“My grandmother had much more of an ability than I do. Smoke would come out her ears and sometimes things would fly around. I don’t remember much as she died when I was young. My mother’s hands just smoked, no fire. I suspect Enar has some ability, but he’s never said and I’m not going to ask.”
“I don’t think he can start fires. Or at least I’ve never seen his hands catch on fire. He might be able to do other things. I’ll ask him.”
“Are you daft? You don’t ask a Watcher anything. I like you and don’t want to see you hurt.”
Lily couldn’t stop the eye roll. “Enar would never hurt me.” Unless dropping her off at the Claims’ House counted as hurting. Next time he stopped by he was getting an earful.
Ayla paused, brows gathering. “You’ve said that before.”
“And I’ll say it again. With the exception of dropping me off here, he has been nothing but kind to me. He took me out of a horrible situation, saved me from drowning, and I...I...” she took a deep breath, refusing to say the words. “He’s a good man.”
Eyes blinking rapidly, Ayla stared at Lily. If the woman’s jaw widened any further Lily would be able to see all the way to her toes.
Lily smelled the scent of oil burning in the torch, heard the flicker of flame mixed with several moments of the inhale and exhale of breath rustling through an open mouth.
She defended Enar to Ayla, but a part of her wanted to rail against him. How dare he drop her off at this place? And with her archenemy inside. Most definitely, the next time he showed his face around here, she’d let him have it. She might not possess the ability to shoot fire out her hands, but she remained a force to be reckoned with all the same.
Chapter 22
Enar opened the door to his barrack room and took a deep breath, expecting to smell the musty scent of mildew. Instead, the room smelled fresh, like someone had lived here recently. The cover on the bed looked clean, not the dusty mess he expected to see. Striding to the window, he pushed open the shutters, allowing light to flood the small room.
A bed, chair and night-table stood against one wall. The opposite wall held a small fireplace. With fresh ashes. Enar knelt and ran his finger through the remains of wood. Then he walked to the door and peered out, looking at the number tacked onto the wood paneling.
Yes, he was in the right place. So why did it look lived in instead of abandoned?
He kicked shut the door and fell into the chair. Legs stretched out in front, arms resting behind his head, he tilted the chair back so it balanced on two legs.
A mystery. Good. It gave him something else to think about besides his reaction to his mother and Lily’s panic-stricken face as he’d left her with Ayla. He’d almost turned into a sap like Thoren, but despite the ache in his chest—bloody idiot, he’d forgotten to ask a priestess about those pains—he’d managed to leave Lily behind.
As a claim, she should reside in the Claims’ House. Not with him. No matter what he wanted. What kind of a Watcher would he be if he stayed with his woman? All the teasing he received as a child would seem like nothing compared to what would happen if he took Lily away from the Claims’ House to live with him.
No, it was better she stayed put. He’d learn to deal with missing her curves snuggled against him, her smile in the morning, the way she touched him like she cared for him.
And his mother. Their relationship was tense, to put it mildly. He wished he could take her away, take her back to her own people, but Viktor’s claiming necklace hung around her neck, prohibiting her from leaving. At least his father had stopped visiting her, had stopped hitting her years ago. Viktor’s hate toward Ayla filtered down to her son.
Putting those not-so-happy memories out of the way, Enar focused on the door.
And waited.
Before long he heard light steps followed by the rustle of a lock being picked. The door cracked open and a small body snuck inside, looking up and down the alley before shutting the door.
Enar sat forward, the weight shift causing the chair legs to hit the floor with a loud crack. The boy jumped, spinning around, flinching when his back pressed against the wooden door, his breath hitching in his throat.
“Have you been keeping care of my place for me?”
The boy gulped and one hand tried to crawl upward to the doorknob.
“Stop. Sit.” Enar pointed to the bed.
Face pale, the lad inched to the bed and sat upright, his gaze dropping to the floor.
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t take anything. I just wanted a place to stay.”
