Chapter 7
seven
Vade was right.
Her clothes caught on every damn thing. After walking for several marks, Orelia had more snags in her clothing than a beggar in the streets.
When she’d asked why they hadn’t stayed on The Wooded Road and were trudging through the forest instead, Vade said it was harder for anyone to track them this way.
She’d protested, but he’d waved her off, and that had been the end of it.
Sweat dripped in hot lines down her back, and the wind had disappeared completely.
If not for her innate healing, her legs would have been as heavy as bricks and blisters would have bubbled on her heels.
Even with her rapid restorative health, the day’s travels had Orelia plopping down on her bedroll the second Vade said they’d be stopping for the night.
She poured water into her hand and rubbed her neck, moaning from the cool relief. If every day was going to be like this, Orelia didn’t know how she was going to make it. Drenched in sweat for wordless miles was not her idea of fun.
Vade freed the wide-handled weapon strapped to his back, and she turned her nose up as it morphed into a double-sided battle axe, glowing white with seidr light. He headed into the woods without telling her where he was going or what he was doing.
She didn’t mind being alone, as it gave her time to catch her breath and fix her damp mess of hair.
Orelia pulled a few leaves and twigs free that had lodged themselves in her wavy locks and tossed them aside.
She fell back on her bedroll with an exhausted huff.
The canopy of highly placed pine needles gave her patchy views of the sky turning pink as dusk approached.
She had just closed her eyes for a bit of respite when Vade returned carrying two rabbits and a bundle of firewood, not looking one bit fatigued from the efforts on top of the day’s exertions.
Orelia sipped from her waterskin as she watched him use one of his many knives to shave off a few thin pieces of wood.
He set up the heftier logs in a pyramid shape, then stuffed the kindling he’d made inside.
After scraping some shavings off his flint rock, he turned the flint over and struck it with his knife.
In one motion, the shavings caught fire, the kindling curling as the flames stretched higher, the wood quickly catching.
She preferred a much easier way to make a fire. A few drops of oil onto the bottom log in the hearth, followed by a toss of a lit match, and the fire would start. She couldn’t imagine having to go through all the steps Vade went through anytime she wanted a fire.
The rabbits were skinned and skewered, then set atop a spit he’d fashioned out of a few pieces of joined wood from his pack.
Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled as he turned the pair over and let the flames lick their pale pink sides.
Vade had been silent since threatening to drag her across Nivinia with his shadows, and she hadn’t been itching for conversation since.
Orelia worked alone and lived alone; she could handle his brooding silence.
As the crackling fire cooked their dinner, dusk faded and brought the forest’s understory into the beginnings of darkness.
The insects began their chorus, and a cool breeze started, carrying the scent of honeysuckles from somewhere nearby.
Thank the gods it was spring and the nights were bearable, unlike the hot, sticky summer weather that lingered no matter the time of day.
They ate the rabbits as the crickets sang, Vade inhaling his like someone was about to take it from him. When he was finished, he wiped the juices off his short beard and stood.
Before she could ask him what he was doing, his fingertips began glowing white.
He held his arms out in front of him, palms facing out.
As he panned from left to right, a white film formed a few yards past the campfire, starting from the ground, and curving inward as it stretched taller.
The forest quieted, or perhaps the ward he was erecting blocked out the sounds.
Vade slowly turned, wrapping the ward that rippled like water around them until it formed a high dome.
When the final part of the ward had sealed above them, the light faded from his fingertips, and the white barrier turned clear.
Upon closer inspection, Orelia noticed it wasn’t fully clear, but slightly blurred like a dirty window.
Details were obscured, but she could make out the shapes of the trees beyond.
Despite sorcery being strictly forbidden and decidedly wrong, she couldn’t hide her fascination at seeing it used.
“How can you cast seidr magic if you aren’t a sorcerer?” she asked. “I get the weapons and stones being infused with it, but how can you use it?”
“It was a gift.”
Orelia lifted her brows, encouraging him to expand on his answer that wasn’t actually an answer.
