The Inquisitor signaled, and the entire procession drew to a grinding halt. Linn watched as the man disembarked, along with several of his patrols. They drew their swords as they rounded to the back of the wagon. One Whitecloak stepped forward and slammed a fist against the door, shouting something at the prisoner inside.
For a moment, the keening stopped. And then another fit of strangled yells exploded, the wagon visibly rocking on its wheels as whatever was inside pounded against the walls.
The Inquisitor made a motion, and a patrol stepped forward with the keys. As soon as the doors were unlocked, flames exploded from within. The shouts from the men nearest were cut off as they were engulfed in the searing fire.
There were cries of alarm, and the Inquisitor moved to dash forward—but stopped. Snow and ice had wrapped around his feet to his thighs, freezing him in place. Linn watched in half fascination, half horror, as snow rose from the ground, condensing into ice as it snaked up patrols’ boots, freezing them in place.
“Affinites?” she said sharply.
Kaïs hesitated. Slowly, he shook his head.“Affinite,”he corrected. “There is only one inside the wagon.”
Before Linn could ask him what he meant, a man stumbled out from the wagon doors. His eyes were aglow in light blue, as though covered by a sheen of ice. Yet his arms and hands were charred black. One of his handcuffs was a peculiar green color, so tight that it seemed to have melded with his skin. With every staggering step he took, ice trailed behind him as flames crackled from his fingers.
“It’s not possible.” Kaïs’s voice was hollow. “He has two Affinities.”
Linn’s mouth went dry. The man had fallen to the ground, twitching. Flurries of snow began to swirl around him, intermingling with bright flares of fire. “Get it out of me,” he screamed. Blue light had bled out from his eyes and was slowly spreading down his cheeks and his neck. The flames swirled up his arms, turning them red, and then black.
Wrong,something screamed inside Linn.Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong—
Behind the Affinite, the Inquisitor had managed to break out of the ice. Unsheathing his sword, he turned to the fallen prisoner.
“Kaïs.” Linn’s teeth chattered. “We need to help him.”
By her side, Kaïs held absolutely still. His gaze locked on the scene before them. The Inquisitor, approaching the Affinite. The man, spasming on the ground, a whirlwind of ice and fire growing fiercer and larger around him.
Linn’s hands found her daggers. She crouched.
Without warning, Kaïs pounced—not toward the Affinite, but towardher.His hands locked around her wrists as he pushed her back behind the trees that hid them from view. She sensed the iron grip of his Affinity clamping down on hers, and the world grew still as her connection to the winds broke.
She twisted, preparing for a move to throw him off, but he’d anticipated it; with a grunt, he pushed her into the snow. “We cannot help him.” His voice was a low growl. “We cannot sacrifice our mission for one person.”
Linn turned back to the scene before them. Through the low-hanging branches partially obscuring her view, she saw the glint of the Inquisitor’s sword. Heard the neat slice of metal through flesh, a sound like cutting fruit. And then felt the heavy silence.
Low murmurs of discussion, the sound of a body being dragged through snow, the clang of wagon doors shutting, and, eventually, the squeak of wheels as it continued its journey.
Kaïs released her and drew back, breathing hard. “I apologize.”
Her breaths were shallow; her head felt light. “Do not touch me again. Ever.” Her voice was barely a croak.
He looked away, his outline silvered by the dust of a distant sun. When he turned back to her, his eyes were flat, cold. “You were about to give away our position and jeopardize our journey. There would have been no use in trying to save him. That man’s Affinities were consuming him.”
Linn closed her eyes briefly, steadying her breath. “What was wrong with him?”
“I don’t know.”
Sparks of anger ignited in her from a wrath old and bitter. “I do not believe you. Those were Imperial Patrols. You were one of them.”
“I did what I had to do to survive.” His gaze seared like fire. “You want to find out what that was? You want to bring down this regime? We find Anastacya, and we do it together.”
He was right, Linn thought, tension unfurling from her in a sigh. She’d started off wanting to find her way back to Ana because that was the only thing she still knew. Now, the mission took on new urgency.
The image of the Affinite haunted her, the way the blue veins of the ice and the black of the fire—tells from both his Affinities, she assumed—had swirled on his skin.Get it out ofme.
Why had a squad of Imperial Patrols been transporting an Affinite in a blackstone wagon, if Morganya’s prerogative was to protect them? And not just any Affinite—one withtwotypes of Affinities.
It was unheard of. Unnatural. Back in Kemeira, they’d had wielders and givers—people with connections to the world around them, and people without. They had existed in harmony, each doing their own part to contribute to a greater whole.
In all her trainings with her Wind Masters, in studying the principles of alchemy that built the foundation of their world, she had never heard of a wielder withtwoconnections. What were the chances that Morganya’s Imperial Patrols had found such a person?
