“That’s why Neela is very good with herbs, even though she isn’t a Warren,” Jessa said.
“Exactly,” Torian said. “Where some Warrens have no skill with it.”
“Like my father.” Emariya had always thought it was a lack of interest on her father’s part, not a lack of skill.
“Right. But the goddess said that the gift of the Warrens became misinterpreted through the prophecy, because of the line ‘will of the soil’ everyone assumed that meant the Warren’s power was derived from the earth. The goddess said she thinks that line was intended to refer to Reeve and Emariya, but they couldn’t be denoted by their gifts because they carried two. So instead, they were referred to by their home, Eltar.
“The Warren gift is actually much more than we had realized. It is an elemental-based magic, which is why Riya is so strong with fire.”
“Not strong enough,” Emariya muttered.
“You’re getting there, My Lady.” Torian clasped her fingers in one of his own hands, squeezing gently before he continued. “And she also has an affinity with the earth itself, which is why she amplifies herbs. On the contrary, she will never be strong with water—but she can manipulate it with the assistance of one who is, like her grandmother, Irina.”
“So that is why creating the ice bridge drained me so much more than using fire does.”
“Yes. Your brother on the other hand has an affinity for the air—wind—and also water. Fire is difficult for him. Like you with water, he can do it but not strongly. Apparently, throughout the years, many Warrens have never learned to tap into their gifts because when they found that they didn’t have any skill with herbs they mistakenly believed that they didn’t have the gift at all.”
“My grandmother said that the Warren’s gift only responds to intent.”
“She isn’t wrong, that is true. But while the intent determines the result, the very elements themselves can also be created out of strong emotions.”
Emariya felt heat creep into her cheeks, remembering the circle of flame that resulted from her and Torian’s last joining. Emotions, indeed.
“So what’s our plan? I don’t think they are going to just invite us back into Damphries,” Blaine said.
Torian held up three fingers. “The way I see it, we have a few choices. Over the walls, through the walls, or under the walls.”
“Over doesn’t sound very practical.” Jessa wrinkled her brow.
“Neither does under, too much risk of any tunnel we built collapsing in on us,” Kahl said.
“I guess through it is,” Emariya said. “We just need to figure out how.”
“What about you and your mother? You need to make peace with her, or we may not have any chance once we get through.”
“If I’m taking my mindroot she shouldn’t be able to get to me, right?” Making peace with her mother or her brother wasn’t in Emariya’s plans.
“You may need to open yourself up to a connection though; what if we are in separate areas of the estate?” Her grandfather asked.
“Then you two can pass messages.” Emariya gestured between Kahl and Blaine. “I’m not making nice, not after everything she has done.”
They only want you to find peace, and to be safe. As safe as possible given what you need face. I
don’t blame them.
Emariya pulled her cloak up around her ears, buried her face against Torian’s back and tried to shut out the wisdom of her father and her friends. They didn’t understand that some things just weren’t able to be fixed.
Her temper didn’t calm any throughout the day. She clung to Torian’s nearness, and while it began to soothe the pain in her heart—that awful lump that had lodged itself deep within her when she thought he was dead—as it thawed she was left with only a pool of molten rage.
The cruelty of The Three was inexcusable! They had manipulated her emotions for their own satisfaction, under the guise of their obligation to the land. This was all a game to them. She’d not let her mother make her a pawn, but each of them were a pawn to The Three. Her promise to them rang in her ears. How was she supposed to defeat her brother?
That night when they made camp, Emariya had her first chance to intentionally draw upon her emotions to create fire. She drew the threads of her hatred for The Three around her in a cloak of anger. With a flick of her hand, she lit their campfire with ease, then allowed herself a smile of satisfaction as the dark amber flames rose high into the murky night sky. Heavy smoke rose higher and higher until it obstructed their view of the bright evening stars.
Terin Ahlen lay awake in the dark, staring at the man beside her. His arm draped heavily across her while his chest rose and fell in the deep rhythm of slumber.
