Turner nodded, seeming somewhat satisfied. “And how do you feel about working with two daemons? Think you can stomach it?” he asked jokingly, but clearly feeling the man out for any disloyalty or trickery.
Ty smiled to himself. Everyone tended to underestimate Turner, given his smiley attitude, but the man was a vicious fighter and, while he was absolutely fucking terrible at lying, he could still be cunning. Decades of working closely with his father had necessitated it.
Cris shifted on his horse a bit. “Well, I won’t lie, it’s definitely off-putting. I know Ena says many of the things we’ve been told aren’t true, but I’ve been told a lot of bad things, so…”
“Yeah, well, don’t believe everything you hear, especially not from witches,” Turner said with a wink.
Cris huffed a laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t now… Still trying to wrap my mind around that.” He was silent for a minute, clearly falling back into his thoughts before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?” he asked Turner.
“Sure.”
“How does your Power work? It’s…surprising how similar it is to my Gift.”
“Right, Ena said your Gift iscalor?”
Cris nodded.
“Well, I don’t know how yours works, but mine comes from my body,” Turner explained. “I can create the heat, and concentrate it in my hand, and just like that, set shit on fire,” he said, grinning at this description.
“Yes, you certainly love setting shit on fire,” Ena replied pointedly.
“Hey, I thought I was forgiven for that whole…house incident,” Turner replied defensively.
“Youburned down the Auster matriarch’s house?” Cris asked incredulously.
“Only because he told me to,” Turner said, gesturing his head back at Ty.
“Don’t drag me into this,” Ty replied. He’d made his amends with Ena already. He didn’t need to explain himself to this asshole.
Ena laughed, and he felt his grumpy mood disintegrate ever so slightly. At least she was happy.
“Anyway…” she said, suppressing her mirth and bringing the conversation back to focus. “How does your Gift work, Cris? We haven’t talked much since your Summoning.”
“It’s similar in a way,” Cris said. “But I draw on my Knowing to sense the particles in the air, or in an object, and force them to move together, to create friction and heat…sometimes light.”
“Can’t you do that, too, Ena? I’ve seen you light fires,” Turner asked.
“In a way, but I need a spellword. Cris doesn’t. And I can just create a spark, not warm the air to a specific temperature, or warm an object.”
Turner nodded, and Ty found himself engaged in the conversation, despite himself. There was still so much he didn’t know about witches and their magic.
“What about you, Ena? How does your Gift work?” Cris asked her.
Ty saw her hesitate, and it hurt his heart. She didn’t need to be ashamed or embarrassed about her Gift. It was fucking amazing what she could do, but he knew she still wrestled with the idea that it was associated with daemons, and extremely unheard of for witches.
“It works a lot like daemonic Powers, actually, by allowing me to sense another’s mind, only I do it using my Knowing, and then I can control them using my words, like everything I say is a spellword.”
“Wow,” Cris said. “That’s…intense.” He was quiet for a minute, but in his silence was disapproval, and something like fear, and it made Ty want to throttle him all over again. “Did you use it on my brothers when you left the note?” Cris asked.
“Yes,” Ena admitted. “It was the safest thing for us. I swear I didn’t harm them.” There was a hint of guilt in her voice, but Ty noted that she didn’t apologize for doing it—didn’t even try—and he was proud of her for that.
“I know,” Cris said understandingly. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”
He saw Ena relax a bit, and the four of them went back to riding in silence for a while. They stopped several times for brief breaks throughout the day until the sun started to set—early, unfortunately, due to the time of year—and they stopped to set up camp.
Ty found a nice spot near a small stream where the horses could drink, and a flat clearing to set up their tents. Luckily, Cris had brought his own tent, so Ty wouldn’t be subjected to his presence all night. He thanked Iblis for that.
Leaving the witches to start a fire, and Turner to tend to the horses, Ty left to set a trap. This time of year, the best game available were coyotes or raccoons, given that the temperatures were too cold for much else, and so he used hisvenatorto catch their scents—following their tracks to their dens.
