“Here?” he asked, cupping my knee.
His other hand found my other knee, his thumbs digging in beneath the knee cap. It was painful, and I winced, my mouth hovering over his. The sting of my burn surged, fighting with the pain of his touch. I was confused. I shook my head, my lips brushing his. He growled out a breath, his head tipping forward, his lips crushing to mine as I felt a horrible, tearing pain shoot through my left kneecap.
Suddenly, I was yanked away, my back slamming against a tree. I slumped down, the heat fading out of me, my body curling in on itself.
“Enough games for tonight,” Vale said darkly, the sound of a scuffle breaking out in the clearing—the clearing I was no longer in. They were now several feet from me.
I could hear Fjor and Helki grunting and swearing at each other, large forms stumbling around like bears in the woods, crashing through the underbrush, teeth snapping and claws raking. It took far too long for my mind to clear. The pain in my knee had been so sudden and intense, but when I touched it now, it was only an ache, the muscles tender.
He almost dislocated my knee. I was sure of it.
“What the f—” I began to mutter, but then I heard boots beside me, and I cringed back, holding my hands up, hoping to keep whoever it was back.
“Calm down.” Vale gathered me up, ignoring my attempts to batter him away. “Lavenia.”
I stilled at the sound of my name, realising that he was carrying me away from the sound of Fjor and Helki fighting.
“Is it broken?” he asked.
I shook my head. Where was my voice? I was too shocked, too ashamed, too confused to speak. Vale had held me over the edge of a cliff only the day before, contemplating murdering me, and now he was—
“Where are you taking me?” I quickly asked, suddenly full of panic.
“Somewhere safe.” There was a laugh somewhere in his voice, buried deep. “It’s part of our deal. You would have suffered extreme bodily harm if you had been left there.”
“Oh, that’s the line, is it?” I found myself responding. “Extreme bodily harm.”
He didn’t rise to the bait. Vale didn’t rise to anything. He carried me until we couldn’t hear the others anymore, and then he set me down.
“Sleep,” he ordered, still standing beside me.
I almost rolled my eyes at the command, because there was no way I was falling asleep after everything that had just happened. We hadn’t gone that far from the others. If Vale really thought I was in danger of “extreme bodily harm,” then what was stopping Helki from fighting off the others and walking the few minutes it would take to find me?
I even opened my mouth to say as much, but then the mark on my face burned. The mark Vale used to control me, to bend me to his will. I started to swear instead, but my eyes were drooping, and only a muddled sound slipped from my lips, sleeping taking over me.
The next morning, I woke in a panic, drowning in darkness, a heavy cover wrapped around my head—one that I couldn’t claw free. It took too long to remember my blindness, and the blindfold. My hands fell slack by my sides, my fingers spreading out against the tangled, long grass at the base of the tree where I lay.
This isn’t where I fell asleep.
“We’ve made up a day,” Vidrol said, a short distance away. “It was much faster carrying her. Maybe we should keep her asleep the whole time?”
“That defeats the purpose,” Fjor said dryly. “This is working—”
“It’s working for you,” Helki argued. “She hates me.”
“You did try to break her leg,” Fjor pointed out.
“Because she kissed—”
“You kissed her, beast.” Vale was using my nickname for Helki, taunting him. “We all saw it.”
“Maybe that’s the problem. You’re seeing too much,” Helki threatened, and I heard the sound of steel unsheathing.
Vale laughed. Vidrol joined in. Even Andel snickered.
I waited for it to escalate, but to my surprise, Helki only pushed his sword away again.
“I vote we keep her asleep. Carry her there and wake her up at the tree. Make her choose before she walks through.”
I spread my fingers out further, the scent of the grass teasing my nose. I could smell flower buds, wrapped tightly, unwilling to bloom. The wind whistled through the grass, blowing it against my face, teasing the silk collar of my vest, creeping beneath the material to settle against my skin.
What can be done can be undone, a whisper sounded, too close and too far.
Ein.
My hands curled into fists, the wind tapping against me like fingers walking across my skin, playful and teasing. I pulled in a deep breath, letting it fill me, letting the scent settle into me.
Ein wanted me to reverse something—but what?
Could I reverse the Skayld marks, rejecting the wishes of the masters?
Could I reverse my blindness?
I rolled to the side, facing away from the voices still arguing a short distance away, bringing my fingers up to the blindfold.
“I vote we keep her awake,” Vidrol was saying. “She likes me well enough.”
“Does she?” Andel asked. “She doesn’t blush around you or ask you personal questions. She has no desire to meet your family or friends. She hasn’t enquired about your finances—”
“In the name of Ledenaether,” Fjor sighed. “What are you on about now, Andel?”
I racked my brain for the incantation Fjor had used on the blindfold, and then I whispered it into the grass.
“Onye.” Nothing happened. Not that I expected it to.
“I had a study carried out in the Obelisk,” Andel said. “The quantitative results proved, without a doubt, that these were the qualities shown by women who wish to attach themselves to men.”
“Onye,” I repeated softly, the word whipped up by the wind, gobbled down like I hadn’t even spoken it. It was the wrong word.
I grappled for its true meaning, repeating it over and over in a whisper that soon became part of the wind—the only true sign of life in the strange, suspended midworld. I turned it over my tongue, dissected and reassembled it. I examined each letter, tasted its power, all the while touching my blindfold, feeling its energy.
I couldn’t arrive at a meaning—not until I rearranged the letters so that they read backwards. Eyno. Sight. A soft gasp slipped from me, but the masters were still arguing.
“I don’t have any family or friends,” Vidrol had snapped. “And everyone this side of the Sea of Storms can see the state of my finances. I’m the damned King of Fyrio.”
“Eyno,” I whispered, feeling the energy weep from the blindfold, to my fingers.
I felt a strange pop inside my chest, like a band pulling tight and snapping back into place, or a bubble of air growing too large and bursting. I flinched, even as light flooded back to my senses. My breath halted. I waited for the masters to notice, but they were still talking. I rubbed a hand against my chest, trying to reach the sudden sharpness. My eyelids drooped, exhaustion hooking into the base of my neck and weighing me down.
It had almost drained me, overpowering one of Fjor’s incantations—one that had barely cost him half a breath.
I tried not to think about that.
I turned in the grass, able to make out the shadows and shapes, the trees that I needed to crawl around—the masters, whose shapes soon disappeared, allowing me to stand and continue on shaky feet. After a few minutes, I picked up my speed. It wasn’t possible to tear through the fabric of this world, which meant they needed to follow me on foot. I remembered what they had said about Calder shielding himself from them, and I rubbed at my chest again. If I wanted to truly stay hidden from them, I would have to refrain from any further incantations—but it didn’t matter when they already knew the direction I was travelling in. I would just have to be faster.