Page 50 of Fateless

My gaze flickered to the railing. Raithe’s arms tightened around me again.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “This is on my head. I knew something was wrong this evening. I suspected the ma’jhet were looking for you. I just didn’t expect them to use that kind of magic this soon.”

“That was magic?” I whispered.

Raithe nodded. “Almost certainly. That type of dream spellwas common in the age of the kings, so much so that charms and runes were crafted to protect against them. In a dream, they could make a person experience anything. It was a dangerous type of magic that could drive one to self-harm, madness, or even death.” His jaw tightened. “But it hasn’t been used in centuries. I though that type of magic had died out, but it seems the ma’jhet have kept it alive. And now they’re using it against you.”

I shuddered. Even with an ocean of dust between us, I wasn’t safe from the Circle or the Deathless King. Or Vahn, I realized. Vahn was still trying to kill me.

Raithe must’ve sensed my dismay, or perhaps he felt the shiver that went through me, for he bent his head close, curling his body protectively around mine on the deck. “There are things we can do to shield you from the ma’jhet,” he murmured. “My people are experts on the age of the Deathless Kings and their magic. I will protect you, Sparrow. You have my promise.”

I raised my head and met his piercing gaze.

His expression was intense, relief, anger, regret, and determination shining in equal parts from those pale blue eyes. A thin stream of blood trickled from a shallow gash across his cheek; I realized with horror that the wound was from me, from the knife I had stabbed blindly in his direction.

Shame and guilt flared. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand rose and gently touched his face. His eyes closed, a soft breath escaping his lips, as my fingers traced the side of his jaw, brushing his cheek.

The buzz of wings overhead made me jump and caused Raithe to jerk up his head and scan the sky. With a loud droning,the enormous, bulky mass of Rhyne the rock beetle descended and landed on the deck with a thump.

“Raithe? Sparrow? Are you well?” Kysa peered down at us, worry written clearly across her face. Her spear was clutched in one hand, ready for action, as she leaped from the saddle, joining us on the deck. “Is the girl hurt? What has happened?”

I rose quickly, and Raithe did the same. “We’re fine, Kysa,” I told her, which made her frown. “I just... had a nightmare, and...” I faltered, unsure if Raithe wanted me to say anything, not really certain what I would say myself.

“There was an incident.” Raithe stepped forward, drawing the rider’s gaze. “Involving magic, and the ma’jhet. They’re looking for the Fateless.”

Kysa’s gaze narrowed sharply. “What kind of magic?” she asked.

“Based on what Sparrow said earlier, I would guess some kind of scrying magic,” the iylvahn replied. “They’re not here now,” he went on, as Kysa looked around warily, “but we need a plan on how we can prevent certain attacks in the future. Where is Halek?”

“Probably still in the tavern, swindling workers out of their hard-earned wages.” She shook her head. “It is fortunate that everyone seems to like him—I’ve seen d’wevryn sailors stuff gamblers into empty ale barrels and roll them down the stairs if they lose too often.” The insect rider rolled her eyes, then sobered quickly. “If this involves the Fateless, I would like to be a part of it,” she told Raithe. “I know I am not part of your group, nor am I from Kovass, but this is worrying for me and my people.” Sheglanced at me, her smooth brow furrowing. “I also might have a solution for this magic concern, if you will hear it.”

Raithe nodded. “You are welcome to join us, Kysa.”

She turned toward her beetle, who was huffing and tossing his horned head. “I’ve just finished my last patrol, and Rhyne is an impatient beast,” she told us, swinging into the saddle again. “Let me get him settled and I’ll join you in the tavern.”

With a drone of wings, Rhyne and Kysa took to the air. I watched them fly across the deck, then drop from sight over the railing. The buzz of wings faded, and we were alone again.

Raithe looked at me, and there was something different in his eyes. A hint of realization that thrilled and terrified me all at once. The last time someone had looked at me like that, I’d wound up unconscious and tied to a chair, while the person I thought I knew took a cursed soulstone to the Circle to claim the reward for himself.

I couldn’t deal with that again. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Raithe... right now, in this moment. He had vowed to protect me, and I believed him, but only because he thought I was the Fateless. That protection and trust would end the moment we reached the iylvahn city and spoke to the queen. I couldn’t forget that. I had trusted Jeran, too. I’d let down my guard, let myself think that we might have something special, and ended up with a figurative knife in the back. Raithe was a kahjai. How much easier would it be for him to slide a very real knife between my ribs from behind?

And still, despite all that, I found myself wishing we could reclaim that moment on the deck before Kysa found us.

“Sparrow,” the assassin murmured, still watching me intently, “are you all right? Were you hurt?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I told him. “Do you think Kysa can really help us when it comes to magic?”

He inclined his head. “The insect riders, particularly the Scarab Clan of the Eastern Wastes, are an honorable people. They’re also very suspicious of magic. The stories of the rider clans stretch all the way back to the age of the Deathless Kings. In the war of the kings, millions died, and countless races were wiped out, but it is believed that the riders were among the first to flee their empire as it was falling. They vanished, and it was thought they had gone extinct, like many other races. Only within the past hundred years have they returned, and they are very tight-lipped about how they managed to stay hidden from the world for so long.” He took a step, closing the distance between us, though he didn’t touch me. His eyes were conflicted as they met mine. “The ma’jhet want you dead, and I can’t fight them if they’re using magic against you. I think it’s wise that we hear what she has to say.”

Eighteen

“Magic nightmares.” Halek shook his head, furrowing his brow. We were in the tavern once more, sitting at a corner table in the nearly empty room. “That sounds unpleasant. So the Circle are playing dirty, eh? What do we do? How are we going to protect Sparrow?” He glanced at me, a faintly evil grin crossing his face. “I guess we could always tie her to the bed.”

I smirked back. “And then you’ll have to explain to Tahba how you ended up with a knife in the groin.”

He winced. Kysa rolled her eyes and turned to Raithe, who sat quietly at the end of the table with his fingers laced below his chin. “Tell me about this magic,” she said in a practical voice. “You mentioned that you recognized it.”

Raithe uncurled his fingers and sat straighter in the chair. “The Deathless Kings weren’t the only creatures with magic,” he explained to us. “They were undoubtedly the most powerful, and the most destructive, but all magic comes from the same source.”

---