Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
By the time Erinna disembarked, her body was sore and aching from a day’s worth of labor. She squeezed the muscles in her shoulder to ease the throbbing. Her feet dragged across loose stone and dirt on her way back to camp.
A few of the pirates nodded in acknowledgment as she trudged along the path. It seemed nearly breaking herself to keep a ship from drowning earned her some modicum of respect.
The camp was filled with dull laughter and conversation when she returned. The new bars around the door mocked the earlier failure. Erinna scowled at the iron.
Sleep would be pointless, she realized, returning to her hut. No matter how tired her body was, her mind raced. Would they make it in before Haru and her academy entourage arrived? What would happen if they didn’t? Erinna sighed, stepping lightly over Inez’s sleeping form to grab her bag.
There was a small cup of tea nestled on the floor near her pillow. Inez must have prepared it while she was gone.
Erinna felt the strong walls she had built around herself start to crumble. The walls that kept everyone at a distance.
She stopped and gently drew the comforter up over Inez’s slender shoulders.
If Erinna had done anything right, it was getting Inez out of Tarth and away from the king and academy.
Kane had been true to his word, and the pirates were far better company than what waited for her back at home.
She was starting to trust them more and more. To an extent.
Erinna made a note to keep that to herself. She feared how large Kane’s ego would grow if she told him as much.
She returned to the courtyard with a new project in hand, scanning the area for a private corner. Empty crates and barrels sat near the crumbled archways that used to hold entryway gates. It would be the best place, Erinna surmised, and she trudged over, pulling her arms around her body for warmth.
The soft glow of firelight barely crept to her area of solitude.
Most of the illumination came from a waning moon above.
It would suffice. She perched on a wooden crate and made quick work of the latch.
If she weren’t so tired, Erinna would have tried to make a show.
Paint herself in normalcy, pretend she needed more light to read the contents.
But exhaustion worked its way into indifference.
These pirates wouldn’t care about her uncanny night vision. They weren’t Tarthan, she reminded herself, but she still struggled to find solace.
Letters and old pictures poured into her lap.
One ripped piece of parchment contained a name—Ronan Wymark.
Something pinged her sense of familiarity.
She’d heard that name before, but the memory of the source escaped her.
A royal wax seal with no letter lay crumbling in her lap.
Erinna threw it back into the box. The more she rifled through the contents, the more frustrated she became.
What in all the gods’ graces was so important about a ragtag assortment of… stuff?
On another piece of paper was a constellation. She pulled up her sleeve, heart racing as she compared it to the mark on her arm. There were some similarities, but not enough for Erinna to consider it meaningful. Still…she folded the paper and placed it back into the box.
What the hell was he planning to do? Was he even planning? Erinna eyed a hand-drawn map. She recognized the style; it was clearly the work of her father in his more adventurous youth. An X hovered in an area just off the coast of the Great North.
“What the fuck were you looking into?” she groaned. Everything about it was strange and entirely unhelpful.
“You’ll strain your eyes with this little light.”
Erinna swallowed a cry and scrambled to put the contents back into the box—safe from prying eyes. The last person she wanted to share with was the Minor Apprentice.
Afton stood before her, hands shoved into his pockets.
The spite and spitfire from their first interaction were gone, replaced with stern exhaustion.
She could see the darkness around his eyes that likely mirrored her own.
His clothes were wrinkled, but somehow his hair remained relatively well-placed.
He was clearly drained, despite the collected facade.
After the latest failure, Erinna wondered how many sleepless nights he would spend trying to find a way to fix it.
“What do you want, Apprentice?” she sighed with threadbare patience.
“Afton, please.” He smiled and brushed a few strands of hair back behind his ear.
Erinna eyed him warily, unsure where this newfound friendliness was coming from. “Afton,” she started. “How can I help you?”
“A truce.”
“I don’t—”
“I fear I made a poor first impression.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“You got that right,” she scoffed, finally giving him her full attention.
He cocked an eyebrow, as if waiting for an apology himself.
Erinna rolled her eyes but complied. It was true, she had been a bit prickly during their first encounter.
“I wasn’t on my best behavior either.” That was the closest he would get.
