She snorted a dark laugh. “We’re certainly not about blood-filled cauldrons and human sacrifice, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Well, whatareyou about, then? You know, aside from rescuing unicorns, threatening princes with sharp objects, and poisoning evil men. Is poison your only magic?”
“Poison is the least of my magic,” she said with an indignant scoff. For a moment, he worried he’d offended her, but she spoke again. “I’m clairsentient,” she explained, “which means I experience clear feeling. Every witch has an affinity for one of the senses. There are five others in addition to clairsentience. Clairvoyance is clear seeing. Clairaudience relates to hearing. Clairalience is smelling. Clairgustance is taste. And claircognizance revolves around knowing.”
Teryn tried to keep the awe off his face. He’d only heard of such abilities in myths and faerytales. “So, what does it mean to experience magical feeling the way you do?”
“It…it’s kind of hard to explain. Generally, a clairsentient witch uses her own emotions, internal physical responses, and touch to connect with her magic. A certain physical sensation could mean danger while a specific emotion could mean luck. Every witch is different and it takes some time to understand how to utilize one’s magic. I, however, am a little different. I tap into my magic with feeling as well, but I am also able to feel the feelings of others. One of our elders told me I might be an empath.”
“An empath?” Teryn echoed.
“A witch with very strong clairsentience. An empath’s senses aren’t limited to her own, and she can use them to perceive outside thoughts, feelings, and energies. It’s something I’ve been able to do since I was a child. It was nothing but a curse when I was younger. It led to some…very bad experiences. It wasn’t until I met other people like me that I learned to control it and shield myself from others’ emotions.”
“When you say people like you, do you mean…other witches? Are you part of a coven?”
She chuckled. “Something like that.”
Teryn was once again struck with awe. Could it really be that magic was real and there were others like Cora? If so, was it a good thing? Or a bad thing? A startling realization dawned on him. She could read emotions. No wonder he’d always felt so unsettled by her gaze. She was probably absorbing his feelings all the while. Did that mean…did she know…
He shook the thought from his mind. His muscles tensed. Suddenly every single thought felt dangerous. “So, your powers,” he said slowly. “Can you read my mind?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, it’s not like that. I still have to process what I receive through my own feelings. While I can tune in at will, the level of information I glean varies. Some things jump out at me at random, overwhelming my own senses. It can happen even when I’m shielding. Other times it’s just…just an emotion I have to put a name to. It’s like reading a book in another language that you’ve only just begun to learn.”
The visual worked surprisingly well for him. He’d been tutored in several languages, but he was only fluent in three. The rest he understood in fits and starts. His eyes fell to her hands. She’d begun brushing them through Valorre’s mane, revealing the dark ink decorating her palms and forearms. The designs formed esoteric symbols like moon phases and geometric configurations unlike anything he’d seen before. In fact, he’d seen very few women with tattoos at all. He had to admit they were stunning. “Do your tattoos have anything to do with magic?”
“They are a tradition amongst the—” She paused and shook her head as if she were about to say something she didn’t want to. Slower, she said, “Amongst my coven. They are symbolic of a witch’s experience with magic. Some think they also help us channel our magic’s flow.”
“Somethink?” He quirked a brow. “Do you not believe? Are you a skeptic when it comes to your own magic?”
“No, I believe,” she said but there was certainly doubt in her tone. “It’s just…sometimes I wish magic were more obvious. The most common feats of magic can be explained away by coincidence, imagination, or science. I’ve only ever seen one kind that couldn’t.” Her eyes took on a distant quality that reminded him of how she’d looked after her nightmare.
“Why are you on your own now?” he asked, mostly to guide her away from what was clearly a distressing subject. “Where is your coven?”
“I lived with them until recently. I left them after I met Valorre. I knew I needed to save his brethren, and my people…well, they couldn’t help me.”
“Why not?”
She stiffened, and Teryn could tell he was approaching yet another prickly topic. “I don’t know how witches are treated where you’re from, but here they aren’t exactly considered upstanding members of society. They can’t go gallivanting around the woods on crusades against fae creature injustice. Remember how you told me you’ve never met a witch before? That’s because society doesn’t treat us kindly. We stay hidden because it isn’t safe for us to be found.”
Teryn felt a weight in his chest, one that made him second-guess if he was doing the right thing. What if he was wrong about her? She couldn’t have been very old when she killed Queen Linette and Princess Aveline. What if the crimes had been accidental? An unfortunate side effect of her growing clairsentience?
Both murders were deemed the work of poison, he reminded himself.It doesn’t get more intentional than that.
He’d been tempted a few times now to simply ask her. But even if he did, what did he expect her to say? If she was guilty, she’d lie, which meant he couldn’t trust her even if she denied the allegations. And if shewasguilty, she’d be onto him. She’d know thatheknew and would flee. Or try to kill him outright.
Besides, it was too late. The evidence was in the letter that was now tucked into his vest pocket.It is done, the note said. That was his father’s response to the letter he’d sent Berol with. There was a chance this plan wouldn’t work, of course. That the King of Khero wouldn’t take Arlous’ correspondence seriously. That the timing was terrible and nothing would come of Teryn’s efforts.
The thought almost gave him relief.
Cora’s voice drew him from his internal musings. “I can’t imagine you think any better after what you saw me do to those hunters,” she said, eying him warily.
He met her gaze, once again painfully aware of his own emotions and the fact that she might be reading them right now. With a sigh, he steeled his composure. “They were bad men and you were alone. You did what you had to do.”
She seemed to relax a little at that, but her expression was cold. “I still can’t fathom why you’re helping me.”
“I told you why.”
She stopped brushing Valorre’s mane. There was no jest in her tone when she said, “I don’t entirely trust you.”
