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She raised an eyebrow. “Your sister’s magic is just like Eva’s was, isn’t it? She’s the key to all of this.”
Magnus’s expression darkened. “How can she locate it? And when? Must the road be finished first?”
“Questions—so many questions.” She cocked her head, studying him. “All I can tell you is she’s in danger. Her magic puts her at great risk. If it overwhelms her, all will be lost before anything can be found—and I know you don’t want that. I believe Lucia means more to you than any treasure. And I know how to help her. Shall I tell you?”
His eyes narrowed. “Speak.”
“There is a ring that was forged in the Sanctuary from the purest magic to help the original sorceress control the Kindred and her own elementia. This ring is closer that you might expect.”
“Tell me more.” His words were sharp and eager now. “Where can I find it?”
“If I tell you, you will release Jonas and you will have your father cease construction of this road.”
“And if you don’t tell me, I’ll slit his throat right now.”
The part of her mark visible above the edge of the tapestry swirled and brightened.
The sword’s hilt began to glow orange. Magnus released it with a gasp of pain.
“Wrong answer,” Phaedra said. “Perhaps you’re not ready for my help yet. Pity. Mark my words, one day you’ll wish you’d been more amenable to my advice. Jonas, we must go.”
o;Earth magic has pulled you back from the precipice of death. Earth magic can either heal or kill, depending on who wields it. You’re lucky I like you.”
He looked down at himself, pulling his ruined shirt to the side and wiping at the blood. So much blood, but there was no longer a wound beneath. His skin had healed. His body was whole again, including his wrist the guard had broken.
Had she said earth magic?
But magic . . . it didn’t exist. He’d never believed.
This was impossible. And yet . . .
His gaze snapped to hers. “You saved my life.”
“I did. I tried to resist, to continue to watch from afar. I still don’t know if you’ll be any good to me—to us. Getting captured is one thing. At least there’s still hope for escape. But dying . . .” She groaned and placed her hands on her hips. “I couldn’t help myself. I had to shift from my hawk form, and now—well, now I’m stuck here.”
This girl was mad. Completely mad. “Hawk form?”
“Yes, that is what Watchers can do.”
His eyes bugged. Watcher?
“Here,” she said, “since I can no longer shift form I’ll show you proof of what I am another way. Or . . . what I was until now.”
She pulled at the tapestry she’d used to cover herself. The cloth slipped from her chest and he gawked at it. Not for the reasons he would ever have gawked at a girl’s breasts—although Phaedra’s were the loveliest he’d ever seen in his life.
There was a mark over her heart—a swirl the size of his palm— like molten gold dancing on her flesh.
“It’ll turn darker in the years to come,” she said wistfully. “As my magic begins to fade.”
He couldn’t find his voice to speak, could barely find the air to breathe. Could this be true?
The hawk—the one who perched nearby camp every day. The one who’d followed him here into Paelsia. The one he’d tried to ignore. Had it been Phaedra?
Magic was real? Watchers were real?
It flew in the face of everything he’d believed. But seeing it, seeing her, with his own eyes—
Jonas jumped as he felt the sharp tip of a sword press against his throat. He condemned himself for losing focus, for being utterly distracted by Phaedra’s strange swirling mark and the proof of magic that caused his thoughts to become a jumbled, confused tangle.
