Asher cleared her throat, as if trying to force away amusement—or something else. “This is where we come to wash when Cap can’t stand the smell of us anymore. I can give you some privacy, but what is your comfort level with me helping you out with that bandage?”
Erinna watched as Asher rubbed her shoulders, noting the stiffness in her movements. “Did you want to join? I don’t mind at all.”
“If you insist.” Asher was already shrugging off her layers of clothing. With a quick wave of her hands the steam from the naturally warmed spring rose, shrouding them in privacy.
With a shuddering breath, Erinna pulled her aching feet from her boots and discarded the tunic and trousers. She tossed the clothing with more force than necessary, a remnant ofthe day’s frustration. Erinna dipped into the luxuriously warm waters. Her muscles grateful for the heat and reprieve.
“So, blessings?” Erinna burned with too much curiosity to stay silent. Asher held up her arm, and Erinna’s gaze drifted to a string of tattoos that lined her right bicep. The ink had been chosen to fade into the soft brown of her skin. Subtle, as if she’d been born with the markings. Erinna didn’t know much about the world outside her home island, but she was certain the markings were not Everdawn.
“These are my blessings. It’s a tradition in Crunaya to call upon the priests of the pantheon to bestow blessings on one’s thirteenth year.” She waved her arm in emphasis. “These are mine.”
Beautiful, Erinna thought, yet it was clear there was more to such a practice. She knew enough about history to recall the tales of witches who went around offering blessings in exchange for coins. Or the priestesses in places of worship who provided words of healing and guidance. This tradition seemed to stem from that.
“Pantheon?” Erinna inquired and couldn’t help the rising sense of hope and comfort. The monotheistic worship of the Everdawn was dominant in Tarth and in many of the major continental kingdoms, but the Pantheon was older and still practiced throughout the world in small pockets, particularly in the kingdoms of the Great South. It was also the system Erinna was born into.
Asher nodded. “I think we all are, no matter what those Everdawn disciples believe. Just don’t tell Lila.”
“Noted.”
“They’re not all alike, you know. Lila…” Asher paused as if searching for the best words. “She doesn’t believe what they do on Tarth.”
Erinna couldn’t help but tense. “How do you know what it’s like on Tarth?” From what Erinna could tell, there were only three Tarthans on the island, and none of them were Kane’s crew.
“Your king is not discreet in his distaste for certain…individuals. In fairness, there are a lot of places that aren’t fond of mages in general.” Erinna had heard about continental intolerance of mages. It was a popular source of propaganda on Tarth, used to lure people from all over the continents. The Kingdom that welcomed mages, that promoted the study of arcanum. One that tolerated power. To an extent.
Erinna scoffed at the thought but was starting to wish she at least bothered to read about the nations surrounding her home kingdom. “But there are places that are better? That are more accepting?”
Asher looked to the sky in thought, swirling the mist absentmindedly. “It’s complicated.”
Erinna’s stomach bottomed out. Some long-lost dream had finally shattered. The hope that maybe somewhere there would be acceptance. Pure acceptance. Not one that came with a price.
Asher continued. “Suffice to say that some places welcome the old ways of witchcraft over the new ways of arcanum.” She stared at her blessings for a moment. “But intolerance is intolerance, no matter how you dress it up.”
Erinna started to work through the knots in her hair, careful not to upset the dressing on her head. “So, about this Grace thing?”
Asher gave her a look that saidyou don’t get out much. She was right. Erinna held little worldly knowledge outside of materials and trade agreements.
“Some people think Grace and Talent are different. Some, like me, know they are the same thing. At the end of the day these are terms used to characterize how someone canmanipulate arcanum. No one does it the same way, no matter what people want to believe.”
Asher reached her right hand toward Erinna, and the water danced up the back of her neck, soaking through her hair while keeping the bandage dry. She took the opportunity to wash away the dirt and sweat from her head. It was a much better distraction than learning how convoluted the study of arcanum was.
There would be many academy mages who found Asher’s idea preposterous. But Damien once told her that not even the higher-ups agreed on all the fundamentals. The familiar sense of guilt crept into her bones as her memory drifted back home. To her friends and family who were dealing with the unbelievable while she paraded with a bunch of pirates and would soon commit high heresy.
“Are you all here to loot something from the library?” Erinna asked.
The corners of Asher’s mouth twitched into a smile.
“Not all of us. Most of us are here out of loyalty to Kane. But breaking into an old mage’s study is certainly enticing.”
Erinna bit her bottom lip. These pirates were professional information dodgers.
“Do you need anything?”
Lighthearted amusement dipped. Asher did need something, but didn’t want to admit it.
“Sorry for prying,” Erinna whispered, heart twisted slightly in guilt. Not all secrets had to be shared, especially not with a near stranger.
“To be honest, a lot of us are being hunted, and some of the magic in the tower will definitely be helpful.” She glanced at Erinna’s forearm as if she could see through the long linen sleeves
