Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
Erinna reeked of salt and sweat when she returned to camp. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and she had nothing to show for her efforts except cuts, bruises, and splinters.
Fires crackled in makeshift pits, casting jagged shadows across the rocky walls and crumbling old shelters. Boisterous dinner conversations and quarrels competed with the singing crickets. The smell of roasted meat and vegetables filtered from Rem’s cooking fires, but Erinna wasn’t hungry.
She kept to the outskirts, ducking past a cluster of pirates sharpening their blades. Erinna tried not to stay too long in their glares. It was best to avoid anyone who was looking for a brawl. They were a rowdy bunch, yet nothing they’d done seemed particularly cruel.
Questionable, sure.
But not cruel.
A familiar shape flashed in her periphery, and Erinna came to a sudden halt. She rubbed her eyes. Surely her vision was mistaken.
Afton, the Minor Apprentice, was sitting on a log, slumped over a book, an empty plate littered with crumbs resting at his feet.
She had seen him once before, briefly. It was hard to forget the face of someone so esteemed across the nation.
There were two apprentices that Chancellor Iprix Hagan had trained—Haru Tyril and Afton Darkwood. Many spoke highly of Haru; some tolerated Afton.
Both were nothing more than an extension of King Mycelar’s powerful reach.
Wasn’t he supposed to be kidnapped? Damien was suffering sleepless nights while Afton was here, parading with pirates.
As if sensing her stare, the mage peeled his attention away from the book and locked his emerald gaze with hers. A half smile pulled at his lips, and he cocked his head in amusement.
“Find something you like?”
She should fear him, but fury and frustration won over any level of self-preservation.
“You,” Erinna hissed, her voice slicing through campsite murmur with vitriol.
How many aberrants had he condemned to servitude?
She thought of Inez. Thought of how she would feel being stuck on the same island as a man who would condemn her for simply being alive.
The Minor Apprentice gently placed the book on his seat as he stood. He eyed her from head to toe, an assessment, and ran his hand through tawny, tousled hair, his expression frustratingly calm. “Yes?” It came out more as a sigh than a question.
“What in all the hells are you doing here?” she demanded, fists clenched at her side as she neared.
Her ire only seemed to amuse him. Afton’s smile widened, and he dug his hands into his pockets. Everything about him seemed relaxed—he had forgone academy robes for a simple shirt and pants, no sign of academy branding on his person.
“I could ask you the same question. Yarrow, right? Does your esteemed father know about your dealings with pirates?”
Erinna faltered, finally recognizing the utility of her buried anxiety. It reminded her she still had things to lose. “How do you know who I am?” It was never a good sign when someone like Afton knew your name—not when you spent your life trying to live under the radar and avoid recognition.
“Who doesn’t know about the druid Kenneth Yarrow and his dud daughter?” he sneered.
Talent buzzed beneath her skin in response to the insult, but she pushed it away. She would worry about her magical re-awakening later. “Do they know Iprix’s pet project is among them?” Erinna spat back. She latched onto her hatred like a lifeline, using it to distract her from gnawing distress.
Afton shrugged. “They know. We have a mutually beneficial relationship.”
That caught Erinna by surprise. From what she knew, the academy didn’t take kindly to pirates, and Afton’s presence on the island wasn’t adding up.
She was missing something. Still, she couldn’t stop her resentful tongue.
“So you decided to slum it here while the rest of the nation is preparing for your mentor’s funeral rights? ”
“And what about you? Were you just so taken by Kane’s roguishly good looks and wanted to be swept away on some adventure?” Afton shot back.
Erinna’s face flushed red, but she was running out of retorts and, most importantly, out of energy. “Well, a shame they took the wrong apprentice? If they wanted a useful mage, they would have chosen Haru.”
A dark anger morphed his features. “I don’t care what you heard, nor do I give a shit what opinions you have of me, but let me offer you a bit of advice, Yarrow. Don’t cling so hard to assumptions. They tend to blind you from the truth.”
The hairs on her arms stood on end. Maybe she pushed him too far. Her hand went instinctively to her wrist and the precious cord of protection. Cool. Unperturbed. Safe.
