“And if we run into issues worse than the Wraturo?” His friend took a deep breath and stared down the hallway where Brela had disappeared. “Let’s just hope whatever is happening at the wall doesn’t break the fortress she’s had to build to keepthatnightmare in control.”
* * *
Thankthe gods they ran into no such issues by the time they reached the base of the Magtonas Mountains, though he doubted anyone would try to cross them when Brela was essentially a walking armory of sharp objects. Every inch of her glinted with silver blades, Night Carver hidden at her hip, and her horse was decorated with even more deadly options. If that wasn’t enough for any potential attackers to soil themselves in fear, they’d take one sniff of the fire wielder riding next to her and probably combust instantly.
Serill never thought the long days it took to cross uninhabited lands could be so entertaining. Between Aelstow and the Deliers River, the endless rolling hills became the source of countless bets and training exercises for Brela and her friends. She’d challenge Elias to hit the smallest targets possible with his bow and arrow, both animal and stationary object, from no less than eighty paces away. The earth-blessed man only missed once, and it was because Farrah was fed up with his showing off that she sent her own arrow of ice to hit the target faster than Elias’s shot.
The water wielder had her chance to show off once they reached the Deliers. They spent one night camped along the river, and Brela bet Elias that Farrah could catch eight fish in a span of three minutes. He scoffed and said twelve.
Serill countered with twenty.
They balked, but he saw the smirk on Farrah’s lips before the woman turned to the river, dug into her power, and lifted a spherical ball of water out of the rushing center. With a wink in Serill’s direction, Farrah spent the remaining two minutes and fifty seconds of her time using her magic to throw all twenty of those fish she caught at her friends.
Serill had yet to lose a bet he made, but he guessed if he had said thirty, Farrah would have found a way to pull another ten fish from a mile down the river just to keep his streak going.
To his surprise, neither Cason nor Brela spent any of the nights together except if they were on watch. They still flirted constantly, even shared a few kisses—to the delight of Serill, Farrah, and Elias who teased them mercilessly—but Cason didn’t seem embarrassed by any of it. Nor did he show any hint of jealousy when Brela opted to sleep curled up with either Farrah, Elias, or all three together.
Camped between the Magtonas and Mencona River, tonight was no different. Elias and Brela had fallen asleep an hour ago, not bothering to toss a blanket over themselves in the warmer than average night. That didn’t stop the earth-blessed man from tucking the assassin into a lazy embrace against his chest while they slept.
Though it was Serill and Cason charged with the first watch, Farrah was still awake and brushing down Moonheart. She’d been twitchy ever since the previous night, when she’d woken up and screamed loud enough for someone in Ciethy to hear her.
Elias had told Cason and Serill not to worry about it and that he and Brela would take over watch for the rest of the night. They didn’t dare argue, especially when Farrah continued to whispersweat, not bloodfor the next ten minutes, rocking back and forth as Brela soothed her.
The next morning, with Farrah’s head curled in Brela’s lap and Elias drooling on her shoulder, Brela whispered that it wouldn’t be the last time one of them woke up to a nightmare but that she’d make sure once they got to Valisea that it wouldn’t result in any screams that gave away their position. And that was that.
Serill tried not to stare at Farrah as she worked silently, and he could see Cason doing the same. After last night, she had ditched the loose shirts that clung to sweat, instead donning a black, thin-strapped top. Even her brown hair was pulled into a tight braid rather than hanging down like it had been the days before. It might have had something to do with what she’d been whispering the night before, which clearly bothered her more than showing off the water ink on her shoulders.
The weak graduation marks were nowhere close to showing the water strength she possessed. Not even a hint of ice affinity could be found in the black ink, and now they saw why.
Thick scars marred the waves of water tattoos, lighter than the rest of her tan skin and standing out from her muscles. Some were deep and long, others looked like scrapes, but all were equally heartbreaking.
Farrah’s voice cracked in the silence. “He said I was tainted.”
Cason straightened and flashed Serill a glance before replying. “I’m sorry?”
She set down the brush and turned, blue eyes glazed. “The man who gave me the scars and haunts my nightmares.” Farrah shuffled back to the fire and sat across from them, voice distant. “He said I was tainted and that my ink should reflect my flaws. He found ways to keep my healing magic from fixing the gashes he made. Salt. Metal shards. Hung me from the walls with those special chains that keep magic from working.”
Serill swallowed the bile that crept up his throat. They’d put those manacles on her in Severina.
“My parents gave their fifteen-year-old daughter’s hand in marriage and didn’t care that he was a sadistic brute,” she whispered. “For two years I let him hurt me, and when I finally spoke up and no one believed me, I ran away. I hid for two years, and when the man walked into the tavern I worked at on the same night I met Brela, he did not walk out.”
Cason leaned forward and growled, not in anger toward her but in disgust toward that man. “Did she kill him?”
“Sometimes I wish she had,” Farrah muttered, studying her palms. “He deserved a slower and more painful death than what I gave him.” She swallowed. “Brela found me and cleaned me up, got rid of… his body, and then practically carried me back to her home and promised she’d never let anyone touch me again without my permission. When I finally stopped shaking, she told me about the shard in her collarbone and what she was. I responded by begging an equally scarred seventeen-year-old girl to teach me how to protect myself.”
The prince studied Cason out of the corner of his eye, his captain now staring at Brela with a look Serill had never seen before.
Four hells, his friend didn’t just like her. Farrah flashed a half grin at Serill, as if she could see the same thing.
“How did you pick up Elias?” Serill asked.
“Brela slept with him and then robbed him blind.”
Cason choked on his breath, Farrah’s grin widening.
“Except she rushed the con,” Farrah continued. “We were desperate, though. A few of the kids at the orphanage were sick and we didn’t have the money for medicine. There was only so much I could do, so when Brela walked in with the supplies, I forgot my anger. It came back quickly when Elias strolled in not five minutes later looking for her.”
“He caught her?” Serill asked, eyes wide.