“A lad like yourself should be with your father.” Enar pulled the chair so it faced the bed and sat, watching the minute movements of the boy, the way his breath caught, his upright posture.
The boy’s knuckles whitened. “Yessir.”
Enar reached forward to lay his hand on the boy’s shoulder, his fingers encountering wetness as they touched his back. The lad jumped, his already pale face taking on the complexion of the recently dead and Enar saw the flutter of his shirt as his heart thudded in his chest.
Poor lad. A sudden memory surfaced, one of himself as a boy, hiding from his father in another Watcher’s empty room, breath shallow from the pain clawing at him.
Enar dropped his hand and sat back. “What’s your name, lad?”
“Galvin, sir.”
“Well, Galvin, why are you not at training?”
“I finished early.” Galvin’s gaze skittered across Enar’s face before resting on the fireplace.
Enar waited, not moving, knowing a lie when he heard one.
The boy sighed. “He said I was worthless and should leave his presence. He’ll forget about it by tomorrow and never tells my father so I do as he says and come here.”
Nice to know his internal lie detector still worked. “And you go home when training is over and your father is none the wiser?”
Galvin swallowed. “Sometimes. Sometimes I stay here. Like tonight. But I can’t now that you’re here. I’ll just be going.” He tried to stand, but Enar placed a hand on his arm.
“Not so fast.” Enar took a deep breath, remembering his own childhood until his father banished him to live with Thoren. “You may still stay here if you’d like. Unless I have Li—my claim here, then you must stay away. Agreed?”
“But what do you get out of the deal?”
Enar shrugged one shoulder. “Doesn’t matter.”
Galvin’s lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. “Thank you. I won’t be no trouble. I promise.”
“I know, now take off your shirt and let’s see to those stripes.”
The boy’s mouth fell open. “How’d you know that?”
“Observation. Go on. I’ll get this salve the Draconi priestesses gave me for healing wounds.”
“Draconi?”
Enar heard the sound of the boy’s shirt dropping onto the floor as he rummaged in his pack looking for the salve.
“Yes. Here it is.” He showed the jar to Galvin as he sat next to the boy on the bed. “Go on and lay down and I’ll put this on.”
Galvin stretched out on his stomach, his face to Enar. “So you like the Draconi?”
Pausing with his fingers halfway dipped into the jar, Enar stared at the lad. “What kind of a half-brained, silly question is that? Of course I like the Draconi, I protect them. That’s what we’re supposed to do, what Watchers are bred for. What are they teaching you children nowadays to have to ask that?”
Galvin blushed, but didn’t turn away. “Some think Watchers should stop caring for Draconi. Why do they need us anyway? They’re powerful sorcerers and don’t need guardians.”
“That’s just crazy talk.” But he wondered the same thing. Why did a race of sorcerers who had the ability to blow a person into pieces with a word even need warriors to guard them? Not that he would mention those thoughts to Galvin.
A half-shrug flitted across Galvin’s frame. “Some say we are more powerful. That Draconi have lost the ability to become sorcerers.”
Enar snorted and rubbed the cream against the welts on Galvin’s upper back. The boy flinched but plodded along.
“Well, some think that. No one ever sees Draconi work magic. You say you’ve seen a priestess, but no one else has. They sit on the Council with our elders, but the elders do not talk about Council activities or about if Draconi still work magic. Some say that’s because the Draconi no longer practice magic, that they aren’t as powerful as we are and that we should overthrow their oppressive regime.”
Enar stopped spreading the cream, too shocked to move. Of all the crazy things he’d heard in his time, this one had to be the most insane. How could anyone think Draconi didn’t work magic? Worse was the overthrowing part of Galvin’s statement. “Are you saying Watchers are planning to kill Draconi?”
Galvin nodded.
“And when is this killing supposed to start?”
“I don’t know. Father won’t tell me. He doesn’t like me.”
“And what do you think about the Draconi?”