In fact, she was proud of such maturity.
Afton chanced a few steps closer, visibly relaxing when Erinna didn’t snap her teeth at him or throw her fist. Erinna pushed her things further into the shadows, hoping to keep his focus away from her personal items.
“Let’s restart then, shall we?” He pulled a hand from his pocket and held it out in greeting.
Her eyes darted to his outstretched hand, then scanned his face. She didn’t accept the gesture. He was practically painted with ulterior motives. “Why did you really seek me out?”
“Curiosity mostly.” He shrugged off the rejection like it was nothing more than a speck of dust.
“Right,” she drawled, narrowing her eyes and letting silence fall between them. When it was clear Afton would not be providing any additional information, she started again. “Cut the shit, Afton. Why are you really here?”
“Why do you think I’m here, Yarrow?” he asked with an infuriatingly condescending smirk.
She regretted her decision for peace. He was playing games with her. She hated when people had the audacity to waste her time.
“I couldn’t care less.” She rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t true. She had been wondering why the esteemed Minor Apprentice was working with pirates to break into his own mentor’s prized library, but it was clear Afton didn’t plan to divulge information.
Erinna made a show of packing up her stuff, focusing on anything other than the apprentice, pleased when he gave a disappointed sigh. “Believe it or not, I am trying to finish his work.”
That shocked Erinna—enough to drop her show of nonchalance. “Finishing his work? Here? Like this?” She glanced around the camp, eyeing the few drunken pirates passed out near the fire, traced the dancing lights over to the large iron bars keeping them locked out and desperate.
“I guess you could call my actions somewhat under the realm of approval.”
There was something in his tone, a type of indifference that sparked the embers of her frustration.
“They think you’re kidnapped, you know. There are mages spending sleepless nights trying to compensate for whatever duties you’ve neglected.
And now they’re mourning a mentor you left behind.
” Erinna thought of Damien, thought of the chaos back on Tarth as the kingdom flailed and mourned.
His face darkened. “You don’t know anything, Yarrow.”
“So tell me. Stop playing games and tell me why you’re here, or at least why you sought me out. Unless you were simply looking for a fight?” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.
Afton relented. “Mage burnout. That’s why I’m here. Trying to find a way to stop it.”
“I see.” Erinna was pleased to finally have a straightforward answer.
“So you’ve heard of it?”
“Who hasn’t? Mages overreach, they burn out, they get sick or die. And you think the answers are here?” She waved her hand in a wide arc, gesturing to the library with a flourish.
“It’s a start. Isn’t that why you’re here? To find direction?” Afton glanced at her forearm; her sleeve had rolled down enough to reveal the mark. Erinna internally cursed herself for such carelessness as she quickly pulled her sleeve back down to her wrists, hiding the mark once more.
“Was this really easier? You have an entire academy at your disposal. Don’t you have the most educated people on the case for it? Why partner with Kane and risk high treason at all? There are people back home who think you’re in danger.” There was more to his purpose; that much was clear.
“They’re not looking in the right place.”
“Then make them. You’re an apprentice.”
“It’s not that simple, Yarrow. Not everyone wants an answer to it, and I don’t have the luxury of being branded a traitor for trying.”
Her stomach dropped. Who in their right mind on Tarth wouldn’t want a better solution to mage burnout?
So far, witchstone was the only answer, a way to contain excess arcanum, but she remembered an earlier mage’s complaint—that the new batches were dull and hardly up to standard.
Still, what made Afton think he, of all people, could solve what even Iprix himself couldn’t?
“So, is that your grand plan? To pick through some books and then go back a hero?”
The corners of his lips twitched in amusement. “Is that any different than yours?”
Erinna scowled, hating that he was right. “This is the only option I have.”
He raised a brow in curiosity. “I have to say I’m impressed with you, though. Coming here, of all places, for answers.” Afton said it like he was praising her bravery.
“Don’t pretend like you know why I’m here,” she shot back.
The mage held his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, I’m certain you have a much better plan than riffling through some books.”
“This conversation is going nowhere,” she clipped, reaching for her bag, ready to find another place as far from Afton as possible.