Vade pursed his lips but he responded. “I was told the ability is tied to the stone, somehow, and it’s the only type of seidr magic I can cast. It makes my life hells of a lot easier, as no one can see inside the ward, so I don’t have to worry about being attacked while asleep.
Passerbys can’t see light or objects in here, and sound cannot leave this dome. ”
A peek at his open pack revealed a glass orb sitting inside. “Not even trulights can be seen?”
Vade pointed at his orb. “I prefer the light of a fire so I rarely use that, but no, not even trulight can be seen from the outside.”
Orelia surveyed the magical dome. Pieces of visible sky had become a fuzzy purple, the stars like splashes of thick raindrops. “What if someone walks into it?” she asked.
Vade’s boots crunched on dry leaves as he approached the fire. “They can’t. The ward makes them choose another path. They don’t know why they’re pulled to walk in a different direction, but they stray away from it. Same for animals. You’re safe in here.”
“Safe, trapped inside a cage with an assassin . . .”
The comment earned her a small smile. “I’m not an assassin. Assassins kill for gain. Executioners kill for justice. Plus, assassins keep their identity hidden, and why would I want to rob anyone of seeing my handsome face?” He gestured to himself, seeming proud of the conceited comment.
Orelia rolled her eyes.
Vade added more kindling to the fire, then pointed behind her. “You should move your bedroll over to that bed of moss. That patch of grass you’re on won’t be as comfortable.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Suit yourself. But don’t blame me when you’re sore in the morning.”
She didn’t bother heeding him. The thick tufts of grass would be far better than moss.
Vade finished fussing with the fire, sat back, and leaned against a tree.
He began sharpening one of his smaller knives on a whetstone with smooth precision, a movement appearing as effortless as breathing for him.
The steel gleamed in the firelight, and Orelia wondered how many throats that particular blade had seen.
As if sensing her watching him, he spoke, eyes never leaving his work. “Get your questions out of the way now so I don’t have to answer them for the next month.”
Orelia wrapped her arms around her knees and tucked her skirt underneath her. “Are you going to be this rude the whole time?”
“Is that really one of your questions?”
“Fine. How long have you been the king’s executioner?”
Another smooth swipe of his blade across the whetstone. “Nine years.”
Repulsive. “How old are you now?”
“Twenty-six.”
Fae had long life spans, and even though he was seven years her junior, he looked a few years older than her.
“And this job makes you . . .happy?”
His eyes slid to hers. “Very.”
Plenty of men in the brothel bragged about killing.
They boasted about the great creatures they felled or mocked the pleading people whose lives they stole, as if they had the right to do so in the first place.
There was bravado in their stories, but Vade seemed to draw his happiness from somewhere else, judging by the wickedness sparkling in his onyx eyes.
The eerie look could only come from a place deep within where the thrill of killing wasn’t because of male pride or the success of knowing you defeated another.
No, his happiness came from killing for the sake of killing.
Not to brag, but to relish in the pure enjoyment it brought him.
It wasn’t a misguided sense of duty or a way to earn a living. He genuinely loved it.
Swallowing her contempt, Orelia continued. “If you’ve been doing this for nine years surely you’ve seen most of the world already, yes?”
He nodded and exchanged one knife for another, repeating the sharpening process.
“Which place is your favorite?”
“I don’t have a favorite. Though Ricaboro certainly has enough entertainment to keep a man busy until his pockets run dry.”
Ricaboro certainly had a reputation, but Millie’s innocent face jumped to the forefront. Perhaps he’d been with her before in the city’s luxury brothel. If not her, certainly many other women. A man of his wealth and looks wouldn’t spend his free time with only ale as a comfort.
“I imagine you’ve seen quite a lot in your travels,” she said, flicking a bug off her shoulder.
“I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe, little lamb.”
She knew the name was an insult but let it roll off her shoulders. Orelia twisted her body to face him, forgoing the fire’s warmth. “Like what?”
He stopped sharpening his knife and gave her his full attention.
“I’ve seen a ship made entirely from dragon scales, turning near invisible when the light hits it just right.
I’ve seen gems the size of perrin falcon eggs, dancers who could move their hips like they were separate from their bodies, and women with forked tongues who could tell you your future if you sold them your soul. ”