THE SUN SAT LOW OVER THE TREES BY THE TIME I exited the Sanctum. Instead of the sweeping gales that had greeted me when I first arrived, only gentle breezes teased at the grass on the escarpment now that Leozoar was gone. I worked my way back down through the cave with Veric’s letter snugly tied in my belt sash. The booklet held my only shard of hope, and the last of the answers lay just beyond my fingertips. I only needed to figure out where Atheon was. And if I could get this far from my hometown and keep myself in one piece, conquer a corrupted demigod, and talk my way out of trouble with the Tamers—I could do it.
Hal must have heard me coming, for he stood outside the cave as I emerged, just out of reach of the waterfall’s mist. The Tamers were nowhere in sight. The sun slowly impaled itself on the sharp tops of the trees, giving Hal’s dark-brown skin a warm glow. Gratitude swelled in my breast. After what had happened with Ina, I suppose I had half expected him to leave me, too. He owed me nothing.
“You’re back!” He rushed over and hugged me, but I winced as his arms put pressure on tender bruises. The battle with Leozoar had finally caught up with me.
“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping back awkwardly when I failed to return his embrace. “You were gone so long. I was worried. . . .”
“It’s all right. I’m just a bit sore,” I said, trying to explain my reaction. Though he had startled me with the hug, and I truly did ache all over, the embrace provided comfort that had ended too soon. Thoughts of Ina rose unbidden, reopening the gaping wound of her absence and deepening the stab of her betrayal.
Perhaps it was remnants of Leozoar’s wind magic calling to something like itself, or perhaps it was just my need for comfort, but I stepped back into Hal’s arms and closed my eyes. I needed a friend. Hal’s arms might help keep me from flying apart until I figured out how to go on alone. Everything depended on it now that my only hope was finding the Fatestone.
He held me gently, resting his chin on the top of my head. As he took a deep breath, I echoed it without thinking. Even though we barely knew each other, something about him felt warm and safe. He smelled clean and subtly herbal, like the soap Mukira had given us to bathe with.
Hal squeezed my shoulders gently when I finally pulled away. “What happened up there? I Heard the wind—that thing—speaking to you.”
“What did you Hear?” I asked.
“Not much. My head still hurts and I can’t Hear as far as usual. I just checked a few times to make sure you were still alive,” he said.
I told him about entering the Sanctum, the magic pool, how I’d found the source of the cliff’s curse. My explanation faltered only when I tried to explain how I’d destroyed Leozoar. It had been an act of mercy, not an act of violence, but it still bothered me how easy it had been.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Hal said. “If he was going to kill you, you did what you needed to.” I had no idea how he could be so agreeable about everything. The guilt of not telling him the whole truth grew heavier, but I wasn’t ready to share Veric’s letter.
“I think he was once something more like you—a demigod born of the wind. Something happened to him after he was deserted by the gods. The dark parts of his magic took over.”
Hal shuddered. “I hope nothing like that ever happens to me.”
“I don’t think it will,” I said. Nothing about Hal was anything like Leozoar. He was too easygoing and lighthearted to end up like that. He seemed to love his family and the other children of the wind. He had people he cared for, and others who cared for him.
“Mostly I’m glad you’re all right,” he said. “You’re much too interesting to lose when I’ve only just met you.”
“Interesting is sometimes more of a curse than a blessing.” I smiled a sad smile. Under any other circumstances I would have been flattered by his words. “Where did the others go?”
“After the dragon flew past, Mukira sent most of the hunters to track it to make sure it doesn’t circle back. She just left the one hunter to watch us—and to shoot me if I tried to run off, I presume. He’ll escort us back to their camp.” He pointed into the trees. It took me a minute to locate the boy perched in the branches. He had an arrow nocked to his bow, and I had no doubt he could draw it and let the thing fly before we got more than a few paces away. A crow sat beside him, tilting its head at me with a keen intelligence in its eye.
