Page 28 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
A low growl filled the air once again. Raith was gripping the bars of his cage with clawed hands, lip curled off his teeth, black gaze locked on Loren.
“You aren’t safe with him. You can’t seriously think you are.”
“Go away, please.”
“You need to listen to me. He’s not human—”
Harrow’s patience finally snapped. Her power rushed to the surface, static charge filling the air.
As a rule, the Seers had been peaceful, respected by the inhabitants of the places they traveled. They were neutral in political conflicts, and wise leaders left them to their own devices, trusting that they could lure them to their domains for counsel with gifts. The not-so-wise leaders who tried controlling the Seers or forcing them to pick sides soon found that they were not quite so peaceful when provoked.
When threatened, a Seer could defend herself—quite well, in fact.
At the first stirrings of Harrow’s power, Loren fell silent, eyes widening as he stepped back. He thought she was human. Everyone did, except Malaikah and, evidently, Salizar. Harrow had always gone to great lengths to hide the truth, but suddenly she was done. She was sick to death of pretending to be something she wasn’t. Sick to death of being afraid of her origins, secretive about her past, fearful of her future.
Reaching her hands beneath her hair, she untied the colorful scarf over her ears and watched the silk float to the ground. “I’mnot human, Loren.”
For fifty years, she’d hidden her identity. Even if she didn’t believe in the existence of wraiths, something had killed the Seers, and there was a chance it would come for her if word spread that a Seer had survived. As well, human descendants of Ferron the Conqueror’s armies still lived in the South. Loyal to Queen Furie, they blamed Darya for starting the war, and Harrow had always feared they would use her as a chance to seek vengeance for their losses.
She didn’t know what the ramifications of her choice to reveal her identity would be, but soon, it wouldn’t matter anymore anyway.
Loren blanched at the unmistakable sight of her pointed ears. “You’re… But you… What are you?”
The Water rarely expressed itself through any physical display, and tonight was no different, save for the sudden charge blasting through the tent and the mist collecting in the air. Harrow knew her eyes had started to glow, and she could feel her hair lifting in the phantom gusts.
“Get out.”
It was all she needed to say. The words were pitched lower than her normal speaking voice and loaded with power.
Loren turned and fled the tent.
Alone at last, Harrow deflated, power retreating within immediately.
But she wasn’t alone—Raith was there. Raith, whose fragile trust she had betrayed by promising to discipline him for Salizar. The wary look he was giving her was proof enough of that.
Harrow buried her face in her hands. She had, in one night, made a promise to Salizar she couldn’t keep and, consequently, brought about the beginning of the end of her life as she knew it. Malaikah was going to be furious.
Raith rattled the bars of the cage door to get her attention. She glanced up at him, finding a frown creasing his brow.
“Are you okay?” His voice was quiet, as it always was the rare times he used it.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She nearly choked on the words. He was still concerned for her, enough to fight his aversion to speech, even after he thought she’d betrayed him.
Suddenly, making him understand was her top priority. Somehow, in the short time she’d known him, he’d become one of the most important people in her life. The truth of that scared her, but it was too late to turn back now.
She approached his cage. “I’m sorry. I had to say whatever I could to get Salizar to leave you alone. I have no intention of training you for any ridiculous circus show, I swear.”
Raith’s fingers tightened around the bars.
“I’m not going to force you to show your wings, and I don’t care about your other abilities. I promise.”
Raith didn’t move, didn’t even blink, and Harrow’s heart sank. He didn’t believe her. And why should he? Everyone he’d ever met had hurt him in some way, so why should he think Harrow was any different—
His skin suddenly morphed into a brilliant orange.
It was so bright, she lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the dazzling onslaught. Noticing the stubborn set to his chin, it clicked.
A bubble of surprised laughter burst out of her. “Yes, you can even be that color, if that’s what you want. It might help save some lamp oil, it’s so bright.”
