Page 92 of Jeweler to the Blessed
He glanced at me. His head tilted in question. “What?”
“You,” I said. “You can get us out, can’t you?”
I still didn’t know where he kept his adamas. My curiosity didn’t matter, though. It was hidden somewhere, even if the reason why he did so eluded me.
The line of his lips flattened. He looked toward the tunnel ceiling like he was ready to curse another set of gods. When his gaze returned to mine, he nodded slowly, like this was the last topic he’d expected.
I gestured toward the rocks. “Do you have enough anger stored to get us out of here?”
I’d never seen him take. Who knew what emotions he had stored for magic? I hoped he had some because I couldn’t offer to help him replenish. My stomach knotted as I considered the implications of my thoughts.
Hart had to have stolen anger. That’s what would fuel his magic to get us out of here. Stolen emotion. Like any other Blessed.
He surveyed me again, and I wondered if he saw what my mind had only just unlocked.
“You don’t like the Blessed,” he said. It was almost like he spoke to himself as he continued. “I knew it conceptually, but I didn’t understand it viscerally until that look you gave me in the alley. When you realized you’d be within my grasp when you passed.”
I distinctly remembered the way he had flinched then—like he’d been slapped with understanding.
My brow furrowed. Of course I didn’t like the Blessed. They took without remorse, thinking only of themselves, their vanity, and their power. Did Hart do that? I was sure I hadn’t looked at him like that in a long time. And I didn’t know how that made me feel.
I had always known Hart was Blessed—all guards were.Just because I hadn’t seen him take didn’t mean it didn’t happen.
I thought of Alysa and her people—their stolen adamas and how she said they used it. Maybe Hart had similar rules? His looks guaranteed he wouldn’t have difficulty finding willing partners.
But that wasn’t right either.Serenahad said at the Cornucopia that he didn’t take from any of those who offered themselves.Her words had given me a perverse pleasure at the time. Now, I needed to understand: How did he take if it wasn’t from those willing at Forest’s Edge?
“Do you have the magic?” I asked again.
He let the hesitation show on his face. “I have the magic, Chaos.”
Alaric had taught me never to shy away from tough questions. I voiced the one I didn’t want to ask. “Where did you get it? Was the participant willing?”
His lips pressed together. The hesitation wasn’t ideal.
“Talk to me.”
I’d say it was guilt that lined his features, but I couldn’t tell if I was only seeing what I wanted to see. Alysa had thought he’d accepted the gem but didn’t use it. His response indicated he did, and I might not want to know the details.
Hart’s brow furrowed. “I’m not a good man, Chaos. I’ve done plenty I regret and even more that I don’t.”
I wasn’t sure how we’d ended up having this conversation trapped in the mines, but there we were. “That’s not an answer. You could only take from those willing.”
“I can’t provide the reassurance you seek. If you’re in danger, I won’t care. I’ll take anything to protect you. The only comfort I can offer is, you’re safe with me.”
It sounded like a vow, one I wasn’t sure I understood.
He’d made the choice and accepted the power of the Blessed. Once he had it, it made sense he’d use it.
“If it’s to protect me, you should take from me?—”
I shook my head. My words were foolish—I asked for the impossible. My immunity meant someone else was paying the price of my protection. Scarier still, I wasn’t sure this changed how I felt about Hart.
How I felt about Hart wasn’t something I wanted to examine at this precise moment. I shoved that thought down and focused on something more tactical. “Use the magic.”
He nodded and turned to the pile of rubble that blocked us from the way out.
Many of the rocks were too large for me to lift, but I tossed aside a few to feel like I was doing something productive. Hart didn’t need it. He moved the rest like they were nothing more than pebbles.