Afton’s gaze darted to the adornment, and his lips twitched into a half-sneer. “Leaving someone behind, are we? That’s well-crafted arcanum. Expert level abjuration.”
Erinna glared, and her Talent prickled once again, licking at the edges of her skin, asking to be released. “Maybe you should heed your own advice, Darkwood.”
It was almost too quick, but Erinna caught it. The flicker of wariness across his eyes. Good.
Erinna turned on her heels, hoping to put as much distance between them as possible. If she didn’t get away from him soon, she would learn firsthand how difficult it was to wallop a Chancellor’s apprentice. And she knew better than to think she’d win. But one good punch would be very cathartic.
Erinna returned to her small room, legs heavy with fatigue while her mind replayed her confrontation with Afton.
She still hated him; that wouldn’t change anytime soon, but maybe he had a point about assumptions. Everyone on the island was keeping secrets—gods knew she had plenty herself.
Maybe it was worth considering why Afton was there, why he turned to Kane instead of the academy, which could offer immeasurable resources. For whatever reason, that still unnerved her.
She brushed thoughts of him away, kicking off her boots and slinking to her side of the room. Candlelight wrapped the space in a calm amber glow; the flames guttered from the draft as she walked by.
On the opposite end, Inez sat cross-legged on her mattress, strands of light blonde hair escaping from a lopsided bun. Light glinted off metal as she drove a needle through fabric—a shirt that was far too large for her delicate frame.
Erinna’s brow furrowed as she stripped away her sweaty clothes and pulled on a nightdress. She was fairly certain that particular shirt was not among the ill-fitting collection they were both given on their first miserable day at camp.
“It’s Lila’s,” whispered Inez, not looking up from her work. That certainly explained the size. And the number of rips. But the way Inez had sensed her unspoken question was…unnerving. If Erinna hadn’t already known Inez was a diviner, she would think the young woman was some sort of mentalist.
“I see.” Erinna chewed on her bottom lip as she watched Inez’s methodical stitching.
She should tell Inez that Afton was on the island with them, warn her about the chances of crossing paths with the mage, but Inez seemed so peaceful, and Erinna was suddenly reluctant to shatter any level of contentment the girl had found.
“I think you should know,” Erinna finally said. “The Minor Apprentice is here.”
Inez paused mid-stitch and finally turned to face Erinna, her face a mask of stoicism. “I know.”
“Oh. Well, if you need, I can find a way to—”
“It’s fine.” She shrugged. “He wasn’t the one who caught me.” Inez returned to her sewing with the kind of finality that meant the subject was not up for further discussion.
Erinna could kick herself. Had she just made a complete fool of herself? First with Afton, now with Inez; she wanted to sink into the floorboards.
Instead, Erinna sighed and reached for her pack before settling into her mattress, desperate for a distraction. The contents were somehow still damp from yesterday’s near-drowning experience, and Erinna inwardly cringed as her fingers found a moist leather journal and pulled it out.
The leather was warped, but the pages seemed miraculously intact, albeit curled and crinkled beyond repair. It was her father’s notebook—one she’d seen him use countless times before. Erinna cracked it open and rifled through the first few pages.
Tears stung her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks as she read. Inked on the pages were letters to her mother, written after the wreck had taken her life. Kenneth spoke with pride at how well their daughter was growing up, how Erinna reminded him so much of her.
It was too much.
Erinna quickly closed the book, ready to shove it back in her bag before a half-ripped piece of parchment slipped from somewhere between the pages and settled into her lap. She brought the slip close to her face, scanning the faded ink.
Erinna’s stomach bottomed out. The paper contained one symbol, drawn in Madds’s familiar handwriting.
An open eye with a rising sun where the pupil should be.
The mark of the Watchful Eye; a symbol used to warn those who were being monitored by the council.
She saw her father’s name written in fresher, darker ink at the bottom.
It was a warning. Madds warned her father that suspicion was being drawn his way. Erinna knew the baker’s contacts ran deep but didn’t realize just how far into the palace they went. Memories came crashing back.
The nuanced warning, the reason he was keeping her even further than an arm’s reach away. It was safer for Erinna to not be involved in whatever machinations he concocted, but only marginally.
Anger gnawed through, mingling with fear. If he’d known about the suspicions, why in all the hells couldn’t he just lie low?