With slow, determined movements she slipped from beneath him and crawled out of bed. It took a few moments of fumbling around in the dark before she found her gown and slipped into it. She bit back the sobs that were determined to burst free, sure that she’d wake him if she allowed them loose.
With the back of her hand, she wiped away a lonely tear.
She’d fallen asleep feeling safe in Reeve’s arms. Why then had she awoken to a feeling of such extreme disgust? Worse still, she was more ashamed of herself than of him. Alone in the hallway at last, she closed the door behind her, leaned against it and let out a ragged sigh.
In her weeks at Damphries—ugh, even the name of it sounded vile, like a murky pit of hopelessness—she’d come to know the hallways well, and most of the guards too. After she’d fought to remain with him, Reeve had trusted her not to run off and allowed her more freedom. With the warning of what he’d do if she attempted to escape, of course. Terin shuddered.
The guards she passed nodded respectfully, but none stopped her descent through the lower halls to the dungeon. Looking over her shoulder to ensure she was still unobserved, she slipped inside.
“You have to help me,” she whispered to the Councilor locked inside the closest cell.
The balding Councilor Calkirk snorted. “Oh, now you want assistance? After Lady Warren’s companions tried so hard to free you?”
Terin closed her eyes and her shoulders sagged as she remembered clawing at Garith, scratching and biting until he let her go back to her captor. “I... I was not myself.”
Lord Calkirk’s eyes softened. “Be that as it may, what is it you believe I can do from in here?”
She wrapped her hands around the cold metal bars. “Your men—they are still out there, and they are still loyal to you, not Reeve. He’s had nothing but trouble with them.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t. But I have seen that you will, so you might as well stop stalling so that we can both be on with it.”
Uneasiness flared in his aged eyes. “And what else have you seen?”
Trying to sound assured, she said, “I will send a guard of your choosing—one who is loyal to you and only you—down here to you. You will instruct him that when the time comes and my brother shows up once more at the gates, he will make sure that we are able to let them through. He is to turn as many of the other employees of the estate to our cause as he can, and dispose of any that he can’t.”
“And if I do this? How do I know my guardsmen won’t die for treason?”
Terin narrowed her eyes. “He may do exactly that. I will be sure that he does if you do not have him do exactly as I say.”
Lord Calkirk’s expression hardened. “And if he follows your orders, you’ll see to it that if we survive this, he is justly rewarded?”
“Councilor, if any of us survive, that shall be reward on its own.”
Emariya frowned at the horizon. It looked almost identical to how it had looked the day before.
And the day before that.
“Why don’t you come sit?” Torian called from behind her. “We’ll start out again first thing in the morning. Even if you aren’t tired, the horses are.”
She tried not to smile. He’d come to know her so well. She might urge him onward if he admitted that he were tired, but she wouldn’t risk injuring Raina. Her grandparents’ wan faces showed the hazards of the journey as well. Restlessness stirred within her, and she paced around the camp, unable to sit with the others.
“Do you want to work on communicating with our ancestors more?” Blaine asked from his spot beside Jessa. Since Emariya and Torian’s return from visiting The Three, there had been no further sign of the discomforts between the two lovers. Somehow, they’d worked it out. Her cousin, as well as her grandfather, had practiced opening and closing the connection to the spirits with her, passing messages several times. It came more easily to her now, and her mother hadn’t made any further appearance. Still, Emariya wasn’t in the mood to talk to any of her companions and she didn’t need the spirits poking into her business either.
No one else seemed to understand her anger. Torian could empathize, and she’d seen the pity in everyone else’s eyes, but no one else could truly comprehend how real it had been to her. Therefore, none of them could really understand her fury. She’d at least reached a point where being a few feet away from Torian didn’t chase panic into her throat as eagerly as a pack of rabid hounds, delighting in the pursuit of their prey. Some moments Emariya felt like the hounds, at other times the prey.
“We need to decide how we’re going to breach the walls,” Kahl said. “I think you have a good grasp of fire now, but unless you are planning to smoke them out, it isn’t going to get us inside.”
