No magic came free. It required intent, a medium, a price.
Was mine to fade away?
19
Chapter 19
Swindling bards was never a good idea. Clever and sharp, their business revolved around sweet-talking people through words, gestures, and song. Lies came as easily to them as they did to me.
Ainwir had always said:Nevertrust a bard found outside a tavern. He would have been ashamed of how my heart soared to see one standing in the middle of nowhere.
Hearing a horse clopping through the woods, the bard in the patchwork sash and sharp feathered hat reached for the paring knife at his belt as though it would save him from bandits. Percy stared at us blankly before pointing at Seth accusingly.
“You’re. . .alive?” He gasped.
Seth nearly tossed me from the saddle in his haste to dismount. “Perse!” He shouted.
Athena stepped back nervously as Percy sprinted for Seth and tackled him in a hug that sent them both into the dirt. A thud sounded beneath my feet, and I twisted to watch the pair, my heart soaring.
“Getoffme,” Seth’s voice was muffled. Writhing out of the bard’s vice grip, Seth pushed Percy off and stood, brushing himself off.
A smile washed over my face. Slipping from the saddle, I waited for the men to untangle themselves. Noticing me, Percy’sgrin widened, and he grabbed me in a tight embrace. Giggling, I returned the hug.
Seth grabbed Percy’s arm and pulled him off me. “Are you alone?”
“No!” Percy looked elated, but his joy quickly faltered. “No. Come with me.” Tone growing grim, he beckoned for us to follow. “I was keeping lookout. I was hoping you’d turn up, but I can’t say I expected it.”
“What happened?” I asked, leading Athena over the rocky soil.
“We ran for our lives.” Percy walked backwards to face us. “Seraphim grabbed the horses, threw me onto one, and slapped its hindquarters. The rest is a blur.”
“You had the Bloodstone,” Seth said. “Did it work?’
Percy made a strange sound under his breath. “Ask Seraphim.”
He hadn’t mentioned the last of our party. Fear stabbed through my heart. “Did. . . did you find Eleos?”
“Yes,” Percy said. “I’d say he’s alright, but. . .”
“But what?” I blurted out.
“You’ll see,” Percy said quietly, turning around. He stepped off a ledge onto a wide, dirt path. The main road.
A bleak sight greeted us. Canvas and tents were scattered around the hillside, livestock roamed free, and wagons in various states of repair littered the road. A few men in armor patrolled the rough camp’s perimeter, guarding the haggard and frightened people within.
I glanced across the area, quickly noticing a great many injured sprawled across bedrolls. Some were missing arms, others looked like they’d been trampled underfoot, crushed.
“A lot of people were injured in the chaos,” Percy explained. “Others brushed with the Empty, and. . . not all of them made it out.”
A woman in a charcoal coat emerged from one of the threadbare tents, red braid waving behind her as she barked orders at a pair of guards. Handing Athena’s reins to Seth, I jogged toward her.
“Seraphim!”
Her faded blue eyes met mine and lit up. “Aethra!” She gasped, taking me by the shoulder, grinning. “We thought we’d lost you two.”
“We thought we lost you.” I countered, scanning the camp. “How did you escape?”
“The Empty always stops eventually.” Seraphim turned, and I noticed a streak of silver running the length of her braid. “Those closest to the town’s perimeter made it out, but not all in one piece.”
