Hunter: Faction 10: The Isa Fae Collection Page 12

  A miserable shrew. At least he hadn’t said she'd be old as well, though the exact aging process of breeds was still unclear. The oldest breed she'd known had been near sixty and looked not a day over twenty-five—a sign that breeds may inherit those specific Fae genetics. But that could have been an illusion. The breed Meduna had long been suspected of using her magic within her home. Especially when her only child found a mate and moved across the village from her.

  “What happened in the woods?” Darrian pressed, throwing Thora back in the nightmarish memories.

  A deep shudder coursed through her as she recounted the events. Fighting tears as she explained what Garrett had seen. “My mother spared herself and Britta.”

  “What of the others?”

  She shook her head, unable to bear the grief in his eyes.

  “The whole village was on fire. I don’t know how anyone could have survived. If they did, they would have fled to the woods or been taken by the Bascadors.”

  Darrian stood, and she gazed up at him. His face was an unfamiliar mask of stoicism.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Thora, but The Sanctuary isn’t as it seems.”

  “I know.”

  “And neither is Garrett.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s my friend, and I trust him with my life. With your life. But if you let him, he’ll crush your heart.”

  Too late for that. He already had.

  Chapter 10

  Sophie had a mean streak.

  It wasn’t that Garrett never noticed the snide comments or sharp tone she used with everyone else, but he always attributed it to a bad day. He never thought she was intentionally hurting anyone.

  But it was hard to ignore the cutting words she'd used to tear Rossa down as the other woman managed to mess up dinner again, and even harder to believe they were anything but spite.

  “She’s useless,” Sophie sneered, her eyes following a retreating Rossa. “I can’t understand why Trilby doesn’t reassign her.”

  “Reassign her where?” Garrett asked as they made their way out to the garden.

  “How about the service staff? That’s all she’s good for.”

  “She’s barely twenty,” he pointed out.

  “So? There have been reassignments before. Rossa is a perfect candidate.”

  He pulled her to the side, letting the group behind them pass by. When they were out of earshot, he looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Really, Garrett? How could you not know that they have been reassigning breeds for the last year?”

  “Who?”

  “Amadeus.”

  “No. Which breeds?”

  “Cassius, Dena, Althea. A few others, I guess.”

  How had he missed that? How would Amadeus have gotten approval for this?

  “And they agreed? They chose service over unification?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” Sophie shrugged. “My point is Amadeus has an option. He can let Rossa stay and continue being a disaster, making messes for the rest of us to clean up, or he can put her where she belongs.”

  She started walking down the path toward the group that had passed them. Garrett stared after her, stunned. Had she actually said that?

  She finally realized he wasn’t with her and stopped to look back. “Are you coming?”

  When he didn’t answer, she gave a soft laugh that once would have melted him.

  “Garrett, I was joking. Do you honestly think I would wish that on anyone?”

  “No. Of course not.” Yet, something told him she could. “I need to head back inside. I have a training session with Thora, so I’ll see you later.”

  “Another one?” She rolled her eyes. “She’s been here for weeks. Don’t you think it’s time for someone else to take over?”

  “I’m a hunter, Sophie.” His dark eyebrows drew low. “My job is to find and protect breeds. That doesn’t stop when they’re behind The Sanctuary wall.”

  Sophie pursed her lips. “I’ll see you at dinner then.”

  He didn’t bother to watch her walk away. Instead, he pivoted on his heel and jogged back in to the building and up to his room. He hadn’t lied when he said he had another lesson, but he had enough time to compose an inquiry regarding the change.

  It only took him a minute to write the note to his sister. Marcella didn’t sit on the Fae Council, but the power she held as the head of the Zannis family and Comptroller of The Atern Depository far exceeded the individuals on The Council. She'd be able to question the right people without triggering any alarms.

  He folded the paper in an intricate style, then tossed it up. His hand moved under it and caught the note mid-fall in a beam of red and orange light, suspending it in the air. He brought his fingertips together and quickly spread them, sending a flash of fire up, burning the note. The ashes drifted in to his palm, and he used his other hand to trace a swirling pattern in the debris.

  After washing his hands, he went down to the library to prepare for Thora’s lesson. Upon entering, he spotted Thora and Darrian sitting at the desk in front of the fireplace, their heads together as they read something. At the sight of them together, he came to an abrupt stop, his hands clenched at his sides.

  The rage he felt was all too familiar. It consumed him every time he'd seen them together the last three weeks. But he didn’t have the right to feel it, and Thora had made sure he knew that. The first time he witnessed Darrian touch her arm, he lashed out. Thora had looked at him with narrowed eyes and told him to go find Sophie. Behind her eyes, though, had been another suggestion—to chose her, but he couldn’t. He'd made an oath to The Council. He'd made promises to Sophie.

  Yet, none of that mattered when he saw them. All that mattered was keeping Darrian away from Thora, and that was simply another thing Garrett had no control over.

  “Are you ready to start?” he asked, and the two of them twisted in their seats to look at him.

  Thora pushed her chair back and stood. “Obviously, since I was here on time.”