“She won’t come back,” I said softly. That much I knew was true. If she did, surely it would only be to kill me for what I’d done. My skin crawled at the thought. I’d never expected to find myself doubting whether she cared about me, much less knowing her hate burned brighter than the fire from her jaws. And part of me was angry with her, too.
I tucked a loose lock of hair behind my ears, and Hal caught my hand as I dropped it back to my side.
“Your wrist,” he said, his voice thick with concern as he examined the scrape.
“It’s nothing,” I said, but I liked the way he held my hand. It comforted me that someone could still be tender with me when I felt so undeserving.
The crow flapped off toward the camp, and the Tamer boy dropped down from the tree.
“Are you well enough to walk?” Hal asked.
“Of course,” I said, not thinking to question it until we entered the trees and lost sight of the waterfall. With every step I took, the bruises and trauma of the day caught up with me until I wanted to curl up on the forest floor. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I’d eaten nothing since breakfast.
“If you feel like sharing what happened with your dragon friend, I’m here to listen,” Hal said, his voice pitched softly to keep the boy from hearing. “She didn’t look happy when she flew off. You don’t seem very cheerful either.”
I thought for a moment, taking a deep breath of pine-laden air. The familiar ache rose in me, tightening my throat so that I couldn’t speak. The more time that passed, the angrier I became with Ina, but even as my rage grew, I couldn’t shake my other memories.
The warmth of her lips.
Her eyes, lit with desire.
The way she’d made me hers, claiming every inch of me with kisses pressed in places no one else had ever seen.
Hal and I walked on in silence, but he didn’t push. He gave me room to breathe and let me be until I was ready, and for some reason, that made me feel like I could tell him.
“Ina left,” I said, my voice flat. “She’s angry with me about something I did back home—something I should have told her sooner. I had tried to help her, but it all went wrong. Then it turned out there were things she hadn’t told me either.”
Hal nodded, not seeming to mind how vague and jumbled my explanation was. “Do you think you can work things out if you talk again?”
“I don’t know.” But I did. She would never come back and she would never forgive me. Ina always kept her word. I should have wondered sooner why she never promised me anything.
“So what now? Where will you go next?” Innocent curiosity shone in his eyes.
I wondered if he would look at me that way if he knew everything that had happened to lead me here—if he knew about the trail of blood Ina and I had left behind.
“A place someone told me about,” I said. “But I don’t even know exactly where it is, so I suppose I need to figure that out first.”
“Oh?” He seemed intrigued. “I’ve traveled a lot of Zumorda in the past year. Maybe I’ve heard of it.”
It couldn’t hurt to ask. “Have you ever heard of Atheon?”
Hal furrowed his brow. “I haven’t heard of a town by that name, no. But maybe it’s in the northwest? I haven’t spent much time there. It’s mostly peculiar little villages. And sheep. Lots of sheep.”
My heart sank. “What about someone named Veric?”
“I don’t personally know anyone by that name.” Hal tapped his chin thoughtfully. “But there’s an old drinking song about a man named Veric. Why?”
“Do you know any songs that aren’t about drinking?” I eyed him balefully, ignoring his question.
“Not really!” He grinned.
“How does the song go?”
“I only remember the chorus. ‘Drink for a penny or drink for a crown, hunt with a smile and kill with a frown. Few things are certain and that’s why we sing, but the blood of Sir Veric can make you a king.’”
“I hope that song is long out of fashion,” I said, disturbed. If people still sang it, did that mean they knew what could be done with my blood—the things Veric had alluded to in his letter, perhaps even more dangerous than the spells Miriel had taught me? And if mortals knew of those things, why didn’t I?
“I’ve only heard it once, on a trip to Kartasha. The tavern served a raspberry lambic meant to look like blood. Kind of silly.”
“And awfully macabre,” I added. “What about you—where are you headed from here?”
“Back to my sister as always,” he said.
