19. Regent
REGENT
Unwavering slaughter. The dark magic that consumed her would make the likes of Felia proud. Even then, it doesn’t explain her ability to take control of the beasts. Much like the soldiers who came for her shouldn’t have been able to control them without a contract, either.
I had no choice but to kill the beasts, something I loathe doing.
However, in their frenzied state, all because of her, they would’ve become a calamity.
They would’ve crawled from the jungle and crept into nearby villages.
I don’t like humans or greers, but no one should be faced with that bloodthirsty fear, especially because of the woman who’s passed out in front of me.
Esther’s red hair cascades around her face, the loose braid under her.
She almost looks peaceful as she sleeps, and I know the moment she wakes, it’ll quickly drop from her expression.
I’m as still as the rock I’m perched on, my knuckles turning white as they bundle into fists.
I think about the sensation of her magic somehow merging with mine. I’ve never felt anything like it.
I thought she was a weak little greer, but that was all a front. Or whatever deal she struck in Lake Mahoori birthed a mutant.
Reene stomps impatiently. It took me some time to find her, especially after she bolted because of Esther’s erratic magic.
Whatever this greer is, she’s drawing a lot of attention. A criminal, they called her, but the way she fights suggests she’s military trained.
What kind of fugitive is worth crossing seas for, especially when it can start a political war if they’re crossing over uninvited?
An assassin. Soldiers on foot. And a valther reporting back to fuck knows who. The moment the men were killed, it took to the sky, most likely reporting back to its master.
Two things are certain: no greer alive should be able to connect with my magic and survive it. Nor should they be able to command a beast without a contract in place.
My magic subdues the tiny grains that were working on the cut on her arm, leaving barely a blemish.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had to use healing magic on someone else, least of all a little greer thief who tried to steal it in the first place.
I lean over, gathering the small cloth I placed there, her blood partially soaked up.
I pocket it with a new intention in mind.
We have a week until the Volmere auctions, but the sooner that time closes in around us, the more uncertain I become.
The auctions change location every time and are only hosted yearly.
Acquiring the location and invitation is difficult because of great security lengths, so authorities aren’t involved.
A week has never felt so far away.
But failing is not an option.
“Where did you get this?” I’d asked the bandit’s leader regarding the talisman at his throat. I was impatient for his answer.
“Fuck, man, you have to save me,” he’d whimpered as he glared at his bleeding wrist, saliva spitting from his mouth.
“I will after you tell me what I need to know.”
“The village to the north, only half a day from here. They don’t have much, and you have to venture through the Passage of Child to reach it.”
Fuck. Not ideal.
There’s no way we were going to walk through it at night, which means we’ll have to wait for the new day, losing more time. The Passage of Child is a challenge to pass, even for me. Fortunately, it’s Felia-blessed beasts aren’t so inclined to showing themselves during the day.
“The name of the man who made these for you?”
“F-F—” The man is barely conscious as I shake him awake. “Feodore Thelme.”
Fuck me, my luck couldn’t be any worse. If the talismans weren’t made specifically for the individual, I’d just steal his.
Wind on the leaves whisper, advising of dark beasts and greers forthcoming.
They whispered in warning, and that was when I glanced up at Esther.
In all her glory, dancing through the men who never stood a fucking chance.
But it was not so much her I worried about.
It was the dark beasts that were on their way.
“Fall back!” I’d yelled out to Esther as I threw the bandit to the ground with no intention of healing him. Even if I could help with amputation, I would not waste my magic on the likes of him.
I think of the cowering girl who was there today. She was later caught in the crossfire, not that I would ever tell Esther.
I think back to the bloodlust in Esther’s gaze, the bright green of her eyes blazing, unworldly. I know that look well in Felia-blessed greers who lose themselves in the chaos. She’d only just begun her death dance, and that was what made her so dangerous.
But aren’t all greers dangerous in their own way?
Laughter haunts me, and a greer with big blue eyes springs to the forefront of my mind. I immediately close my eyes, shoving her face away with such revolt, my insides twist.