  Garrett nodded and strode to the training room. He opened the partition and stepped aside for her to pass, but was startled to find Darrian following them. He started to protest, but Darrian gave a slight shake of his head.

  When the three of them were behind the closed partition, he stared at his friend.

  “Is there a reason you want to watch our training?” he asked.

  “Do you remember Lorelle?”

  “Of course.”

  Lorelle had been one of the first breeds he found as a hunter. Her parents had kept her hidden outside the Capitol dome, in a series of tunnels snaking through the mountains to the west of the Oozara, the capitol city. She'd only been at The Sanctuary a year before she united with a Fae from the countryside.

  “I saw her this morning,” Darrian said.

  “I didn’t know she and her mate had come to visit.” It would be a break from standard procedure. He couldn’t remember the last time a breed ever came back.

  “They’re not. She was on her way to speak to Amadeus. Canaria rescued her from a group of Bascadors in Oozara.”

  Garrett let out a heavy breath and rubbed a hand over his mouth. He saw Thora’s eyes widen in horror. The fear that a mated breed would be taken always existed, but until now fear of The Council and the retribution rules kept them safe. The Bascadors were growing brazen.

  He couldn’t even begin to fathom how hearing that would scare Thora. He'd told her time after time that she'd be safe, but if unified breeds were being taken, he couldn’t guarantee anything.

  “We should speak to her before she returns to her mate. She may possess information that will prevent another abduction.”

  “She wasn’t abducted,” Darrian said. “Her mate sold her to the Bascadors.”

  “Shit. Are you sure? She told you this?”

  “I overheard her speaking with Amadeus.”

  “We need to talk to her.” Garrett ran a hand through his hair.

>   “We can’t. Or, at least, I can’t.” Darrian’s eyes flicked from Thora and back to Garrett. “She’s in the east wing.”

  “The service wing,” Thora said, her forehead creased in confusion. “Why would she be there?”

  Garrett’s stomach sank. “She had a choice. Be returned to her mate or join the service.”

  “What kind of choice is that?” Thora’s voice trembled with outrage.

  Neither Darrian nor Garrett said anything. There was nothing to say. Lorelle’s fate was horrific either way. The only difference between the two was that with her mate, she'd have no idea of who she might be sold to, or whether they would make sure she survived the night.

  “I can’t go in there,” Garrett said, and felt his friend’s hard gaze, but refused to look at him.

  “So there’s no way for us to get to her.” Darrian kicked the bottom step. “Damn it.”

  “If you could get in there, would you help her leave?” Thora asked.

  “It’s not as easy as just helping her leave,” Garrett said, one corner of his lips turning up in a humorless smile. “Service staff are not permitted to leave The Sanctuary grounds. There'd be extensive planning required to get in and out without being seen. We'd need to survey the wing, analyze the duty rotation. We couldn’t even begin planning until we had those basics.”

  “You could gain access,” Darrian said to him.

  “I can’t go.” Garrett turned away from Thora. “It would place doubt on my commitment to unification.”

  Darrian scoffed. “I remember when protecting as many breeds as possible wasn’t only your duty, it was your honor. Now, you sacrifice many to save one.”

  “I have sacrificed no one,” Garrett snapped, and glared back at Darrian, aware that Thora was watching their exchange.

  “You’re fooling yourself if you believe that. How many breeds have been sold in to unification like Lorelle? How many were forced to choose service? All while you wait for The Council to grant permission for you to unite with Sophie.”

  “I’m waiting for The Summit. It’s the only time The Council will be gathered before The Coven and the entire faction.” It wasn’t an excuse. That had been the plan he and Darrian agreed to. The one they spent months working toward.

  “And what of those who face the choice before then? Would you let them face the fate you shield Sophie from?”

  Why wouldn’t Darrian let up? Why was he pushing so hard? Annoyance surged in Garrett.

  “It’s not what I want,” he said. “But if we reveal ourselves, if we play our hand now, we’ll lose and so will every breed in the faction. You know this, so why are you suddenly wanting to rush this?”

  “Amadeus isn’t waiting for them to reach twenty-five. He’s taking them before The Council at will.”

  “Sophie told me. I’ve contacted Marcella. She’ll speak to The Council members. If she has to, she’ll go to the Grand Witch Coven.” He held up a hand to stop Darrian’s protest. “I realize it’s not the solution we want, but it will buy us the time we need.”

  There was a long, tense moment while Darrian stared at him. Garrett shifted from one foot to the other under the intense gaze. He understood Darrian’s anger, even agreed with it, but he couldn’t let himself forget the end goal. Freedom for all breeds—not just the ones they could save right away.

  Eventually, Darrian gave a reluctant nod and went back up the steps. As he turned to close the partition, he glanced at Thora. “Remember what I told you.”

  When they were alone, Garrett turned to Thora.

  “What are you supposed to remember?” he demanded.

  “Does it matter?” She folded her arms over her chest. “You never answered my question.”

  “Which one?”

  “If there was a way to get inside the East Wing without anyone finding out, would you help Lorelle?”

  “Of course,” he said. “But there’s no way for Darrian or me to go in without being questioned.”

