Twisted Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 5) (3 page)

7

Aaric

“
B
ake-a-pie, fast as you can.” Adaryn laughed, clapping her palms against the toddler’s. The child watched her with large eyes, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

She still wasn’t talking, but had warmed up to Adaryn considerably, and tolerated Aaric’s presence. They had spoken to the mayor again, right before leaving the child’s village, and from him learned the girl’s name: Dahlia.

“Put it on the fire for Dahlia and meeeee!” Adaryn reached for the child and tickled her armpits, the toddler snorting with giggles.

Aaric smiled, watching them. They had been traveling for several days, and the more time they spent with the child, the more Aaric grew fond of her. He looked at Adaryn. Her stomach looked a little more round to him, but it was hard to tell. She definitely hadn’t gained much weight, if any. There were dark shadows of fatigue under her eyes. Aaric made sure they traveled at a slow pace, but was it slow enough? He wished pregnancy was a subject he had studied more back in Ruis.

“Look, the real pie is ready,” Adaryn exclaimed, still talking to Dahlia. She turned to the campfire, pulling the pan from the flames. She’d made a small pie from flour and salt Aaric had purchased from the village, and filled it with root vegetables and rabbit. “Careful, darling, it’s hot.” She chatted animatedly to the child as she broke off chunks of the pie, distributing it on plates.

The remainder of the evening passed peacefully, and it wasn’t long before Dahlia was fast asleep, nestled in Adaryn’s arms. The nomad gently brushed the white-blonde hair away from the child’s face. “I can’t do it, Aaric.”

“Can’t do what?” Aaric asked, but he already knew what she meant.

“I can’t give her up. At Bleaksdale. She needs us.”

“We’re going to have our own child to take care of, love,” Aaric reminded her.

“So?” Adaryn frowned at him. “Who says we can’t take of both?” She leaned over the slumbering child, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “We can’t just leave her at Bleaksdale and assume she’ll be safe or happy. She needs parents, Aaric.”

“Let’s wait and see what Bleaksdale holds,” Aaric said, but he didn’t argue. Adaryn was right.

8

Adaryn

“
I
t’s so . . . dark.” We walked through the gates to the city of Bleaksdale.

The city walls were made of dull gray stone and the streets and houses were grimy. It was smaller than Ruis, and while the streets were busy, they weren’t nearly as crowded as the cities we’d visited. I wore my cloak with the hood up. The people didn’t recognize my nomad dress, and as long as I didn’t summon my enchantment, couldn’t identify me as a magic user.

Aaric led our horses as we walked, Dahlia perched in one of the saddles. She looked around with bright eyes, but didn’t say anything. We hadn’t told her that Bleaksdale might be her new home.

“There.” Aaric pointed to a vendor at a cross section of the street. “Let’s get something to eat.”

The fare was a bowl of stew with turnips and onions and tough bits of beef. Aaric wolfed his portion down in thirty seconds flat; I shared mine with Dahlia, eating at a much more sensible pace. I peered at a young woman standing near the food stall selling brightly colored streamers with shiny beads attached. I poked Aaric in the ribs and gestured toward the woman. “What are those?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. They look like necklaces of some sort.”

I pulled Dahlia out of her saddle and together we walked over for a closer look.

“They’re good luck charms,” the young woman explained. She looked to be barely eighteen. “The red and blue braided together is said to ward off evil spirits, the green and yellow are to bring wealth.”

“What about this one?” I pointed at one that was white, threaded with silver and gold thread. The beads caught the sunlight and gleamed.

“The white is supposed to keep the wearer safe from harm.”

“Are they magic?” I asked absently, not realizing my mistake until after I spoke.

The girl’s eyes widened and she took a step backward. “No,” she said emphatically. “No, I don’t hold with magic. No Denali does.”

“It doesn’t have to be magic to be lucky. In fact it would be quite the opposite. Magic can be a blasted nuisance, wouldn’t you say, dear?”

Aaric stepped over to stand next to me, smiling at the young woman, his expression bland. “We’ll take two of the white. One can’t have too much luck in these parts, it seems.”

The girl smiled hesitantly at him and procured two of the charms after Aaric paid. He knelt down, placed one around Dahlia’s neck, and gave her a tender kiss on the forehead. Standing, he placed the remaining necklace around my throat. He smiled at me reassuringly. “Shall we go?” Taking me by the arm, we walked back to the horses. I stole a look behind me. The young woman was still watching us, and she wasn’t smiling. I bit my lip. “I think she’s suspicious.”

