Page 143 of Untempered
“Yes.” It was the only answer, really. “I read that fruit was a hot commodity, so the orchards were planted by Barloc’s son. The people were worried because trees hide many foes, but they were assured that there would be peace, and they’d prosper more with fruit harvests than common vegetables.”
He made a thoughtful noise, holding me close. “They weren’t wrong.”
“Was itpeace,though?” I asked him, feeling like I was a million years old.
He shrugged. “For some, it would’ve been. Few common folk care who wears the crown. If they’ve got bread in their bellies today, and they know it’ll be there tomorrow, things are well enough.”
I knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that people’s definition ofpeacewas irritatingly simplistic. I could be silent and not be at peace—and frequently was. “It’s either blood magic, or it’s a type we don’t know of.”
“Could be faded after all these years,” he said softly.
I shifted, but I couldn’t see him properly without craning my head. Even as I moved, he slipped his arm under mine, and it was perhaps the best pillow I’d ever put my head on. “Do Blood Oaths fade?”
“Not as far as I know. But that’s one lifetime. We’re talking a half-dozen or more. And it’s sustained by my life.”
Blood magic was somessy.“It never made sense to me, needing to kill people to fuel your spells.”
“I’m not dead,” he said reasonably. “It doesn’t all burn through lifeforce.”
I turned the idea around in my mind. “Have you seen much of it in your travels?” It was strictly controlled here. What I knew was fragments of a picture I couldn’t fathom.
“Fortunately not.” He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. I suspect whatever stopped that arrow the other day is the same thing that stopped the wave, ifeitherthing ever happened.”
“They happened.”
He nodded. “I trust you. I’m not sure what way’s up right now. I don’t know that I want to, either.”
My heart ached. I found his hand and covered it with my own. But there was little I could do to make him feel better, really.
It wasn’t an unfair assumption, which is why it’d been mine, earlier. But I’d cut my hand, and it hadn’t triggered the stone in any meaningful fashion.
“We could test it again,” I said slowly. “I had a cut on my arm that day. It was minor, but I brushed up against the stone. I could blood it, then have you shoot at me.”
He clicked his tongue. “My blood’d boil if I did it right. And the arrow would probably go wide and be a useless test. I never did spend enough time practicing the bow. You could shoot at me.”
The thought of it failing and leaving him with an arrow lodgedanywheremade panic flash through me. “No.”
“I’ve a shield,” he said mildly.
“Good.” I was quietly confident that wouldn’t matter. The thought of the man who’d stood in the shadow of curtains, lining Chay up in the rain, waiting for his shot, made me achingly cold. I snuggled back into him. “We could get more blood.”
“I could certainly fetch a few people I’d volunteer for that,” he agreed. “And why not, if we’re all doomed?”
I wasn’t sure if he was serious, so I didn’t respond to that. I doubted sacrifice was the key. It didn’t feel like it’d fit. Lining people up, cutting throats, when you had a giant wave bearing down on you? Too many things could go wrong. A sensible system would be sustainable. And cutting someone’s throat didn’t involve fire. The monolith had been burned. There was fire involved, somehow.
“I’m sorry I said that,” he told me, the words full of sorrow.
“Said what?” I shook my head. “Worry not.” They would’ve kept the area stocked with burnables, I was sure of it. And that would be why drainage didn’t include that park. They wouldn’t want to extinguish them while they burned. And really, if they were willing to sacrificeanyone,that wouldn’t be the slowest thing to accomplish, I supposed. But a person took only a short time to bleed out. I’d done it. The memory made my skin crawl. It had felt like an eon but had only been a few moments. Burning blood didn’t seem efficient.
Excitement rushed through me. What made sense wasn’t to burnblood—it was to burnthe whole body.
“Chay,” I said, trying to contain the spurt of hope. “What if it’s fueled not by life, but by death? Bone, not blood?”
“Bone magic?” he asked me. “A lesser man than I would make a joke of that, my lady. Tell me more before I decide if I’m a lesser man today.”
Laughter bubbled in me. I sat up, searching for my layers. “Ifit’s blood magic, andifit uses fire, wouldn’t it make sense to burn bodies?”
He watched me, no longer laughing. “I know we’re in a dire situation, Audrey, but I’m not comfortable setting someone alight. At least, not anyone I can access today.”
