Page 27 of Tangled Power
The three of them moved toward a more open space while Luc cooked. Carter had the forge fire hot before Rose moved to grab the blades from her saddlebags. Juliette met her as she turned back to the workspace.
“I want your word that you’ll discuss anything you see with me before you share it with the Suden Point,” Juliette said, her voice barely above a whisper.
This was a reasonable request. Juliette wasn’t asking her not to tell. She asked for the chance to understand what Rose thought she saw or felt before the rest of the Compass Points knew about it. Rose just wished Juliette didn’t feel the need to request this. She hoped it would be assumed that they would discuss what Rose saw. Shaking her head, she couldn’t wish things to be different. She needed to put in the work to make them so.
“That’s fair.”
Juliette dipped her chin. “Good.”
The women walked together to the flames Carter tended. His magic sped up Rose’s process. Not having to wait for the heat was a godsend. Rose placed the first dagger in the flame as she told Juliette what was next. “I’ll need you to do something a little flashier with your magic now. But don’t worry if you stop it when you feel my magic starting to mingle with yours. That is normal. I just need yours flaring at the start.”
Rose went about her work, and before long, the scent of sage and citrus hit her nose. Juliette’s small cyclone was now much bigger. It picked up leaves, dirt, and rocks from the meadow before them as it progressed in its circular movement.
Closing her eyes, Rose worked the dagger’s blade. Though short, it would still need to be sharp. She lost herself in the rhythm of smoothing the blade as a spiral of her magic reached for Juliette’s.
Her power felt old. Not aged and rotting like what she’d sensed of Aterra’s. No, Juliette’s had a texture to it, like wrinkles of skin on a human’s face. A nuance the fae never had to deal with. This age wasn’t a weakness, she thought as her magic prodded further, more like sophistication. It spoke to experience and knowledge that could only be gained through trials. Juliette had put in the work for her position.
Rose’s magic tugged on that specific thread. What obstacles had Juliette faced? What had made her such a fearsome Osten Point? She pressed forward with her magic. Determination, perseverance, and justification of any means to achieve her end, these flashes of Juliette flipped through Rose’s mind as her magic went deeper.
Luc’s magic had been like falling through an endless tunnel. Aaron’s had been the wide expanse of a plateau. Juliette’s power led her through a locked door disconnected from any structure. The door opened to reveal a descending set of stairs. It wasn’t an endless descent like Luc’s. She went down them, feeling a flash and a change. It was now cold and a little damp, but Juliette’s wind blew past Rose, urging her forward to the paths carved into stone. A cave network.
Instinctively, Rose knew the paths may differ, but they all led to the same place. The Osten fae. They were at the root of this. The Osten needed Juliette. And she did everything to protect them. It drove everything Juliette did. It was different from Luc’s care for his court. Different from trying to make herself available and approachable to them. It felt tense and weighty. It was a much tighter bond—a bond bound in blood.
A flash of pain surfaced at her thought. Images flickered before her as her magic searched the cave. Wind sent her forward to an opening at the end of the path—the room all paths connected to. Blood welled on the light brown skin. Juliette’s hand gripping into a fist as she spoke words Rose couldn’t make out. Drops of deep red falling onto the stone. A strong, penetrating voice echoed in the room.
Where were they? What was she seeing? Rose shook herself free of the sensory overload. What it was didn’t matter for the moment. She was forging a blade for Juliette, and whatever this was, it was what she needed.
Knowing and understanding were different. She only had to know to make the blade. This was the center of the storm. It was the heart of Juliette’s power and what she did to take care of the Osten fae. Rose sank into the feeling she found in the cave as she pulled her magic back and focused it on the weapon she worked.
Arie’s comment made her conscious of it—her wind wrapping around her weapons as she worked them. She leaned into that now. Using her wind as she forged the Osten Point’s weapon was fitting.
Reaching for the second dagger, Rose continued to spin her magic around it, focusing on Juliette’s blood-deep devotion to the Osten fae as she plunged it into the heat. She created a cyclone of her own wind and weapons master magic, whipping the fire and ash of the forge as she raised and lowered her hammer to the dagger. She didn’t overthink the image at the core of Juliette’s magic—or what the Osten Point’s feelings meant. She didn’t need the details to spur the feelings and essence into shape.
The magic may not require it, but the weapons master was undoubtedly intrigued. Her curiosity couldn’t be a distraction now. The cold calculation of Juliette’s blood falling to stone.Rose’s mind circled the image as she worked. Juliette paid the price—the Osten fae were worth the cost.
Emerging from her frenzy, she heard Luc speaking softly behind her. “The food is ready. How long has she been like that?”
The fire was still hot as she opened her eyes. She wiped a dirty arm across her brow and used her wind to cool the dagger. “I think I’m done,” Rose said. The blade gleamed in the firelight. The sun had set again during her work.
She flipped the daggers simultaneously, grabbing the sharp blades in her fists with expert ease. Unsure what overcame her, she bowed slightly as she presented them. “For you, Lady Osten.”
Juliette’s lips curved into a smile as her fingers slid around the hilts. Rose’s magic, still awake and tuned to the Osten Point before her, could feel the rightness of the warrior with the daggers. There was a sparkle in Juliette’s eye as she raised the blades to an attack position, settling into how they worked with her natural fighting style. “You’ve outdone yourself, Rose.”
Rose was exhausted, but she cocked her hip and smiled anyway. “I’m well aware.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Activity emanated from the village they approached. A sigh of relief slipped from Rose’s lips—the mist had not been here. Drained from her work on Juliette’s daggers the previous night, she was asleep before Luc returned from cleaning up the evening meal. It had not been a restful sleep. Her body clenched, waiting for a warning on the wind she could do nothing about.
Her mind wouldn’t stop working over all the things she had to do, all the questions she had yet to answer. The compass continued to lead them after Aterra, but would combined wind magic be enough to stop a god? Unlikely. Was she the only one worried? She resolved to make time today to talk to Luc about it.
The sun hadn’t yet set, and they were already at the village. They would have rooms in an inn tonight. She breathed easier, observing the villagers going about their day around them as they walked their horses into the communal stable. The market was winding down. Wooden booths and stalls lined the city square, offering goods that reminded her of Bury.
It was odd. The market didn’t make use of the entire square. Patrons and vendors gave a wide berth to a formation in the center. She glanced at the others as they handed off their horsesto be groomed and fed. No bewilderment graced their features. There was no hood for an old well or anything she could see. Nor any specific artwork or statue. Whether the Compass Points found it interesting or not, she wanted to investigate. It was so different from the clumsily assembled aisles at Lake of the Gods crowding the entire square.
“Where are we?” Rose whispered to the others. She wasn’t as familiar with the southern geography of the continent as she would have liked. Juliette’s and Carter’s gazes both shifted to Luc. Rose took note since they rarely deferred to him for anything.
“Loch,” he replied. His voice was flat and emotionless, but his eyes told a different story. They willed her to understand something. She searched the square again, wondering what he silently desired her to know. Her head shook slowly as she turned back to him.
