Page 26 of Tusk Love

“Someone’s looking for you,” he cut across her, his tone hushed. He looked genuinely afraid for her, and a chill went down her spine. “I’m sensing…a heavy presence. How did you come to make such a powerful enemy?”

“I don’t—I’m—” She tensed, remembering her dream. Her father holding the blade, the figure standing behind him. That hoarse command: “Do it now.” Her father’d had to do something, before someone…

There had been a name. She’d heard it as clear as crystal then, but now it hovered frustratingly out of her reach. Her gaze flickered to the pearwood trunk strapped to Pudding’s back. Mercenaries always worked for someone else, didn’t they? Was it the same powerful presence that the feygiant was picking up on?

Dear gods, what had her parents gotten her into?

When Guinevere looked at Elaras again, deep furrows were carved into his brow. After a while, he shook his head in annoyance, long ears twitching. “I lost the thread,” he muttered. “You might be dealingwith another magic user. Which makes it all the more imperative for you to learn how to wieldyourmagic.”

“But it’s impossible!” Guinevere burst out. “I can’t!”

“At this point,” said Elaras, “I don’t think it matters whether youcan.The simple fact is that youhave to.You must learn how to protect yourself. And the horses.” He paused, then added begrudgingly, “And Oskar.”

When he put it like that, of course Guinevere had no choice. She would do anything to keep her little party safe. She summoned some semblance of determination from deep within herself, and she closed her eyes once more and let Elaras guide her through the meditation process anew. This time, she tuned out all her niggling fears, and it was easier now that she had a purpose.

Oskar, Pudding, and Vindicator. She would protect them from…well, whoever it was.

The various noises of Labenda settled in around her. She opened her heart to it all, and it was impossible until it wasn’t. Something clicked like one last puzzle piece sliding into place, the great chain of being turning over with the song of the seasons. She gripped her totem, her fingers curving through silver and around bone, the earth of her origins warm and soft. She found the pathway and she followed it down, into herself, into the ashes. And somewhere there at journey’s end, Teinidh of the Wailing Embers turned to Guinevere and grinned a mouth of fiery coals, like she had been waiting.

Hello.

Chapter Eighteen

Oskar

What,Oskar wondered as he returned to the clearing,am I looking at?

Guinevere and the treehugger were sitting cross-legged and facing each other, their eyes closed. She was clutching the little skull that she wore on a chain around her neck, and there was now a thistle flower sprouting out of it. The grass was moving, as were the shrubs and the banyan branches, but there was no wind. The horses pranced anxiously.

Not knowing what else to do, Oskar gave a discreet cough, tossing the catch bag full of catfish onto the ground. The plump, slow-moving creatures had been lurking in the shallows, easy to bring down with arrows that he’d used as makeshift spears.

Guinevere reacted like he’d spearedher.She screamed and leapt to her feet, shoving the skull back beneath her bodice, her violet eyes wide with horror.

He frowned. “What—”

“Mr. Elaras thinks there’s a heavy presence chasing us!” she all but yelled.

“I don’tthinkit,” said the feygiant, opening his own eyes. “Ifeelit, and thus I know it to be true. Which is why you must—”

“He sensed that there was something wrong, so he was trying to discern what it was.” Guinevere turned to Elaras. “Isn’t that so?”

She was a bad liar. Her silvery-blond hair was practically standing on end. Even with her back to him, Oskar had a pretty good idea of the sort of look she was giving Elaras at that moment—all trembly and beseeching. It came as no surprise that Elaras caved, nodding slowly.

“I suppose that that’s all there was to it,” he mumbled.

Master con artists, the two of you are not,Oskar thought dryly. In all likelihood, they had been doing some sort of magic-user thing that was far beyond his grasp. But Guinevere clearly didn’t want him to know thatshehad magic, so he decided to let it go and focus on a far more worrying detail.

“Who’s after us?” he asked Elaras.

“I don’t know,” said the warden of Labenda.

“What do they look like?”

“I’ve no clue.”

“Are they after the trunk? Were they the ones who hired the mercenaries?”

Elaras blinked. “What mercenaries? And do you mean that trunk over there that Pudding’s carrying?”

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