Her hands started to shake, and the paper slipped through, falling back into her lap.
“Is everything okay?” asked Inez.
Erinna barely registered the sound of rustling fabric and patter of soft footsteps as Inez crept to her side. “No.” She tried to shake her head, but her body felt frozen in place, leaden and immovable.
Inez took the parchment, fingers pinched at the corner, when her head suddenly rolled back, aimed at the shoddy rafters.
Her eyes clouded white, and her body stiffened to an unnatural degree.
It was her Talent, Erinna realized. It must have been triggered by something on the page.
Gods, she wished she understood how it all worked.
Was Inez in pain? Did she somehow force her to divine?
Then the whispers started.
Hushed, incomprehensible words streamed through Inez’s lips. Her hand trembled before she released it with a gasp, like her lungs had stalled their work.
“What happened? Are you all right, Inez?” Erinna gripped Inez’s shoulders, fear dissolving into worry.
Inez blinked, her soft brown irises returning to normal. “I,” she started, rubbing her eyes as if she had just woken up. “I didn’t expect that.”
Erinna took the paper and held it over the closest candle. The flame caught and reduced the paper to ash.
The smell of smoke filled the room, and ash fluttered to the ground. It was so slight, Erinna nearly missed it, but the soft pressure was unmistakable. Arcanum threads were severed by the flame—likely a small enchantment Madds had done to keep the warning concealed from prying eyes.
Inez placed a soft hand on Erinna’s shoulder. “I saw him, your dad.”
Erinna stilled.
What did you see? Is he okay? What happened? Why were you able to see him? Erinna wanted to ask a string of questions, but bit her tongue. Inez still looked somewhat dazed from the experience, and the last thing she wanted to do was distract Inez from whatever vision she was trying to communicate.
“He’s okay. He will be okay. At least, for as long as we are here.” Inez looked around the room as if to orient herself, brow furrowed into a stern line. “I’m sorry. It was…a bit jumbled. I just…that’s all I know and…” She trailed off, frowning as she turned to face Erinna.
“It’s okay, is there anything else?”
Inez shook her head.
“But he is safe? As long as I am here, he is safe?” She was trying to make sense of it all but couldn’t help the sense of relief starting to fill her. Her father was safe. At least for now.
Inez shook her head. “He’s not safe because you are here. He will be safe while you are here. That’s all I could tell.”
“That’s all right. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Tears burned in her eyes, threatening to spill, but Erinna blinked them away. She would take it. Anything that could give her solace that her father was still tucked away at home. Cursed but alive.
She patted Inez’s hand in gratitude before slumping onto her mattress. She watched the remaining wisps of smoke dance up to the rafters, seeping through cracks in the shingles. Inez pulled her sleeping mat and blankets next to hers.
“Do you mind?” she asked but was already curled beneath the quilt before Erinna could respond. She nodded and couldn’t help the sense of comfort Inez’s proximity brought.
Erinna snuffed out the remaining candles and let exhaustion take her. Her back pressed against the diviner’s as they both drifted to sleep.
Stars littered the sky. Their light reflected in the obsidian water beneath Erinna’s feet. Shit. It was happening again, the same nightmare. Dark evergreens rose from the treeline. She was in the same lake. The same nightmare. In the stillness, sobbing echoed from the shadows.
No. It was starting earlier this time.
“You’ve come back,” the Weeping Queen sobbed, her figure emerging from the forest. The edges of her body were sharper than before, like the apparition had strengthened since Erinna last slept. She sprinted across the lake, desperate to escape. The sobbing grew louder; the queen grew closer until—
THWAK.
Erinna jolted awake, pressing a hand to her cheek to ward off the sudden, sharp sting. Inez grumbled and shifted beside her, limbs stretched in all directions. She’d slapped Erinna in her sleep. She must have.
“You left,” Inez mumbled, voice thick and groggy. She yawned and turned on her side before falling back to sleep. Under normal circumstances, Erinna would have taken great amusement in the moment. But there was that nagging feeling of danger she couldn’t shake.
The feeling that Inez had saved her from another awful encounter. Sighing, Erinna curled deeper beneath the worn blanket and tried to drift off into a dreamless sleep.