An uneasy feeling twisted in my stomach. She’d been looking for the Fatestone, too, and surely she had more information about it than I did—maybe even some idea where Atheon was. But finding out what Nismae knew about the stone and its location meant walking right into the middle of a feud. The last thing I needed was the leader of a group of assassins chasing after me if I obtained the Fatestone and they found out. What hope did I stand of defending myself against trained killers?
Ahead of us, the Tamer boy whistled a greeting, and then a series of birdcalls echoed through the forest.
“We have a problem.” The boy dashed ahead without looking to see if we would follow.
Hal and I exchanged a worried glance. We could have used the opportunity to escape, but I had no doubt the Tamers would be able to catch up with us no matter how far and fast we ran as long as we were within the borders of their woods. We broke through into a small clearing a few minutes later.
Mukira knelt over a Tamer who lay very still. I didn’t need to get closer or reach for my Sight to know that she was near death. My gaze skittered through the surrounding trees, searching for signs to confirm my suspicions about what had happened. Broken branches littered the ground around a nearby pine. Bile rose in my throat.
I knew it had been Ina.
Elder Mukira used her staff to get to her feet, then turned to face us with a deep frown. “The fall broke her back. There is nothing we can do.”
“Was anyone else injured?” I asked, my voice small.
Mukira shook her head.
I approached the fallen Tamer. An owl hooted mournfully in the branches overhead, though the sun had not yet set.
The woman lying on the ground was Kaja, the Tamer who had captured me.
She’d already gone into shock, her skin clammy and cold with sweat. Her life was slipping away, back into the forest she’d spent her life protecting, but it wasn’t her time. She hadn’t deserved this. The remnants of Leozoar’s magic surged up with curiosity, giving me an idea. Some good could yet come of that murderous old wraith.
I crouched beside Kaja and pressed both my hands into the earth, digging my fingers into the thick bed of pine needles and other shed foliage on the forest floor. Life hummed under my fingertips, glowing gently in my Sight. My senses blurred. It was almost as if the forest had a sound, like a chorus of bells so deep they were barely audible.
“May I?” I asked Mukira. I had performed smaller healings before and had an unusual amount of power at my disposal now. It couldn’t make things worse to try.
The elder looked at me with a strange expression. “If you do no harm,” she acquiesced.
I pulled my journal out of my satchel and flipped to one of the simpler blood spells Miriel had taught me. I nicked my finger and drew the symbol of the spirit god on Kaja’s forehead for clarity of Sight. My magic melted into her, letting me see the broken pieces of her body.
Beyond Kaja’s fading heartbeat and the acute pain of her broken back, I sensed the roots beneath the earth, the vegetation all around me, and the animals scavenging for food and nesting materials—all the things that came with the first breaths of spring. I let the forest consume me, and then matched it to the last of Leozoar’s magic, weaving them together like a tapestry inside my mind.
I almost lost myself to the forest as the two powers merged. The bright white of Leozoar’s power pulled at the dark river of my own. I felt like it would be all right to become part of the forest, to sink into it and embrace the slow pace of its life. But this wasn’t my place, and these were not my people, so I held back my own magic and let go of the rest, funneling it through my blood into Kaja and the land around her. The forest took her pain and I realigned her broken back with my magic, reminding her body what it had been before her fall.
All around us, seeds lying dormant within the earth burst into sprouts that fought their way free of the ground despite its being too early for them. Ivy crawled over the trees until they were swathed in green. Vines twirled around Mukira’s staff, bursting into fragrant bloom. The trees all around us put out bursts of pale green needles, gilding the forest with the colors of spring.
Kaja opened her eyes, blinking at me in confusion, and then a wave of exhaustion hit me. I swayed on my knees, too dizzy to stand up. No more of Leozoar’s magic remained.