  “I’ll do it,” she offered.

  “No.”

  “What do you mean no?”

  “It means I’m not going to put you in danger.”

  “I already am. You heard what Darrian said. Amadeus isn’t waiting. I could be next.”

  It was a fact he'd been avoiding since Sophie first told him of Amadeus’s actions. It had almost been enough for him to throw away all of the plans for The Summit. Sending her in there to help free Lorelle would only increase the risk of Amadeus selecting her, and that was not going to happen.

  “That won’t happen.”

  “I’m on kitchen duty this week,” she said, ignoring him. “Rossa usually takes the plates up to the east wing, but I could get her to switch wings with me.”

  “No. Stay out of it.”

  “Is that what Sophie does? Stays out of it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m not Sophie, am I?”

  She turned to the alítheia water and stretched her arms toward it. Splaying her fingers, she lifted the water in a large ball, and then twisted her wrists to send it spinning.

  “Good.” He moved to the opposite side of the pedestal. “Now what will you do with it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The water wavered, then collapsed in to the bowl, droplets splashing to the ground.

  “This is pointless,” she said. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She sighed and shook her head. “I’ve spent weeks trying to get the water to do something—anything—and it never works.”

  “You must use your magic with intent,” he said. “Alítheia water is for seekers of knowledge. What is your reason for using it? What do you want it to reveal?”

  “Nothing.” Her frustration was visible in the short, choppy movements she made with her hands.

  With a wave of his hand, the light went out, leaving the sliver of light from under the door to illuminate the room.

  “Close your eyes,” he said. He waited until they were shut, then slowly made his way around behind her.

  The soft curls that had escaped her braid tickled his cheek, and he gently brushed them aside. She tensed up at the closeness, and he took care not to touch her. Gradually, she relaxed and her back brushed against his chest.

  “Clear your mind.” He waited until her breathing deepened, and she tipped her head to the side just enough to expose the delicate skin of her neck. “Now focus on the water.”

  Sensing the subtle shift of magic in the room, the water swirled violently in the bowl. She reached out with her fingers straightened, and he shifted closer to curl them a bit. The water calmed and subsided into a soothing rotation.

  “Relax,” he whispered. “Feel your call to the water moving through you. Straight, angular motions are for attack; for bursts of power. Let your magic control the water in its natural form.”

  She shivered as his fingers skimmed up her arm to cup her elbows, nudging them up a fraction.

  “Now think of what you seek. The truths you want the water to show you.”

  Vibrant purple sparkles floated through the air from her fingers to the bowl, joining the movement of the water until it gathered in a ball and lifted again. A cast of purple light fell across Thora’s face, an expression of utter peace coming over her, relaxing her features into one of contentment.

  “Let your fingers be an extension of your thoughts, moving them as you would the strings of a harp.”

  She danced her fingers through the air, and inside the orb of water, images of The Sanctuary passed by.

  “Open your eyes and see what you’ve called forth.”

  Together, they watched as the magic pulled The Sanctuary in closely, drifting through the door, and then up the stairs to the fourth floor. Her breath caught as his room came in to focus and she saw the two of them together on the bed.

  The lights retreated, and the ball of water settled back in the bowl. Her head dropped back, hitting his chest.

  “What is it you sought, Thora?” he asked as he guided her arms do
wn to her sides.

  Her head rolled from side to side, and he smiled at her reluctance to give voice to her desires. The feel of her back pressed against his was intoxicating, and he burrowed his nose in her hair. She stiffened briefly then gave a soft moan as his breath passed over her ear.

  The husky sound seemed to wake both of them from the trance the magic had pulled them in to. They quickly stepped apart.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have…”

  “It’s alright,” he said. “This is why training is done in private. Searching for memories that give us comfort or pleasure is a common practice, but it can often show us what we don’t expect.”

  She nodded and stared at the water.

  “Thora, you don’t need to be embarrassed.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Why that memory?”

  “I can’t answer that. Only you know why you chose to bring it in to the light.”

  “But it wasn’t my memory.” She finally looked at him. “I called on yours.”

  Chapter 11

  The bustling noise of the kitchen calmed Thora’s nerves as she made her way over to Rossa. She dropped the bundle of carrots on the counter and smiled at the other woman.

  “I thought I'd help you with the peeling,” Thora said, and picked up one of the carrots, waving the vegetable in front of her.

  “Really? Thanks!” Rossa grinned.

  Thora grabbed a peeler and started skimming the blade across the surface of the carrot, sending a confetti of peelings in to the sink.

  “It’s less messy if you use magic,” Rossa said, and demonstrated by holding a carrot in one hand and waving her other hand over it. The top layer of carrot slid down like a snake shedding its skin.

  “Except your way takes longer.” She held up the two carrots she managed to peel in less time than it had taken Rossa to do her one.

  Rossa laughed. “I suppose, but this way my fingers won’t be orange by the end.”

  The two women made short work of the peeling, and moved on to the potatoes. Rossa’s normal chatter was silenced by what Thora assumed was a new daydream. The quiet gave Thora an opportunity to formulate her next move.