Page 61 of Captive

The Bloodstone people call out and wave as we ride through the streets of Karra. I try not to think about Hector’s livery collar and how he had placed it around his neck before he entered the city.

Our party has been reduced to a small number of warriors. The rest, including Nahlia, Edvard, and Mildred—who bears a red rash around her neck, but otherwise appears to have suffered no permanent injury from the Malachites’ vine—rode to the palace with Kheldar.

Everly thinks my quick attack on the Malachites spared Mildred’s life. I have no wish to revisit what happened in that valley. Instead, I think of our smallest survivor.

Ever since I collapsed after healing Hero, Nahlia has kept Edvard with her. My arms long to hold him again. Every part of me knows he’s better off with her. After all, she can feed him and care for him. The knowledge doesn’t make me miss him any less.

I allow the sights, sounds, and smells of the city to distract me. The cobbled streets widen as we continue. It seems as though the whole place is holding its breath, waiting in anticipation for something. Huge and grandiose stone buildings surround us, all towering over us with an air of importance.

The wind blows softly, and with it comes a swirl of voices and laughter from the many shops and booths lining the sides of the street. The pleasing aroma of baked pastries and herbs carries to me, making my stomach gurgle. Sadly, Hector leads us right past the bakery.

Bloodstone guards stand in strategic places throughout the fortified city. On rooftops. In front of shops. In the alleys. They even patrol the streets in groups of eight.

Escaping this place will not be easy, but I know I can do it. I just need to steal a set of Leah’s armor…and a weapon, of course. I have never seen her without a broadsword on her hip.

My stomach tightens into a hard knot as I think of leaving Hector, but I cannot stay and give his people back magic.

Hector pulls Hale to a stop outside one of the small cottages and addresses his warriors. “Stay here. Sol and I will speak to the Seer.”

The Seer?

For an imprudent moment, I think of clinging to Hale’s back and not going with Hector. But I don’t. Instead, I allow him to help me dismount, then I follow him into the cottage. It’s barely large enough for a bed, shelves, a washing stand, a table, and chairs.

My breath hitches at the sight of the Seer. She’s the young woman I spoke to when Hector agreed to marry me. She has the same gold-streaked hair, the same pale skin and vibrant blue eyes.

She smiles. It takes everything in me to return it. She knew my Fate. Knew about the serpent mark. Knew that was the only reason Hector agreed to wed me.

She’s not Bloodstone, and she owes them nothing. She should have warned me. Instead, she aided them—the tribe the gods took magic from. Except, it’s no longer gone. For some tainted reason, it now flows in my veins. Every day, I feel its pull. The way it begs me to give in to it.

The Seer speaks to Hector first. “Welcome, Hector.” Then she turns her attention to me. “Sol of the Tarrobane,” she says warmly. “Welcome.”

The moment we settle at the table—the Seer on one side, Hector and I on the other—I ask the question that has been at the forefront of my mind. “Why do I have Bloodstone magic?”

The question scalds my tongue as I remember the sound of the Bloodstone warriors squishing the Malachites-turned-maggots.

I shudder and sit on my hands. If I’m sitting on them, nobody will see how much they shake.

The Seer looks at Hector, who folds his arms and appears content to not speak.

“Because you are of the Bloodstone.”

I remember Father writing down our lineage for me. All Kyanite.

“You’re mistaken.”

“Your mother was Bloodstone.” The Seer’s words drive a wedge of pain through my heart. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.

“No.” I shake my head. “My mother would have told me if that were true. There must be another reason I can cast Bloodstone magic.”

A deep sigh escapes the Seer. “You don’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Your mother wasn’t the woman who raised you.” The Seer’s words slice deeper into my chest, threatening to shred through everything I am. Everything I have ever believed. Everything I have ever loved.

“No,” I say definitively.

It’s not true.

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