My magick.
He’s come for a try at harvesting my Dyrsjel magick. It’s only a matter of time before one of them is successful with it; they'll control the Stones. And the wolves… I bite my lip to stifle a cry.
Ruse.
I don’t even know if she’s alive and that scares me more than anything. Glancing at the scar on my arm, I shudder remembering the painful incision from the enchanted blade I’ll have to endure again.
“So, is it that you’ve come to learn about Sorin’s whereabouts or you’ve come to take a turn at harvesting my magick?” Steadying myself, I turn to face him again. “Which is it?”
Roman peers down at me, his smile is shy but there. Kneeling down, he joins me on the ground.
My brows raise. Odd for a man of his power to sit so comfortably upon the floor. I’m stunned as I watch him stretch his legs out, resting his head against the wall across from my cell, as if it were put here just for him.
“It’s quiet down here,” he says through a sigh.
“Is this a game to you? A way to pass the time? Shouldn’t the king have something better to do?”
Roman laughs, the sound bouncing off the empty cavernous room. His smile is wide, cheeks dimpling. “No games, Dyrsjel,” he says. “I haven’t come to take your magick. Yet.” Our eyes lock and it sends a wave of uncertainty through me. “Tell me of this brother, where he may be or what you think he’s planning, and perhaps I’ll pay you a favor.”
“No.”
Roman smiles again, quick and closed lipped. “Fine. If you won’t tell me where you think he is, at least tell mesomethingabout him that could be useful.”
My eyes narrow, arms crossed across my chest. “Feeling sentimental?”
“Something like that.” Roman’s face grows serious, the playful smile tucked away, and the stern look of a ruler snapped in place. “I’ll up the ante,” he says, stretching his arms again. “A hot meal, daily, in exchange for any sliver of information you’re willing to give.”
I lick my lips then bite the inside of my cheek so as to not do it again. “No.”
His green eyes widen, something wicked dancing in them before he nods and stands. “Suit yourself.”
My stomach growls, the pain cutting through my entire abdomen. As Roman moves farther away, panic sets in.
I haven’t eaten in days. If I could get a meal, perhaps I could regain some of my strength. Would have better chances fighting the guards again when they come for me. And more than that, I don’t have to tell Roman anything truthful about Sorin. I could easily spin a web of lies and throw him off course.
Roman takes three steps up the stairs, before I’m pulling myself up by the iron bars.
“Wait!”
Roman stops, turning to face me again.
“A hot meal.” My stomach rumbles again. Sharpness scrapes at my insides and for a moment my vision goes white. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about Sorin,” I pant out, desperate to lie down, “if you can ensure I get a hot mealdaily.”
He has no reason to believe I’ll tell him anything truthful so either he is naïve and careless, or he sees right through me, and I have yet to discover his intentions.
“Deal.”
Six
Sorin
Autumnand all her glory has set through the forest as I ride my way back to Wickersham the following morning. After a fitful sleep and a meager breakfast, my body and mind are fighting for who is more exhausted.
I blink away the fatigue to bask in the colors of the leaves and the setting sun. Rich oranges dance along bright yellows and greens. A blanket made of fallen leaves litters the ground, squelching under each press of Amis’ hooves. Closing my eyes, I listen to the call of the birds. I envision the maples that line Loxley’s streets. Their vibrant rust-colored leaves lighting up our small village. The buzz of some nearby sprites lulls me further into my daydream. The exhaustion pulses through me, and as Amis sways up and over the next hill, my grip on the reins loosens. How easy it would be to sleep. How needed it would be…
A howl cuts through the birdsong.
Jolting forward, my eyes spring open. “Heel.” Amis does so instantly, the soft padding of her hooves now silent. Craning my ear, I wait.
