Ena smiled despite herself. “Why’d he let you come then, if you’re such a liability? A lying liability, I mean.” The ale had definitely gotten to her a bit as she giggled at her own joke.
Turner side-eyed her companionably. “He’s my cousin, and he’s always looked out for me. There’s no way I would’ve let him do this alone.”
Turner spoke with such admiration and…love in his voice that Ena didn’t know what to say. She was silent as memories from long ago resurfaced. She remembered that night by the beach…remembered Ty telling her all about his cousins, and especially his younger cousin who followed him around like he was a god among men. It clicked for Ena that Turner was probably that cousin. Clearly, Ty hadn’t lied about that, and she didn’t quite know what to do with that information. She’d been so caught up, rightfully, in her anger at Ty and his companions, wanting to see them only as the evil creatures they were, that it caught her off guard how human Turner seemed in this moment, and how…normal his familial relationship with Ty seemed.
Ena was shaken from her thoughts as she suddenly heard raised voices coming from the men playing cards. They had all been playing companionably with one another, but now one ofthe older men, who was lean with gray hair, seemed highly upset at the other. His weather-worn face was screwed up in anger as he pointed a bony finger and yelled at the one the bartender said was named Tomas, accusing him of cheating.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ena saw Turner surreptitiously make eye contact with Steig.
Something was happening.
Ena glanced back over at Ty, who was leaning back serenely in his chair, holding his cards. At first glance, it appeared he was bored and uninterested in the argument, but looking closer at him, she saw that he was, in fact, concentrating heavily on the man pointing his finger. His gaze was unblinking and slightly sinister. What was he doing?
The argument between the two men escalated, as the one yelling at Tomas stood up, walked around the table, and grabbed Tomas by the shirt collar. Ty’s gaze flicked to Tomas as Tomas abruptly stood up and shoved the other man back. There was more yelling and shoving until Tomas reared back and punched the other man in the face, sending blood flying across the table.
Oh, shit. This must be the distraction.
The fight between the two men escalated as Tomas was thrown down onto the table, his face bloodied by the repeated punches raining down on him. The bartender approached, attempting to get between them. The third man who’d been playing cards, who, up until now, had been watching the argument like a deer caught in a hunter’s sightline, finally stood up and tried to help the bartender pull the men apart, only to get caught in the fray himself when Tomas kicked him in the gut.
All the commotion was now drawing the attention of the other couple in the guesthouse, who were quickly gathering their belongings and fleeing the area, lest they get in the way of the brawl.
As if this was what he’d been waiting for, Ty glanced briefly at Steig, who quickly went around the bar and through the doorway to the kitchen. Ty retreated from the altercation surreptitiously and walked over to Ena and Turner. “Time to go,” he said, with menacing calm.
Ena was still trying to figure out exactly what had just happened when Ty grabbed her arm and led her outside. Walking quickly to the stables, Ty yelled loudly for the stable boy, demanding he fetch all three of their horses as quickly as possible. Feigning outrage, he ranted indignantly that they wouldn’t be doing business in a place such as this, that treated visitors with such disgrace. The stable boy clearly didn’t yet know what he was referring to, but he muttered his hurried apologies and went to the stalls to retrieve their horses.
Turner, Ty, and Ena quickly led the horses back through the village and into the woods. She tried hard to keep her eyes straight ahead and not look behind her at the guesthouse, although she could still hear the sound of crashing furniture and raised voices coming from inside. She was tempted to glance around for a sign of Steig, too, but she kept her eyes straight ahead.
She was still frantically trying to understand what had just happened when they arrived at the agreed-upon meeting spot in the woods. Once she looked around to make certain they were well out of ear and eye shot of the village, she whirled on Ty.
“You did that. Didn’t you?” she asked, not bothering to hide the accusation in her voice.
“Did what?” he said, not looking at her and instead tightening the girth on his saddle.
“Started that fight somehow.”
“Yes,” he said flatly, still not looking at Ena.
“How did you do it? Some kind of…mind control?” Ena asked, hoping they didn’t notice the way her voice wavered on thoselast two words. This was the first time Ena had met a daemon with a Power similar to hervisanis. She’d heard that daemons often had Powers of the mind, and Heran had told her that her Gift was likely shared by daemons, but to see it in practice was something else.
“Do you really want to know?” Ty asked, finally looking at her.
“Yes,” Ena replied sincerely.
“Fine. I guess there’s no harm in telling you now you’ve seen it. Yes, I started the fight. I have the power to…incite rage, anger. I feed on what little is there and escalate it until—well, you saw. We call itfuror.”
Ena stared at him. It was not the same as hervisanis, or what little she knew of it, but it was still the most similar Power to hers that she’d heard of. Somehow knowing that made her feel slightly less afraid of her Gift, and infinitely more…curious.
“How does it work?”
Ty stared at her, looking thoroughly surprised at the question. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Ena paused, trying to figure out how to put her curiosity into words. “How does it feel when you use it?”
Ty narrowed his eyes at her, assessing her intentions, but it wasn’t a trick. She was curious to know how a mind Power like her own worked, what it felt like, how she could…control it so it wouldn’t overwhelm her like it had been about to do during her Summoning.
Clearly realizing it wasn’t a trick, he answered her. “It feels like…a tiny spark inside someone, that I can sense. And if I focus on them, I can form a thread between us. A channel. I use that channel to feed them my own rage and anger, stoking their spark into a flame, and then a wildfire, until they can’t think straight. All they can do is lash out like a wild animal.”
“So…” Ena hesitated, seeking to understand. “It was your own anger that started that fight. Your own rage that you fed to those men.”
