Bad?I glanced again at the bright petals, unable to find even a dark spot or rotted leaf. I was about to say as much when a woman breezed through the front doors without bothering to knock. Her glossy hair fluttered behind her like a curtain, and thecolor. It wasstunning, like the depths of an ocean with varying hints of navy and ultramarine that caught in the light. Her jeweled ruby-red eyes quickly scanned the space until her gaze snagged on Orin. A devilish smirk claimed her lips. Swirling, flowing ink wrapped both of her biceps like churning currents, and her fingers dawdled along the darkened cobalt lines as she crossed her arms. A young woman and a boy accompanied her, and they sauntered into the space with the same authority and haughty grins.
“Ossanna,” Orin said, straightening to his full height. “You’re early.”
“I didn’t think that would be a problem.” Her cunning gaze slid straight to me. “Plus, I’d heard a rumor you managed to find another threadmender. I wanted to see for myself.”
“Word travels fast.” He blew out his breath.
“It absolutely does.” Ossanna slid a hand to her waist before tilting her head toward the young woman on her left. “That aside, Issa has been looking forward to today for quite some time. I could hardly contain her.”
Issa couldn’t have been more than a few years my junior. Her reddish-pink eyes—like blood paled by milk—and blue-black hair stood out against her fair skin, but not as hauntingly as the stark tattoo of angry currents wrapping around her throat. She dragged her clawlike nails against her painted lips, smiling as she studied Orin. The belt lazily draped about her hips quivered.
No. Not a belt. A tail.
It unraveled and twitched behind her as if she were a feline preparing to snare a mouse. Her cunning stare drifted to me, and she slowly assessed me from head to toe before letting out a quiet chuckle. I narrowed my eyes, ignoring the swell of fear climbing up my throat.
“Will your threadmender be joining us for refreshments?” Issa asked.
“Edira. My name is Edira.” The words were out of my mouthbefore I could stop them, and all eyes rounded on me. An indignant heat simmered in my veins. “I may be employed by the Ferngloves, but I am nothis.”
Issa’s smile was sharper than a blade. “Oh, I know.”
“Edira, these are the Waterstones. Like us, they’re Evers.”
Obviously. I’d never seen a human with a tail. I shot Orin a glance. His expression was unreadable, save the tiniest of lip curls that felt wholly directed at me. He shifted subtly, inching closer to me without drawing more of the Waterstones’ attention. It didn’t seem like my words had offended Orin, but even if they had... The fear that had me carefully examining my etiquette during last night’s dinner had evaporated the moment he’d branded me with his crest. I’d technically been claimed by the Ferngloves, but that didn’t mean I liked being objectified as if I were a possession. At least Orin seemed to agree.
The young Waterstone boy pushed his way between the two women to frown at me. He shared the same hair and ruby-red eyes as Ossanna, and there were swirling tattoos around each one of his fingers. Twin horns, small and rounded as if they’d only just begun to grow, jutted from his forehead beneath his hairline.
“She seems like fun.” His saccharine smile accentuated his harsh, impish characteristics, and I was reminded of the feral way Amalyss and Tasia had inspected me in the carriage. These Evers were impulsive. Brash. Did they all succumb to such wild, unpredictable whims simply to satisfy their own curiosity? For a moment of pleasure? Or maybe it was a side effect of their magic, of embracing more animalistic features and strengths.
“She seems boring,” Issa remarked.
“Issa, Flix, that’s enough,” Ossanna said, though there was no forcefulness to her voice. Her focus returned to Orin. “Shall we?”
Orin plastered on a smile. “Of course. Amalyss? Tasia?” He pointed two fingers over his shoulder without turning away from the Waterstones. I jerked my eyes toward the winding staircasewhere Amalyss and Tasia stood completely immobile, their rapt gazes trained on us. I hadn’t heard them approach, and yet Orin somehow knew they’d been there without even surveying the room.
“Yes?” Amalyss answered.
“Rorik is expecting Edira. See that she finds him.”
“Of course,” Tasia said. They descended the stairs with languid ease, pausing only to wait for me to join them by the front doors.
I blinked. “Rorik? Why?”
“I’ve asked him to help train you.” Orin’s features softened when he looked at me, and then he tipped his chin in a slight bow. “I apologize. I had planned on escorting you myself, but I do have some matters to attend to with the Waterstones.”
“It’s all right. Thank you for the tour.” I allowed myself one furtive glance over my shoulder as I followed Amalyss and Tasia out. Orin’s composure was perfect, a masterpiece of quiet joy and welcoming warmth as he amicably spoke with Ossanna. I quickly fell into stride beside Amalyss and Tasia without uttering a word.
They led me through an open courtyard as they chatted between themselves and traded gossip about Issa and Flix. I could only bring myself to pick up pieces of their conversation. My mind was still processing the fresh branding on my arm and everything I’d just witnessed with Orin.
We passed by the formal gardens, where neatly trimmed hedges surrounded ornate statues carved out of marble. There was even a small pond with a towering fountain sprouting from the middle of the blue-green depths. Lily pads floated lazily across the rippling surface, and fish with a kaleidoscope of colors drifted beneath the surface. I couldn’t help but gape at the beauty of it all, at the azaleas rimming the pond and the artful walkways.
If only Noam and Nohr could see this.Curing their blight was an impossible task under normal circumstances. And there was the issue of Mavis, too. I chewed on the inside of my lip, and thesharp tang of blood squirted over my tongue. I winced. The thing was, even if I managed to cureonebeing of blight, I’d have to suffer through the aftermath of it. In that respect, it wasn’t any different from mending a broken leg or curing a common cold. I would experience the side effects—to a lesser degree—of whatever ailment I mended, blight included, until my own threads severed. Each act ate away at my lifespan, and I wasn’t sure I had enough years to save Mavisandmy brothers.
And I knew whom I’d be expected to save first.
“You look pale,” Amalyss said, tearing me away from my reverie. “Are we that scary?”
I almost reminded her that she and her sister had attacked me the first time we met. “No. It’s just a lot to process.”