“To think you still haunt me, Katarina,” I curse her name out loud. Something I haven’t done for a long time.
“Esther,” the redheaded greer whispers in her sleep. “My name is Esther.” Her voice sounds younger—more innocent. “And I shall call you Blaze.”
My jaw clenches, irritated that she even dreams of him.
Esther’s eyes spring open, and she explodes into action. I catch her wrist before she can plunge her assassin’s blade into my throat.
“I thought we were done with these attempted murder games, little greer?”
Her eyes seem to snap to attention as if she’s still waking from her dream. Then all the rage I expected to see comes to fruition. She doubles down on the handle with her other hand, straining against my strength as I hold her wrist in place.
“You hit me in the back of the head!”
I bet her head is fucking pounding right now.
She releases the blade and catches it with her other hand, aiming for my ribs. My vines snap her blade into the air, grabbing her by both wrists as I dust myself off to stand.
“Cute how you still try. I thought we’d come such a long way,” I say, walking up to her as she fights against the restraints. “Now tell me when you’re calm.”
“I am calm,” she spits.
My eyebrows shoot up. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, little greer, but you were certainly hellbent on getting us killed.”
Her face twists, but I can sense the anger slowly depleting out of her, noticeably dulling, likely because of that migraine I suspect she has. That and the animalistic side of her magic seems to be reeling in its senses.
I’ve never encountered a greer like the one before me.
Feral but refined like a blade. Certainly not with control over her magic.
I relinquish control of my vines, and she drops to the ground, catching herself before she hits hard on her knees.
“What happened out there?” I demand, and find myself pacing.
“Nothing, I—”
“Your magic connected with mine. Do not pretend like that did not happen. What is it? A curse? Did you steal something? Kill someone for power?” Though she holds no randor blade.
“What is inside of you?” She looks up through those thick eyelashes, expressing a hurt I don’t completely understand.
“Is this somehow connected with whatever happened in the bathing house?” I further question.
This thing between us… Does that have something to do with it?
Her forehead furrows. “You think we have some magical connection because you finger fucked me?”
I shift uneasily, a heat rising at the back of my neck. “Well, no, I just…” Words seem to die on my lips as I try to immediately shove the memories away. Flashes of her hungry little cunt rubbing against me, and her small whimpers and pleas, grabbing hold of me more than they should.
Grimace materializes from her throat, a little shadow at first before he scampers up her shoulder and, in a language I still don’t understand, gestures for me to kindly fuck off before puking up a dead fish on my leather boot.
My face twists, and I step back, offended by the smell.
Even Esther gags as she takes a few steps back, the distance growing wider between us.
“What do your markings mean?” she demands. “You don’t chant when you use magic, so I’m not the only peculiar one here.”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“Then don’t ask me for my secrets if you are not willing to offer your own! I didn’t ask for your help back there! You didn’t have to fight for me or play hero.”
In three fast strides, I loom over her. “Make no mistake, little greer, I am not your hero. What happened back there was slaughter, by your hands. And you dare question my sanity and damnation before facing your own?”
Esther’s bottom lip quivers, and an unsettling shift stirs within me. I want to hold her and assure her it’ll be okay, but even I can’t pretend that I’m willing to face her monsters for or with her because I won’t.
I take a step back, reminding myself that this is just business.
No matter who she is or what her curse or value is, the sooner I’m done with her, the better.
The object I require from the Volmere auctions is all I need to focus on.
I forcefully shove that reminder to the forefront, no longer allowing myself to see the greer in front of me—who makes my inner beast curious—as a person, but a thing.
“There’s a nearby stream. Wash away the blood on your hands and clothes. We travel again at dawn.”
I step away, doing everything I can to relinquish myself from this magnetizing pull she has over me.
This woman is dangerous.
“What happened to the woman?” she asks over my shoulder.
My jaw ticks, and I find myself unable to look her in the eye as I say, “I dropped her off at a nearby village,” before I continue walking away.