Pushing open the door to one of the bedrooms located on the ground floor, he discovered the answer. Veron was sitting in bed, his leg wrapped tightly with stiff bandages, the lower portion splinted with wood. A yellowing bruise marred the side of his face, disappearing into his hair. But he was alive and whole apart from the damaged leg.
“Veron.” Relief coursed through him as he embraced his cousin, pulling back when the man winced in pain. “What happened to the workshop? Where’s Brenna?”
Haunted eyes met his. “They took her, Rodric. I didn’t think… didn’t think it would happen to us. Thought we had time. It’s my fault.”
Who? When? Why?The questions lodged in his throat as anguish swelled inside him. “Explain,” he choked out.
“A few months ago, right after you left, I started letting Brenna work with me at the kiln. She’s been begging for ages and hasn’t been herself since Marion died. I thought… I hoped it might help ease the grief of her mother’s death to have something new to focus on.”
Rodric nodded, understanding the desire to ease the girl’s pain and bring the impish grin to her face. She’d suffered much in the past year, losing the vivacious spark of energy she’d inherited from her mother.
“So, what happened?”
“She was incredible with the metal, Rodric. Gifted. Seemed like she could get it to do whatever she wanted. Her abilities surprised us both.” A hint of a smile mirrored the pride in his voice. “I should have kept her away from the shop when I first suspected—started seeing the signs. But she loved it so much. I didn’t want to take this away from her.”
“Signs of what, Veron?”
“Magic.” Veron’s broken answer was mingled with awe as tears leaked from his eyes. “Brenna has magic.”
Rodric swallowed hard as the air in his lungs evaporated. Burned right out of his chest.No. Anything but that.
Magic.
The word was synonymous with pain, terror, and death in his world. Those who wielded it were hunted viciously in Eldridge. It didn’t matter that magic was innate, not learned. It was a crime. One that saw children taken forcefully from their homes. Families torn apart and destroyed.
“You didn’t think to send for me? I would have come home immediately. You knew she wouldn’t be safe here.” It came out accusatory.
Veron looked away, and Rodric’s heart twisted with the wrenching realization.
“You kept it from me intentionally. Why would you do that?”
“I was afraid for my daughter,” Veron defended quietly. “Of what this meant for her. If you’d reacted badly—”
“She is my soul-daughter! I would give my life for hers. No matter how you thought I’d react, you know that.”
Rage and pain warred within him, both overtaken by the rising viciousness of the hunter at his core. He was angry at Veron for keeping secrets. But mostly, at his own failure as Brenna’s soul-guardian.
“You can’t protect her from her magic, Rodric.”
“I can damn well try,” he snapped.
“I was going to tell you, but I thought we had time. Through the winter at least, before it became an issue. Before someone noticed.”
His stomach rolled as he wondered who had sold Brenna’s life to the independent mercenaries who made magic-relatedproblemsdisappear in their realm. It had to have been a neighbor or someone who visited the blacksmith's shop. Someone they knew, possibly even considered a friend, had sold Brenna’s life.
“You were wrong.”
“I know.” Veron’s grief threatened to pull both of them under its weight. “With my leg injured, I couldn’t keep them from taking her… couldn’t go after them… and now she’s lost to me. Her and Marion both.”
Rodric stood, struggling to breathe as he pushed the smoky remnants of his childhood away. He had enough pain in the present without opening old wounds. He focused instead on picturing Brenna.
Long dark hair, golden-brown eyes and a mischievous smile. Always hiding around corners to eavesdrop. Brave enough to take daring risks, but smart enough to ensure he was around to catch her if she fell—from a tree, her horse, or the workshop roof.
He was supposed to be Brenna’s soul-guardian. Her shield against life’s harshness. But he’d failed her. His bright and beautiful soul-daughter, his sunshine, had been dragged away like a criminal for something she couldn’t control. Hadn’t asked for.
“I’ll go,” Rodric said once he could speak without his voice shaking. “You made me her soul-guardian when she was born. That’s an honor and responsibility I don’t take lightly. I swear to you, I’ll use every skill and resource I have to bring her home.”
Inwardly, he tried to stifle the rising feeling of doom in his chest.
