Everything, he wants to see everything else I’ve stolen.
The small reprieve from my consuming shame ends. At least everything else I’ve brought isn’t as damning.
I hope.
?????????????
Two obsidian boxes.
One book.
My little hellish hoard lies upon the center of the coffee table in Ryc’s office, taunting me. As I sink onto the couch beside him, I take a deep breath, watching the faint, pulsing glow of the soul crystal.
It’s not as bright as I remember.
“This is everything?” Ryc asks, and I give a reluctant nod, unable to bring myself to meet his gaze.
He reaches for the smaller of the obsidian boxes.
“A glamouring ring,” I say as he pulls the tiny thing from the box. “Spelled to hide its ability.”
“It looks like a simple silver ring to me,” Ryc says, turning the ring over for closer inspection.
My eyes narrow.
“You don’t see the blue-silver runes?” I ask, watching the surface of the ring flash with a quick blue sheen. “Feel the thrum of magic within it?”
He shakes his head, giving me a small smile. “No.”
“The enchantment is as plain as a ward,” I say, bewildered. “Tell me you can see wards.”
“Anyone can see a ward,” he laughs. “Those are constructed to beseen. Enchantments,” he shakes his head, “are not.”
I stare at the ring pinched in his fingers, watching the constant ebb and flow of runes across the silver. It’s so tiny, he’d never be able to wear it. I was lucky it fit my smallest finger.
“But you seeandfeel magic?” he asks, his own bewilderment becoming apparent.
“I’ve always been able to,” I say. “Old magic, blood magic, innate—it doesn’t matter the nature, I feel it. If it bears magic, like this ring, I see the spelled runes.”
Ylara was amazed by it as well.
I never gave it much thought.
His eyes narrow briefly. “That is not a common ability,” he says, his voice low.
“Neither is peering into the veil,” I counter with a small shrug.
He chuckles, nodding. “True.” Laying the ring in the palm of his hand he asks, “Have you worn it?”
“Yes, a few times,” I answer. “The first being the day you sent Cyran after me through the South Ward.”
Ryc laughs as he returns the ring to its box. “He wondered—Iwondered how you escaped him. Cyran isn’t easy to lose.”
“If he had been, I wouldn’t have used it,” I counter, sounding much less amused.
“I didn’t account for you having things like this,” he raises the closed box for emphasis before setting it upon the table, “in your arsenal. You tarnished his pride that day. Mine too.”
I scoff, an incredulous sound. “What did you think was going to happen? You send the Captain of the Royal Guard after me and I simply go with him?”
