Doran sighed. “Fine. I don’t know what I’ll be able to add, but I’ll help. I’ve bought Levi his daggers now, and he promised to teach me a thing or two.”
Levi grinned, and Naavah Ora smiled. They were both coming with her. They weren’t leaving her. Because it was the right thing to do, not because of who she was to her clan.
“It’d be nice to be the Ceidiree who finally killed the Blood King. I bet it’d pay well.”
“Thank you.”
“Now eat,” Doran said. “We’ve got a long way ahead of us, and if I could die tomorrow because some evil dead souls killed me in my sleep I’d rather eat well one last time.”
Naavah Ora sighed in relief and took some of the sweet cakes she’d seen in the market. The trader had called them pancakes, and judging by Levi’s heaped plate they were good.
Happy as she was that Doran and Levi had decided to stay with her, she was scared. Someone had been powerful enough to overthrow a god—her god. How was she supposed to do what Ithrean had not? She would need a lot more than luck to stop the coming darkness, and she wasn’t convinced her skill was enough.
Our people were immortal. The magic ran strong in their blood, their connection to the land as natural to them as breathing. They built us shrines and erected the most beautiful in the Verdaan forest. All of us shared this temple, because we were one family. We belonged together.
Chapter 32
Levi
Levi shouldered the backpack Doran had given him with trembling hands and made sure his knives were secure on his belt. He felt nauseated. His legs were shaking.
What if Naavah Ora was right? Could his Lord be responsible for the corrupted spirits he’d seen in the forest? Could his Lord want to enslave all spirits and march on their world, as Naavah Ora had suggested? If it was true—and there was an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach that it was—then he had to do something. Like Doran he wasn’t sure what he could do, exactly, but he had to try. Naavah Ora was the one with the useful magic, but he and Doran had some skills too. He just hoped corrupted spirits would get tired of torturing him once they realised Levi couldn’t be broken so easily and fall for Doran’s charm.
It was strange to have a name. Ceallach an Eòlas. A Ceidiree king. It was odd how many people one man had affected, but he was intrigued by it. The Elders hadn’t taught history. Maybe he could ask Naavah Ora and Doran for a real lesson one day.
The day before, Doran had bought him some new clothes. His old clothes from the village had stayed with Naavah Ora’s people, so all he’d had were the ill-fitting clothes Naavah Ora’s grandmother had given him. It felt good to wear something that fit. Something that was his. The weapons belt Doran had purchased with his knives was just the right size, too, and the weight of the daggers on his hip comforted him. He doubted they’d do much good against the dead, but he could defend himself against thieves and bandits. As he’d seen the day before in the market, there was no shortage of those even in broad daylight.
Naavah Ora had left to pack her things. The longer she was gone the more nervous he got. Or was it excitement? Levi was worried about what Naavah Ora had told them, but he was glad to be travelling together again. Their small group felt more complete with Naavah Ora, and she’d be able to help if they got injured; Doran seemed a bit squeamish around blood.
“How are your hands today?” Doran asked as if he’d read Levi’s mind.
“They are fine. I washed them last night.”
“Show me.”
Levi held out his hands. When Doran ran a finger over the cut, he didn’t flinch. The touch burnt and pulsed through the wound, but he was used to worse. Doran’s hands were gentle, not the promise of more pain.
“Levi—” Doran caught himself, and his forehead creased like he regretted what he’d almost said.
Levi wanted to know. “What is it?”
The words failed on Doran’s lips several times before he asked. “How often did they bleed you?”
Levi hadn’t expected that, but he’d pressed Doran to tell him now. He couldn’t very well not answer.
“Three to four times a week.”
Doran paled. “How young were you when they—how did it happen? Did they find you, or did you go to them?”
“I was eight.” Levi shook his head. His pulse raced. He wasn’t ready to talk about that day just yet.
Doran took the hint and changed the subject. “When did they start cutting you?”
“The day after I arrived.” Our Lord is not patient. He does not value laziness.
Doran closed his eyes. When he inhaled, his breath was shaky. His hand closed around Levi’s, and let go again just as quickly. “I’m sorry. That must have hurt.”
“I don’t feel it.”
“Levi—”
Naavah Ora entered their room and raised her eyebrows. “Am I interrupting something?”
Doran hadn’t let go of his hand completely. Two fingers still rested in Levi’s palm, barely noticeable through his skin but comforting nonetheless. Doran pulled back and took the comfort with him.
“Not at all,” Doran said. “We should get going. Are you ready?”
Levi nodded and shrugged. “I didn’t have much to pack.”
“There’s one last stop I’d like to make before we leave Alt Võina,” Doran said. “There’s someone who I think can help us.”
Naavah Ora frowned. She was suspicious of new people, but was that because of her sheltered upbringing or was there another reason?
“Are you saying we don’t need the help?”
“I’m not saying that, but—” Naavah Ora paused. Levi was amazed to see her lost for words. “Why didn’t you bring this up earlier?”
“It didn’t seem important. He’s got a small shop on the outskirts of Alt Võina, not far from here. I was going to catch up with him once we’d gone our separate ways. As I said, it wasn’t important to you before.”
“If you just want to catch up with an old friend…”
“He’ll be an asset. He can do something none of us can.”
Naavah Ora frowned. “I don’t like the way you said shop.”
Levi had noticed it too. Whatever Doran’s friend was selling, it wasn’t common merchandise. “What kind of shop is it?”
“He sells traps, mostly to hunters. Among other things.”
Her frown deepened. “What other things?”
Doran’s brow twitched and he shuffled in his seat. “He creates special traps. Traps that explode when your prey stands on them.”
“And how do you think this can help us? We can’t blow a door into the spirit realm.”
“I’m not suggesting that, but if we find ourselves outnumbered he’d be able to get us out.”
“I can get us out if we’re outnumbered,” Naavah Ora said. Levi was surprised to see her pout.
“We know that,” Levi said, “but you might already have used up your energy from opening the portal, and we might be fighting more than four spirits next time.”
Doran smiled at Levi. “You said yourself they’re being turned into an army. We can only hold off so many. Well-placed explosives could create a distraction to help us escape.”