Hal rushed to my side, helping me over to a fallen log where I could sit. Platforms of new fungus jutted out of the wood, and tiny white flowers poked up from the moss growing in its crevices. The Tamers crowded around Kaja, murmuring with wonder at her recovery and the new life in the clearing.
I turned to Hal to thank him for helping me, but stopped when I saw the look in his eyes. It wasn’t reverent, exactly, but admiring. Respectful. Maybe even a little hungry, in a way that made something warm blossom in the pit of my stomach.
“Well done,” he said.
His compliment warmed me. I liked the way his eyes were locked on me, their deep brown soft and warm. I liked the pressure of his one hand on my arm, and the way his other rested on my lower back. But if I liked him, if I let myself care about him . . . all that meant was that it would hurt when he left. I couldn’t get too attached.
Mukira whistled a sharp call, and moments later a tall woman with long braids and a rich dark umber complexion dashed into the clearing, calling Kaja’s name. When she saw Kaja sitting up on her own, she fell to her knees beside her, and they clung to each other like they would never let go. Kaja gently kissed the tears from the other woman’s face, whispering, “I’m all right. I’m here.”
I looked away, feeling as though I’d witnessed a moment that should have been private. I didn’t even notice Mukira approaching until Hal nudged me. She came to a stop in front of us, looking at me with new respect in her eyes.
“Thank you for saving Kaja,” the elder said. “I have never seen magic like that before.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. Because my confession had chased Ina off in a storm of rage and hurt, in a way, Kaja’s injury had been my fault. Preventing her death was the least I could do to atone for that.
“How did you save her?” Mukira asked.
“With magic left over from destroying the curse on your cliff,” I said. “There was a wind demigod living in the Sanctum—he was the one tossing people off the cliff to keep them away. He’s now at peace,” I said. She didn’t need to know about Veric or how I’d destroyed Leozoar. I opened my satchel and pulled out a vial of water. It swirled in the glass, the pale blue of a summer sky.
Mukira’s eyebrows rose. “That’s water from the sacred pool!” She took the vial from me, gently touching it to the tip of her staff. She closed her eyes.
I let my Sight come to me and watched what Mukira was doing. Questing threads of magic reached through the network of life in the forest. The full extent of their reach wasn’t visible to me—her connection to the forest must have broadened her ability to See magic far beyond what I could, even if she didn’t recognize the nuances of it the way I did. If she had, surely she would have known what Leozoar was, not just that the cliff was cursed.
“The Sanctum is ours once more,” she finally pronounced. Her eyes opened, now lit with joy.
“We can never thank you enough for this gift, Asra. Make haste back to the camp when you feel ready. We’ll resupply you for wherever you are headed next. I must tell the others.” She hurried away, gathering other Tamers, gesturing broadly as she showed them the water I’d brought back from their sacred pool.
“Look what you did,” Hal said. “You got us out of trouble, defeated a deranged demigod, and saved a life, all in a day’s work.”
“I couldn’t have found Ina without you,” I said, uncomfortable with all the credit he was giving me.
“It was the least I could do. You saved my life.” He smiled. “Besides, I like you.”
The ache of loneliness I carried with me intensified. I didn’t deserve his kindness, even if I longed for it. If I wanted to earn it, I needed to find the Fatestone and set things right—and that started with talking to his sister.
“Then perhaps I can get you to take me to your sister,” I said. I bit my lip nervously, knowing I’d asked him for a lot.
An odd expression passed over his face, too quickly for me to pin it down. “Why?”
“Now that I know my father isn’t the wind god, I’m wondering if her research might contain any clues to which of the gods I might be descended from,” I said. Also, she was the only person besides the king who knew anything about Atheon or the Fatestone, but I didn’t know if I could trust Hal with my true motives.
“She’s in Orzai,” he said. “I had been planning to go there anyway, but it’s quite a bit north of here . . . and it’s not the safest place.”
I mustered what little energy I had left and looked Hal right in the eyes. “Take me with you.”
I had nothing left to lose.