Laughter rippled through the tavern.
Tears blurred Mistel’s vision, but she still had control of her body. She yanked free from Cole and fled to the storage room.
Cole followed her inside and shut the door. “Mistel? Talk to me. Are you all right?”
The enormity of what had happened crashed over her. “The blind man,” she choked out. “He’s a bloodvoicer. He controlled me. Just like Atul.”
Then she burst into tears.
Cole set his lute on the table and reached for her. She stepped into his embrace, pressed her forehead to his chest. His arms slid around her back and held her tightly.
“I wondered if it was him,” he said, resting his cheek against her hair. “I saw him staring at you and everyone looking back and forth between you. They all know he’s a bloodvoicer. Nash knows.”
She cried harder.
“You have to shield your mind from now on,” Cole said, one hand making slow circles on her back. “Do you remember how?”
Her stomach twisted. What if the bloodvoicer pried into her thoughts, overheard their plans, and ruined everything?
Cole gripped her shoulders and pulled back, his hazel eyes intense, his freckled face so entirely endearing that tears blurred her vision. “Mistel?”
“I need to shield my mind,” she whispered, blinking hard.
“You do,” he said. “Do you remember how?”
She nodded, forcing herself to block out the terror and focus. A tiny voice whispered that she wasn’t strong enough, and that terrified her more than anything.
“Do it now.” Cole pulled her close again and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Mistel concentrated, almost certain she’d succeeded. She sagged against Cole and let him hold her. She’d always dreamed of someday being a famous minstrel, never needing to depend on anyone. That the old man had controlled her with his magic was one thing, but that Cole had to save her? That was another. What if he hadn’t been there? She could have been trapped forever, at the mercy of another madman.
Kurtz entered the room. “She all right?”
“She will be,” Cole said, smoothing his hand down her back. “Can you get our cloaks? It’s time to go.”
“What about Verdot Amal?” Mistel asked. “I thought you wanted to talk to him.”
“Not anymore,” Cole said. “If he didn’t like us, he’s a fool. We’ll find another way into Ice Island.”
“The only other way is getting arrested,” Kurtz said. “I don’t recommend it. Wait here.”
While they waited, Mistel cried a bit more. Cole hummed in her ear, rocking her gently. Kurtz returned with their cloaks, and the rest was a blur until Mistel found herself on Bart’s back. The horse carried her through the freezing night, away from the Black Boar and the evil within.
Chapter 23
Cole
Miss Wepp,
I could not let another day pass without expressing my admiration for the performance you and the Wandering Songweavers gave the other night. It was truly stellar. Your voice was so clear and beautiful that it silenced even the noisiest in the room. A rare feat, I assure you, in such a place as the Black Boar.
Might I dare hope that you would consider singing again? I am certain that the patrons of the Boar would be eager for your return, though none more so than I. Your presence lingers in my thoughts, Miss Wepp, as does the memory of your voice.
Would you consider another engagement tomorrow night? It would bring great cheer to many, myself most of all.
With high esteem,
Nash Erlichman
