Page 21 of Thorn Season
6
Keil moved painfully slowly, sauntering like a predator who’d finished his hunt and was now enjoying the meal. He took several turns to confuse me, but it wasn’t necessary. My thoughts revolved grimly around one scenario: whipping my specter against the back of his head.
For now, I would play the helpless Wholeborn noblewoman and await rescue. But what if Keil had demanded something Father couldn’t give? What if they hurt him as they’d hurt Garret? I had to protect him, even though I couldn’t tell how powerful Keil’s specter was—or how powerfulminewas in comparison.
Even though the idea of fighting another Wielder hollowed my stomach.
The rhythmic scrape of metal on metal drifted over our footfalls, and I paused outside another concave room. The woman, Osana, sharpened a dagger over a tabletop of weapons, her blade humming across the honing steel.
“Give it a rest,” said the blond man, lounging in a chair. He was using a throwing knife to peel an apple in one long spiral. “You could fillet a sea serpent with that blade.”
“At least I’m being productive whileyouhave a picnic.”
“You should join me, unless you want to be embarrassed at the exchange. Nothing intimidating about a growling belly.”
Osana gave him a rude gesture and tossed her weapon to the table.
Another dagger floated to take its place.
I heard a soft gasp—then realized it had come from me. My hand drifted across my waist. In the parlor, I’d felt a curling grasp as the nightmilk had taken hold... not an arm. The tendril of a specter.
It wasn’t just Keil. They wereallWielders.
“Show-off,” the blond man muttered.
A dagger shot at him like a dart. He caught the handle and twisted his wrist, slashing Osana’s invisible hold. She hissed, recoiling. But she would recover quickly. Permanently tethered to their Wielders, specters coalesced after injury. There was only one way to amputate a specter from its Wielder:
The Wielder had to die.
According to old texts, all power began its life cycle in spectral form—born with the Wielder whose body housed it. But while Wielders brought power into the world, they didn’t take it out with them. After a Wielder’s death, the specter sloughed from the body like a snakeskin and remained within the world as a raw, intangible power—the exact power that had once been harnessed by the ancient Spellmakers.
My old tutor—a miserable woman who’d considered me a spoiled Wholeborn heiress—had therefore claimed that Wholeborn spirits passed happily to the next realm while Wielder spirits were forever chained here by their lingering specters.
When I’d sobbed to Father, fearing for my mother’s chained spirit, he’d permanently dismissed the tutor. And though his face had grown weary with grief, he’d swallowed his pain to ease mine.
Taking my little hands, he’d reassured me that my mother was atpeace, but that a part of her—the echo of power that had once been her specter—would always linger in this realm beside me.Watching over us, he’d said.
More curious than comforted, I’d enlisted Tari to come “digging” for molted specters with a garden fork. I’d used my specter to lift the fork by its sharp tines, and the steel had sliced ribbons through my spectral muscle like flesh.
I knew from experience: The injurieshurt.
Now the blond man groaned, reaching down. “You made me drop my apple.” He palmed the fruit, then began lifting his mask as if to blow off the dirt.
Keil cleared his throat, and I jolted. I hadn’t felt him come up behind me, so close that I could smell the leather of his armor. He watched me curiously, his strong jaw tilted to catch the torchlight. I’d seen the same look on Verenian clockmakers before they dismantled a timepiece to study its parts.
Anoopssound returned my focus to the blond man, whose hand hovered over his mask.
But Osana had gone stiff, her eyes trained on me. And despite the power she’d displayed, I returned her glare before continuing ahead.
The man’s sharp whisper trailed after us. “Don’t give her that look. You’ll scare her.”
“Did she look scared to you?” Osana growled, and their voices faded from earshot.
My heart raced as we continued down the passage, panic and amazement battling for the greatest share of my agitation.FiveWielders. Four more than I’d imagined having to fight two minutes ago... but also four more than I’d imagined meeting in my lifetime.
How had they kept hidden, especially clustered together? Were theremoreof them?
A pulse-skip brought me to my senses. I’d better hope there weren’t more of them. This group had kidnapped me, hadhurtGarret. They were criminals first and Wielders second.
