mean they trust her.” Zander watches her approach, and I can’t help but feel his words are spoken for himself as much as the others.

“I did not appreciate how cozy the wagon was until now,” Gesine announces with a shudder when she reaches us. “I suppose it helps that we’re surrounded by skins.” She dips her head in greeting. “Your Highness.”

“Eden’s bringing food.”

“That is kind of her. And perhaps some of that wine I heard about. Ianca was always a big fan.”

“I am sure the Legion will part with a mug or two.” Zander chuckles. “Romeria was just telling me how she has been regaling you with tales of her exploits. Anything interesting?”

“Yes. I think so.” Gesine glances around. “The more I consider it, the more I believe Romeria’s talents lie in deception.”

Zander barks out an unexpectedly loud laugh that turns a few heads. “I could have told you that without needing a day for conversation.”

I throw a playful elbow toward his stomach. Before I pull away, he gives my arm a gentle squeeze.

Gesine’s eyes glint with the exchange, but her expression smooths over in the next instant. “What I mean is, she may have been so successful in her previous life with”—she stalls—“procuring valuables by using her affinities to twist reality to her means, manipulating what people see.”

“You can do that? I mean, I can do that? That’s possible?”

“It would explain how you could unclasp a necklace from around a woman’s neck in a room full of people and not garner notice. Or how you slipped that diamond ring off that girl’s finger.”

Korsakov’s daughter. The heist that started it all.

Gesine kept probing for details—how many people were around, what were they doing while I was thieving—now I know why.

“What do you know of an ability such as this?” Zander asks, all hints of levity gone.

“The scribes document every caster who passes through the great halls of Mordain. Their affinities, their skills, their strengths. I have only ever heard of one such other, and it was long ago. She held affinities to both Aoife and Vin’nyla and it was said she could play tricks on minds, using air and water to bend light and control what people saw, but that was speculation. I don’t really know how she did it, just as I can’t wrap my head around the stone casters who build those passages within walls.”

“I didn’t know I was doing anything.”

“But you felt it.”

“Well, yeah, but … I assumed it was normal.” That overwhelming rush of adrenaline, of nerves. An intoxicating mixture of thrill and fear.

“For someone with your power and your level of desperation, it would have been as simple as willing it to happen in the way you needed. If I am right, you will not have an issue replicating it. That is the thing with affinities. Once you use them a certain way, your muscle memory can recall them more readily. That man in the cave? If you should need to draw on your affinity to Vin’nyla to defend yourself like that again, you will find it easier next time.”

Gesine said I used my affinity to air when I launched him into the stone. “Fantastic.” I grimace and clench my fist, the feel of his snapping bones—like crushing a handful of potato chips—still fresh.

Zander’s expression is pensive. “Romeria has this innate skill, and yet she was unable to lift my dagger from me the night she arrived.”