Page 84 of Ties of Dust

“I wish I had,” Cassius replied bitterly. “But it’s considered beneath those of high rank in Carrack. Just as with any craft, my parents would have been ashamed for me to apply myself to the level required to master it. I was expected to focus my energy on matters of state and leave practical trades to the tradesmen.”

Flora smiled faintly at the regret in his voice. “I know, Cassius. Every kingdom on the Peninsula has the same attitude toward the craft. Probably the continent, too. I was teasing you.”

Cassius didn’t reply at once, frowning over something. “I’m not sure the continent does have the same view,” he said slowly, his eyes unfocused. Then he gave his head a shake and his gaze cleared. “What’s next?”

Flora pushed herself upright, determined. “Next I need to get up there and see what I have to work with.” She moved forward and took hold of one end of the rope, tossing the other to Cassius. “Help me?”

He grabbed it obediently, waiting while she knotted her end loosely around her middle. Then Cassius reeled in the rope, his strong arms encountering no difficulty in pulling her weight as she walked up the wall. When she reached the top, she managed to prop her elbows on the edge of thetiny window, her feet trying to find purchase on he wall below.

Her arms were far too weak and sore to hold her up. Then she felt something steady under her boots and looked down to see that Cassius had placed his shoulders underneath her feet, allowing her to stand without effort. The rope was tightly wound from shoulder to elbow on one side of him. She could see the muscles in his arm tightening against his jacket as he continued to hold the rope taut while also supporting her weight with his shoulders.

“This is beneath the dignity of a prince,” she informed him.

“I’ve never been able to maintain my dignity when you’re around,” Cassius replied. “I’m not sure why you think I’d start now.”

She chuckled softly as she looked back to the window. Squinting through it, she could see a moonlit scene.

“I think we’re in a forest,” she said.

“Do you see anything that can help us?” Cassius asked.

She scanned the darkness carefully. “There’s a log over there, but I don’t think that’s strong enough to—aha!” Hope bubbled in her chest. “I see a boulder. It’s probably about the right size.”

She glanced back over her shoulder into the dim cellar. “Can you toss me another section of the ropes?”

She gripped the bars with her hands and braced her feet against the stone while Cassius ducked out from under her feet, returning quickly with the rope. As soon as she took it, he grabbed her feet one at a time with his free hand, placing them carefully back on his shoulders.

Flora balanced precariously while she spun the rope around, forcing her mind to harness the magic. She sent it toward the boulder, but the effect was disappointing.

“It’s a little too large,” she murmured. “I don’t have the willpower in this state for carefully channeling the Dust. I need it to come in a raw form that matches better.”

She looked down at Cassius, who clearly had no idea what she was talking about but was doing his best to follow along.

“Take off your jacket,” she instructed him.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t think you can afford distractions right now, Flora.”

She rolled her eyes, although secretly she was delighted that he’d recovered his equilibrium enough to be mischievous.

“Just do it. I’ll use what little willpower I have left to resist being overwhelmed by your chiseled chest.”

His chuckle was low and throaty, and in spite of what she’d said, Flora did find her focus wavering as he stripped off his jacket, accidentally pulling his tunic momentarily from his chest in the process. Chiseled was no exaggeration.

She snatched quickly at the garment when it was offered to her, pulling her eyes from the prince as she swirled the jacket in a rotating pattern. It wasn’t the most practical of items for the purpose—far less effective than the scarf used by the physician, for example. But it generated some magic, and the shape of the magic was broad enough to encompass the boulder she was trying to shift. She imagined the jacket encasing the boulder and pulling it along, and tried to move the garment consistently with that task.

Of course the jacket wasn’t touching the rock, and even if it had been, it wouldn’t have been strong enough to make it move. But that was where the magic came in. She couldfeel the shape and strength of it in her mind, and she grimaced. It wasn’t very impressive.

“I’m going to have to use all of it, Cassius,” she told him. “It can’t be helped—even so, it may not be enough. But if it works, you’ll need to take over. I’m probably going to be completely incapacitated for a little while.”

“Wait.”

Flora ignored Cassius’s warning. If there was a safer way to do it, she would have taken it. But their lives hung in the balance, and by the sound of it, so did the risk of war. There was no time for lengthy protests.

Flora seized hold of the magic, harnessing every last bit of it and throwing it all toward the boulder. She could feel her energy draining rapidly as her overworked mind focused on molding the magic to her purpose. It wrapped around the rock like a garment and tugged. Slowly, painstaking, the boulder began to move.

Sweat beaded on Flora’s forehead and tears pricked the corners of her eyes at the pain that engulfed her arm as she kept swirling the jacket with all the vigor she could muster. The boulder was almost at the bars.

When it finally rolled into the bars with a dull thunk, she dropped the jacket, her shoulders sagging in sheer exhaustion.

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