Another secret to keep. Another thing eating me up inside.
It pulsed, a biting reminder of its power—as if the visions weren’t enough. Attempting to shield myself from my dad’s curious gray eyes darting over every minute, I nuzzled into the seat, the Pearl of Truth shining bright in my mind.
I glanced at the sky. Pearl.
Closed my eyes. Pearl.
Took a breath. Pearl.
When Ryder took his blood oath, was it my face that haunted his thoughts?
“Damnit.” I shot up, the seatbelt tightening over my chest.
An awkward jumble of sounds came from the driver’s seat. “Everything alright?”
No. I took a mission bound by blood and magic, and now I was losing it. “Yeah,” I lied.
We turned down a main road. The dizzying push and pull lessened, the swell of impulse fading, the pain dulling into more like a bruise versus a constant prick.
Strange.
My dad veered left, and the feeling came back suddenly, achingly. I sucked in air too quickly and gripped the seat.
We went down another road—right—and with every turn of the engine, it faded. I eyed the street signs, caught a glimpse of the hazy blue horizon ahead. We were headed in the direction of Natural Bridges.
“Wow.” My fingers drifted to my lips. Didn’t mean to say that out loud.
My dad cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.
“It’s a…” I gave him a tight smile. “Beautiful day?”
“Yeah.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel, suntanned knuckles turning bone white, as he unknowingly took me closer and closer to my target. “It is.”
I glanced at where my shirt covered the orange and black of my tattoo.
The Wizard had given me less than twenty-four hours to complete the contract. A favor, I realized. Any longer and the enchantment in the ink might turn my brain to mush.
Adrenaline bloomed in my chest, equal parts maddening and addicting.
Indeed, it was a beautiful day to steal a magical pearl.
Chapter 8
“You made it.” The words left my lips in a cloud, dispersing into the chill coastal air.
In his all-black ensemble, he could have just been another shadow.
“I’d rather be sleepin’,” Nemuik growled from within the hood of his cloak, “but I had no choice.”
I pulled up my sleeve, the faint lines of my fresh ink glistening in the starlight. “Me, either. Should we get friendship tattoos to match?”
“I been waitin’ ’ere since sundown, I hope ye know. Ye better ’ave come armed wit more than just jokes!”
My brows dipped together. “Armed? As in weapons?”
“Why, why me?” he huffed. Tarnished silver glittered from his pocket, quickly followed by a fractal of crystal. A dagger.
He withdrew it, and I leapt back, scrambling to put some distance between us, nearly tripping over a root. The dwarf flicked the blade forward in quick, stabbing motions, no doubt aiming for my guts.
