“Yes, you did.”
Her words merely confirmed what Peter felt down to his soul. That he had some sort of power. Lifting his hands to bring the winds. Seeing himself by the laboring mother’s side, feeding her strength to endure. Yet, both those times he’d not consciously known what to do.
“Can I ask you something?” Addie patted his leg.
“Yes.” Was she about to ask something too personal? She’d taken him in, never asking too many questions. She never questioned any of her foundlings overly much.
“Do you have a lover?”
A lover? “Umm… No. Why do you ask?”
Addie remained quiet for several long moments. “Have you ever heard of a mage bond?”
“No. I’ve hardly heard of mages.”
“Mages have power. With the right training, they can learn to do many useful things. Then some mages instinctually wield their powers. Strongest of all are those who meet someone with complimentary magic. They form a mage bond, feeding from each other’s powers, each becoming stronger. The last mage I met of your talents had been in a mage bond for many seasons.”
Mage bond? “What are you talking about?”
Addie sipped from the herbal concoction, the cup clicking against the table when she set it down. “I’m older than you know.”
“You’re not that old.” If Peter had learned anything in life, it was not to comment on a lady’s age.
“But I am. I was born and raised here in E’Skaara. Like many other magical folks, my parents were drawn to the power radiating from the hill. We settled here before the Lady”—she spat the epithet— “built her temple and rounded up magic practitioners. Since then, her Chosen have imprisoned any with talent to speak of, stripping them of their magic. They couldn’t live without their power and died. There are few of us left.”
The hair on the back of Peter’s neck stood. “You’re a mage?” He’d often suspected her of some magical talent, but she’d never told, so he kept quiet—both about her possible magery and his own.
Yet, she’d known. And tonight’s demonstration showed what both were capable of.
Addie shook her head, hair escaping from the bun at her nape to swing over her face, barely visible in the near-darkness. “Not necessarily a mage, but I have some innate abilities. Since I’m not very powerful, my amulet hides me well. My parents, a bonded pair, weren’t so lucky. I only survived because our nonmagical housekeeper swore I was her child.
“Well, I met Zahn.” She flashed a brief smile. “Our magics complemented each other’s, and we each grew stronger. I was sought after as a healer, while he could predict storms with great accuracy, a boon to the fishermen.
“He was turned in to the Chosen by a rival who didn’t know about me. They never knew we’d bonded.” Addie wrung her hands together. “I knew the instant he died, felt the power leave.” She ended with a choked sob. “I vowed to help any mages who needed assistance, which is why I helped you.”
“You just picked me out of a crowd?”
“No. After I cut your hair and we parted ways, a priest of the Father visited me, knew I helped those like you, and said you were important.”
“You only took me in for the priest.” The words sounded hurt, even to Peter’s ears.
Addie gave a fond smile and cupped Peter’s cheek. “I would have helped even if you were nonmagical. You’re not much older than the child I lost when Zahn died would now be.”
A child. She’d lost a child yet dedicated herself to keeping other women from knowing her pain. They stayed silent for a time.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Peter asked.
“Because the priest directed me to stay silent, unless there was reason not to.”
“You’re not being silent now.”
One side of Addie’s mouth curved upward in a smirk, the gesture barely visible in the scant light coming in through the window from a gas lamp. “No, I’m not. That mother and child are alive because of you.”
“But I’m not a healer.”
“I beg to differ, but in this instance, I borrowed from you to supplement my own strength.”
Peter had thought so. “Why did you ask if I had a lover?”