“I’ve only met the one who is supposed to be my assignment once. He didn’t talk much.”
“So you agree with your father?”
“I dunno. I mean, it doesn’t really make a lot of sense, does it? For us to be guarding them if they’re so powerful?”
He’d wondered the same thing, but it didn’t mean he wanted to overthrow the Draconi. As if he could. If the Watchers continued on this path, they would be slaughtered and if the Draconi got angry enough, the village of Watchers would be razed. A chill passed through him, shaking his fingers as he spread the salve across Galvin’s back. Although he had been teased without ceasing as a child, and to some extent remained shunned, it didn’t mean he wanted to see his people destroyed.
“Draconi are more powerful than you can imagine. Your father and his cronies should know better. Don’t they guard their assignments?”
“They do, but they’ve never seen one work magic. No one Father has met has seen a Draconi work magic.”
“He hasn’t met the right people. The Council members see magic worked. I’ve seen it worked and let me tell you, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of an angry Draconi.”
“If you say so.”
Enar wondered who he should tell about this. His father? Maybe not his father. He didn’t plan on speaking to his old man until he had Lily on his arm.
But someone needed to be told and quick.
Thoren? Thoren sat on the Council now. The next time he returned to their stone chamber was one minute too soon. But who better to counter a threat?
He cursed. He’d need to report to the Council one more time. Just when he thought he’d never had to see those thirteen carved chairs anytime soon, a threat occurred.
A thought struck him, curving his lips. He could take Lily. Spend some time with her. Erase the memory of him leaving her with his mother. Good idea. He would take Lily to see Keara and Thoren would know what to do about the Watchers’ insane plan.
But first he needed to show Lily to his father if the old man was in the village. Prove to him Enar was worthy of being a Watcher. See what he said when Enar showed up with the Watchers’ ideal claim.
And then, after he shocked his father into acceptance, he could take Lily to the Temple and tell Alviss what half-brained plans the Watchers had percolating in their spare time.
In order to leave, though, he’d have to ensure Galvin didn’t get suspicious and return home to his father. Tomorrow would be best as Enar doubted the Watchers would attack tonight.
He finished smoothing the cream on Galvin’s back, remembering being caned for not paying attention in class. Another thing he liked about living with Thoren as a boy, no canes.
“Well, son, you’re all patched up and ready for action.”
Galvin pushed up to a sitting position. “Thanks. It feels much better.”
“It should. The priestesses are great healers.”
“You keep talking about them. What are they like?”
Since he asked, Enar decided to give a lecture of his own. One on the benefits of working for the Draconi.
****
“Lily!”
The bellow thundered through the fountain room like an enraged boar, rattling the white-robed women sitting on colorful pillows. Eyes wide, the women shrunk into themselves, scared despite the bellowing boar not being their Watcher.
Lily smiled. Enar had come for her.
She ignored the aghast looks as she leapt from her colored floor pillow and raced to the antechamber where Enar waited.
Once they were alone he’d get an earful about leaving her here, but for now excitement at seeing him reigned.
The air expelled from Enar’s lungs in a loud oomph as Lily smacked into him, wrapping her arms about his waist as tight as she could. His arms tightened about her ribs in return, clasping her against his chest. She refused to release her grip. Under no circumstance was he leaving without her.
“Enar! Thank goodness you came back. You have to get me out of here. They—”
“Enar! You’re back so soon.” Ayla walked into the room, her steps so quiet, Lily missed hearing their sound.
Then again, seeing Enar occupied her thoughts to the exclusion of all else.
She felt the subtle switch in Enar, the tenseness in his muscles as he turned to Ayla. She refused to look and see the coldness she knew had crept into his eyes. Why did he act this way around his mother?
“Greetings, Mother. Please gather Lily’s clothing and put them in this bag.” Enar tossed a brown knapsack to Ayla. “We’re going on a journey and she can’t wear the white dress.”