A corner of Emariya’s mouth turned up in a half smile.
“My sister is still in there. And some of the Councilors may be friendly. I know there are always casualties in war, but I’d like to explore other options first.”
Her smile dropped as she turned toward her companions. “We will do what we have to.”
“What about bringing down the wall itself?” Kahl proposed. “You could pull the rocks apart at the seams, especially if you anchored yourself to the Warrens of the past.”
“You’ve made the ground rumble before, it could work,” Torian said, eying her intently.
Could she tear apart the actual wall of an estate? Emariya glanced around, spotting a large boulder not far away. Two smaller boulders held audience at its base, nestled in a bed of new spring flowers.
She directed her energy at the unforgiving rock and pushed.
The rock wobbled, but defied her.
“You can do it, Riya,” Jessa said. “Just tap into your anger and your emotions like you do with the fire. Let yourself feel how The Three—”
The boulder jerked away from the smaller rocks, carving an angry gash through the soil.
“Yeah. That.” Jessa gulped.
Emariya straightened her shoulders back in satisfaction. It was no longer a question of could. The only question that remained was how far she would go to confront her brother. The simple answer was: however far it took.
Even though she couldn’t see it, Emariya knew Damphries waited just beyond the hill at the edge of her sight. She could close her eyes and imagine the hill fading away, no longer blocking her view of the towering walls. Her lids fluttered open and she watched the setting sun paint the sky in the colors of flame. In a hurry to be done its duty—for today at least—the sun raced below the horizon, leaving beyond a cold blanket of blues and purples, before at last it had entirely retreated, leaving only the inky evening sky behind.
Tonight, even the stars hid from her wrath.
She’d lost track of how long she’d spent staring at the sunset. Torian’s plan had been wise, though frustrating. They would rest this night before hurrying to Damphries the next morning. They should be there before the day reached its peak, and The Three willing it would all be over before the sun could set again.
“You aren’t still practicing are you?” Torian asked, slipping his arms around her waist.
She leaned back for a moment, reveling in the feel of him alive beside her. Her heart had not yet recovered from the pain of seeing his lifeless form—and his was only a trick that lasted less than a day. How had her father retained any of his sanity after losing Lady Valencia? Emariya shook her head, trying to clear it of thoughts of her mother.
Torian must have misunderstood her gesture. His shoulders relaxed. “Good. Don’t wear yourself out.”
“It doesn’t take nearly as much out of me as it used to. I’m as strong on my own now as I once was with Grandmother Irina’s assistance. Just not with ice. And if she helps me, Reeve won’t stand a chance.”
“Don’t grow overconfident, young lady.” Her grandfather’s warning sounded from his seat by the fire. “More wars than you would think have been lost for no other reason than the better man saw no need to show up and fight.”
“Have no fear. I intend to fight,” Emariya growled. Her ever-present anger surged, and she directed the excess energy at the campfire.
The resulting surge of heat comforted her, soothing away the aches of travel and the agony of her heart. She encouraged the flames to burn hotter.
“I think that’s enough, Emariya.” Kahl stood.
Ignoring her grandfather and sighing with the release of some of her anger, Emariya stoked the fire. The flames darkened, becoming tinged with shades of blue and purple. She barely registered her grandfather jerking Alara to her feet. He yelped and they both leaped back from the inferno.
“Emariya!” Torian’s yell sounded like it fell on her ears through a tunnel, despite the fact that his arms were still around her waist. “Stop!”
She didn’t want to stop. Finally something was soothing the pain. The ground darkened and began to crack outward from the center of the fire, forking and splitting as it painted dark angry veins through which her fury surged. Emariya smiled, thinking it resembled how her heart must look. Soot-covered stone, cracking under the pressure.
Em, you have to stop!
The panic in her father’s voice struck her as odd, but it felt so incredible to just give herself over to the power. She shut it out. Her hurt was fading, feeding the fire, leaving her unbroken and even stronger than before. Tendrils of smoke curled away from the pillar of flame, swirling around her feet.