Chapter Seven
Titus runs a hand through his wild hair, staring up toward our small window as if all the mysteries of the gods reside there.
“This storm will settle in for a few days,” I say. “We’re stuck here until it clears. So you don’t have to make up your mind
just now.”
“The choice will be no easier for putting it off,” he growls.
I sigh. No, it won’t be. But a few days might give me time to win him over somehow. The truth is I’m terrified to be left
alone here. Titus, though gruff and taciturn, has shown me kindness.
“When we got here,” he says. “You offered to work for our keep. Even though you know I have the coin for it. Why?”
I shrug, which sends a stab of pain into my shoulder. I say, “I know you don’t want people poking in your business. And there’s
nothing like a show of wealth to invite questions.”
“So you were protecting me. Even though you’re injured.”
“I said I’d make myself useful.”
He seems regretful and sad. His eyes study my face, the line of my neck, the curve of my injured shoulder. My skin flushes
warm. I’m used to men’s stares. But this feels different.
Titus steps toward the cot, his face suddenly resigned, and I start to back away, but I’ve nowhere to go.
“Hold still,” he says, and his huge hands descend toward my shoulder. His fingertips prod around a bit, and even though I gasp, the pain is slight thanks to his surprising gentleness. “It’s not dislocated again, at least,” he says.
“No, not yet.”
“Close your eyes,” he orders.
My heart races, but I comply. I trust him, I tell myself. I do.
Bright heat pours into my shoulder like molten gold. The burn runs down to my elbow, up my neck to the base of my skull. I’m
panting from the sensation; it’s almost too much to bear. And just when I’m about to cry out, to beg him to please stop, I
realize my muscles are relaxing, that it burns so good.
He removes his hands; I open my eyes.
I feel him watching me, but I don’t dare meet his gaze. Carefully, gradually, I circle my shoulder around. There is no pain.
It’s perfect. Healed.
Neither of us says anything for a moment. This time it’s my turn to stare at the window as if it contains all the mysteries
of the gods. The blizzard howls outside. Strains of horrible lute playing push through the walls. Finally I’m able to say,
“Thank you for healing me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I promised you I would tell you my Gift if you told me yours.”
“I won’t hold you to that prom—”
“I have the most useless Gift ever.” I turn to look at him.
He regards me warily. No, it’s actual fear, straight up.
Because now I know something important about him.
Something dangerous. “I can make things cold,” I tell him with a wry smile.
“I live in one of the coldest places in the world. And the gods saw fit to give me the gift of ice.”
His eyes widen slightly. “That’s a grand Gift, actually,” he says thoughtfully. “Even grander than your sister’s. One powerful
Gift will crop up in a family every now and then. But two at once?”
That’s an awful lot of thoughts freely shared, but I know better than to make him uncomfortable by pointing it out. “We found
use for my Gift,” I say. “I’ve only had it a few years now, but we were already developing a reputation. In late summer and
early fall, customers came for miles to eat at the Three Corners Inn. Everyone knew we had the freshest food. Even fruit out
of season. It’s because I could keep everything so cool.”
“That doesn’t sound useless at all.”
I shrug. “Well, compared to healing . . .”
“Show me,” he says, holding out his arm.
I frown.
He raises an eyebrow, as if in challenge.
“Oh, very well.” My mother would birth puppies if she saw me exchanging Gifts with a stranger. Well, maybe not so much a stranger
anymore. We’ve been traveling together for days now. “Let me know if it starts to hurt,” I warn, and he nods.
I wrap my fingers around the width of his forearm, which is warm and as solid as a tree trunk. I close my eyes and concentrate
a moment. It’s as easy as breathing, as Gifts always are. I simply pluck the string of power deep inside myself and direct
the magic toward his arm. It begins to cool in my grasp. Not too much, I tell myself. Just enough to demonstrate.
“By the gods,” he hisses.
I release his arm at once. “I’m sorry!”
“It didn’t hurt,” he assures me. “It was just . . . intense. Unexpected.” He flexes his elbow and stretches out his fingers
to test them. “Another few seconds, and . . .” His head snaps up to catch my eye. “Can you freeze things?”
“Yes.”
“Even a person?”
“I’ve never frozen a person, but . . .”
“You’ve thought about it.”
I nod. “Those men in the common room are hardly the first I’ve dealt with. And I’ve often wondered what I would do if things
got really out of hand. I think I could snap-freeze a man’s . . . limb. If I wanted to. When the raiders burst into my inn, I was ready
to do it. I meant to do it. But then they ran my father through with a sword, and I was so shocked, and I . . . someone hit
me over the head, and then . . . they’re all dead because I couldn’t . . .”
He rubs at his beard again. “Interesting,” he murmurs, which is not the word I would have picked. “You could turn your Gift
into a powerful weapon, but you’d need some training.”
My face is still warm. Some people freely share their Gifts, like Anja, or the servant in the common room who could make smoke
obey his commands. But it’s a very personal choice. I’ve never exchanged Gifts with someone who wasn’t a close friend or relative.
“You should get some rest,” he says. “The healing is thorough, but it sometimes exacts a cost in energy.”
“All right.” I am feeling sleepy. Deliciously sleepy. And hungry. Magic use always demands fuel—another reason we working folk don’t just magic our way through the world without a care. But hunger is an old companion now, and my stomach will keep until morning.
He leaves me alone in the room, shutting the door gently behind him. In spite of my drowsiness, I’m awake a long time, thinking
of things unspoken. Like the silent promise that neither of us will tell about the other’s Gift. And though mine might be
grand enough to be considered unusual, his is one of the five royal Gifts, and it marks him a prince as surely as a crown.