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I would guess she’s a couple of years younger than me, maybe nineteen. She’s beautiful. She has long wavy red hair, parted in the center and half pinned up. Her soft green eyes are large, set against flawless fair skin, dusted with freckles across her cheeks and nose. She has a small mouth with pouty lips that are currently in an O shape. She’s a couple of inches shorter than I am, and fine-boned, wearing a dress that’s not as finely crafted as mine, but also not as simple as a servant’s. We may look different on the outside, but inside of her thrums magic. An irrational bubble of emotion fills my heart at being in the presence of someone likeme.
“You’re a sorcerer,” she breathes out.
I haven’t seen another sorcerer in years. As far as I knew they were all locked up. But then, I’ve evaded capture, I suppose it’s not too far-fetched to believe that others have as well. A part of me wants to stay here with her, get to know her, and keep her safe. My magic sings to the power in her, to the familiarity it senses. But a wiser part of me screams that this is dangerous. It’s bad enough that Kellan knows I’m a magic user, but now this stranger does. She might be a sorcerer, but I know nothing about her, least of all if she’s trustworthy. I should go.
“Forget you ever saw me,” I say.
I start to pull away, but she holds on tighter. “Wait, please.” Her eyes water.
I am just as reluctant to let go, but like swallowing a foul-tasting tincture to feel better later, I know it’s best to go our separate ways and quickly. I soften my voice and lightly squeeze her arms. “I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous.”
The corners of her mouth pull down and her eyes are so sad when she nods. “I know.”
What has she been through to survive? Nothing good. “I imagine you do.”
She lightly squeezes my forearms back. “Be safe, sister.”
My heart lurches at the endearment and my nose burns at the threat of tears, but I steel my nerves and give her a small parting smile. “You as well.”
We both let go, and once again she disappears from the space in front of me as if she was never there—as if none of my people were ever there. We have been reduced to hide, to slink in the shadows, with nothing but fear and loneliness for companions. I cover my mouth to keep the whimper from escaping, but two warm tears streak past my defenses.
Once I’m back in my rooms, I lock the door behind me. My breathing is heavy, and my heart pounds in my chest. Daimis was right, there is a lot going on in this castle, and none of it good. But I can’t get caught up in it. I have to keep my head down. My thoughts go back to the sorcerer girl. What is she doing in the castle? This is the most dangerous place for her to be. But then again, it’s the most dangerous place for me as well, but here I am. I hope she stays hidden and safe.
Chapter11
Challenge
Ijust finished the rehabilitation exercises the healer showed me, in order to strengthen my muscles after the injury and disuse. But it’s not enough to just focus on my muscles, so I’ve now added the daily exercises Desmira taught me. A series of flowing movements Des said would not only stretch out muscles but also strengthen one’s inner energy that’s responsible for controlling magic. Now more than ever I’ll need to be able to control what’s in me.
I move my hands in fluid motions, letting the magic out just enough that it flows with me in curling, rolling, black tendrils of mist tinged in blue. I stretch and balance into different positions, never stopping through the transitions, using proper breathing techniques as I do. Sweat rolls down my spine, and my muscles burn and shake at the exertion. I don’t feel as centered as I usually do. Instead of clearing my mind completely, like I’m supposed to, it keeps drifting to the expression on the prisoner’s face. To all of the shadow people I saw. And to the sorcerer girl.
I drop my arms and growl in irritation. My magic, feeding off my mood, bursts out from me in a gust of power, knocking things off every surface in a clatter. I sigh and work to pick everything back up. I remind myself, again, that there was nothing I could do for the broken people. And that I couldn’t just befriend the sorcerer girl. It was too dangerous. I did the right thing. A knock sounds at my door. I ignore it, not wanting to see anyone, and place a brass vase back on the table it fell from.
The knock comes again, followed by Kellan’s voice. “Sky, it’s me.” A pause, as he waits to see if I’ll come now that I know it’s him at the door.
I huff.Nope.
“I take it you’re still mad at me for the quest?” he asks through the door. “It will all work out for the best, I promise.”
I’m sure once he realizes I won’t answer the door, he’ll leave. I pick up the brush and shawl from the floor and drape the shall back on the chair before placing the brush on the nightstand.
“So,” he continues. “I was thinking we could have dinner in the garden tonight.” Another pause. “I’ve even arranged for ice cream to be served.”
Ice cream?Despite my resolve, my mouth waters. I haven’t had ice cream since I lived in the castle. It’s a difficult dessert that can only be made when traders bring ice from glaciers to the castle in special insulated boxes.
“Okay, Sky, I’m starting to get worried. Are you okay? If you don’t come to the door, just to let me know you’re still alive in there, then I’m going to get the key and come in to be sure you are…Sky? Sky?”
Ugh. There he goes again, thinking he’s the hero in my story. I untie the long skirts that I had bound up to make the movements easier, go to the door, and open it. Kellan has just turned, probably to go find the key. “I’m fine,” I say and start to close the door again. He pivots back around and puts his boot in the jam, the door jutting up against his black leather.
He gives me that irritatingly handsome smile of his. “Then you can come dine with me after all.”
I roll my eyes. “If my ignoring your knocking wasn’t enough of a clue, then let me spell it out for you; I’m not in the mood for company. Leave me alone.” As an afterthought, I add, “please.”
His brows crease. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I say. “I’m just—“
“Sky, I can tell something upset you. It’s written all over your face.” He reaches out and holds my hand. At first, I’m startled by it, but his creased brows show genuine concern. I let the warmth of his touch seep in for a moment, a comfort foreign and inviting.
