“My Gift isvisanis. I could use it to…temporarily incapacitate the witches that live in the house. Make it easier for you to search for the amulet without attracting attention.”
“Your Gift isvisanis?” Steig asked in shock. “Did you know about this?” he asked Ty.
“Yes, but I only found out recently. It’s a long story,” he said dismissively. “But I figured there was no way she’d use it to help us.” He pinned her with his gaze. “Why would you help us?” Ty asked her, clearly suspicious of this offer. He knew about her restrictions around using her Gift, but this was different. Sheknew this was the safest and best way to get out of this whole mess—a mess, she’d acknowledge, that was partially her fault at this point. She had done the spell that had led them here. And she’d do what she needed to do to get out of it while causing the least amount of harm possible.
“I figure this way, if I use myvisanis, I can ensure that no witches get hurt. I can put them to sleep or something. Clearly, you all are going to go search for the amulet no matter what I do, and I’d rather it not descend into a bloody battle or a forest fire,” Ena explained, looking pointedly at Turner. “So I’ll help, but I want something in return.”
There it was. Ty leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed defensively. “Okay…” he responded. “And what’s that?”
“If I help you break into the house using myvisanis, I want your word that you’ll let me go whether you find the amulet there or not.”
The three of them looked at each other, clearly calculating whether or not that was a good idea.
“And whywouldn’tit be there?” Steig asked skeptically.
“Any number of reasons. You only gave me a vague description of it, so the spell might not have worked properly. Or they could have moved it since then. Take your pick. I did my part, but I can only control so much, so if I do this, that’s it. You let me go afterwards.”
Ena needed this guarantee. She knew Ty planned to let her go when they found it, she didn’t doubt that, but if everything went according to her plan, theywouldn’tfind it, and she didn’t want them dragging her all over creation indefinitely searching for it. She needed this to be over.
“Fine,” Ty replied. “I think you’ve proven to be about as useful as you’re going to be, anyway.”
Ena’s chest tightened at his words. She would be lying if she said that didn’t hurt, especially with the ghost of his kisses onher neck. Clearly, he was trying to tell her something with his cold tone and harsh attitude. He was trying to push her away again—and he would succeed. Yes, she’d certainly outlived herusefulnesswith these daemons.
“Okay, that’s settled then,” Turner said cautiously, looking between Ena and Ty as they stared daggers at each other.
“We’ll leave as soon as the rain lets up,” Ty declared.
***
Unfortunately, the rain continued all day and well into the evening. Ena hung around the dining room most of the day, listening to Ty, Turner, and Steig strategize now that they knew about Ena’svisanis. When they took breaks to gather supplies or tend to their horses, she spent the time observing the other patrons at the guesthouse.
There was a family with several children who spent a significant amount of time playing a rowdy game with marbles that Ena had never experienced before. She couldn’t help but smile at their communal joy, but it made her miss Greya fiercely.
Then there was the duo of glassblowers who had traveled to deliver some commissioned items to a few people in the village. She overheard some gossip that indicated that Dirk the butcher had been way overcharged for the glass pitcher he’d ordered, but that was no business of hers.
The everyday human moments kept her company and soothed her while it rained and she tried fervently not to think about everything that had happened with Ty. The kind woman who’d served them their food kept her well-provided with ale after ale, and by the time dinner rolled around, she was pleasantly inebriated.
It had been a long time since she’d been drunk, probably since the Litha gathering this past summer, but Ena was thoroughly enjoying the feeling.
It wasn’t until she’d finished eating her dinner of chicken, roasted potatoes, and mashed carrots, that she realized there was a commotion in the corner of the room.
The dining room was packed with patrons, both guests and village residents, but Turner and Ty had cleared out quickly after dinner. Ena had been given express instructions to “stay here where Steig can see you,” and honestly, with the pleasant feeling of the ale buzzing through her brain, she had no desire to be anywhere else at the moment.
Looking over at the corner in question, Ena saw Steig sitting in a place of honor with patrons gathering around him.
Oh, Gaia. Was he about to sing? Ena hadn’t truly believed it when Ty had said he was posing as a bard. Hesodid not strike her as the musical type. He was gruff and harsh, not touchy-feely at all. But as the room settled down, and he opened his mouth, she realized how wrong she’d been.
Steig sang a slow, long ballad, his deep, smooth voice reverberating throughout the room. And it wasn’t just any song—it was a love song. His voice seemed to drench the room, enrapturing even the noisy children. His pitch-perfect notes cascaded fluidly as he sang of a hunter who fell in love with a seamstress. They loved each other madly and couldn’t keep their hands off each other, so every time he left for a hunting trip, they’d make love frantically in farewell, and every time, he’d return to find her pregnant. The couple had fifteen children, who grew up to found a new village, and their prosperity benefited everyone.
It was an interesting story, Ena granted him. Highly unique. And she didn’t miss the effect it had on the patrons of the guesthouse. Slowly, one by one, couples peeled off together intodark corners of the room, kissing and canoodling. A few even left before he was done to run up to their rooms. Ena liked the song, sure, but she didn’t seem quite as impacted by it as everyone else.
Eventually, way slower than she would have if she hadn’t been drunk, she realized what was happening—it wascupido. She’d heard of it, of course—the Power that some daemons had to enhance lust, greed, and ambition. She’d always wondered what Steig’s Power was, and now it clicked. His Power came from his singing. Hislustfulsinging.
Gaia, Ena had never been more grateful that daemonic Powers did not work on witches. She’d dealt with more than enough consequences of her ill-conceived lust for one day.
When Steig finally finished singing, only two other patrons remained in the room to applaud him, but he didn’t seem concerned. He bowed slightly to the two who’d clapped and left his chair of honor to drink a mug of ale at another table.
Maybe it was her drunken state, or maybe she just needed him to know that she knew what he was up to, but she found herself approaching his table.