“I do too.” Aaric put Dahlia back in the saddle and we walked back down the street we’d come.

“I don’t think mentioning magic is a good idea,” Aaric continued in a low tone. “Not here.”

I nodded miserably. “I’m sorry.” I put my hand up, running my fingers over the smooth silk rope of the charm. “Thank you for the necklace.”

“You’re welcome.” Aaric squeezed my hand reassuringly. “It’s been too long since I’ve bought something nice for you.”

My ears perked up as we passed a tavern. Despite the cold weather, there were several men seated outside, drinking and talking.

“The mayor’s been paying them solid gold to keep the city safe,” one said, a narrow rail of a man with an enormous mustache. “Maybe we should join them.”

“They’re outsiders,” another replied. “I trust them about as much as I trust the Twyli, maybe less.”

“They’ve killed Twyli,” the mustached man protested. “They can’t be all bad.”

We’d passed out of earshot, leaving me wondering who or what they were talking about.

“Let’s get some supplies and leave,” Aaric said suddenly.

I looked up at him, confused. “We just got here.”

Aaric’s eyes never stopped shifting as we walked, surveying the crowd and surroundings—a habit he picked up from Bran. “I don’t trust these people. You saw how that girl reacted; she was still spooked after I tried to smooth things over. And those men by the tavern, if they’ve killed Twyli . . .” He let the unspoken implication hang in the air. I swallowed. Perhaps I’d be killed if they found out I could wield enchantment, even if I wasn’t a Twyli. The farmer had thought I was. They might harm Aaric and Dahlia, simply for being associated with a magic user.

I nodded. “Yes, you’re right. We should.” The unspoken thought that neither of us spoke, but knew: We couldn’t leave Dahlia here alone.

In less than two hours of entering the city of Bleaksdale, we left.

9

Aaric

A
daryn wasn’t eating enough. Aaric glanced at her anxiously in the fading light. Her face was pale, and she looked exhausted. They’d been riding for the better part of a week, leaving Bleaksdale far behind. He’d coaxed, demanded, suggested and begged her to eat, but she couldn’t seem to eat more than a few mouthfuls of whatever their meal consisted of without throwing it back up. She could keep water down, thankfully. He worried about her health, and that of their unborn child. What if the baby didn’t get the nourishment it needed?

“Let’s rest here.” Adaryn reined Sorrel to a halt and pointed to a small clearing of trees off the side of the road. The child sat in front of her. She hadn’t said a word since the night her mother was killed, despite the affection Adaryn showered her with.

“Seems as good a place as any,” Aaric agreed. He dismounted and led his horse to the area she indicated, clearing some of the snow to make a place for them to sleep.

Adaryn and Dahlia spent the next few minutes gathering dead twigs and branches for a fire. Aaric secured the horses and pitched their tent. He remembered a time when it took him the better part of an hour to get up. Now it took only fifteen minutes. He crawled inside and laid out bedding and blankets. By the time he emerged Adaryn had started a small fire, its flames greedily licking the dry wood. Dahlia watched it, her little face expressionless. He walked over to sit next to them.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, and blinked in confusion when Adaryn glared at him.

“Same thing we’ve had for the past five days,” she snapped, throwing the rucksack at him. “Stale bread, dried apples, and cheese.”

Aaric sighed, pulling out some bread. He handed it to her. “Here. Eat this.”

She shoved it away. “I’m not hungry.”

“Adaryn, you need to eat.” Aaric could feel his temper rising. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“
Eating
makes me sick!” she retorted, folding her arms and looking at him crossly. “I’ll try some later.”

Aaric ground his teeth in frustration. “Adaryn . . .” he growled, but cut off when her eyes filled with tears.

“I can’t keep anything down!” She angrily wiped at her eyes. “I’ve tried, Aaric. I
can’t eat.”

Aaric stared at her, helpless. He didn’t know what to do.

All discussion halted when a man stepped out of the woods holding a bow with a nocked arrow. Aaric rose to face him, the hair rising on the back of his neck. “Can I help—” He froze when another armed man stepped out of the trees.

“Aaric!”

Adaryn’s urgent voice wheeled him around, and he saw two more men standing only a few yards away from her and Dahlia. He yanked his sword from its sheath, and advanced on the men. “Stay away,” he snarled. “We’re not looking for a fight, but if you leave me no choice, I’ll—”

“Wait.” Adaryn put a hand out, silencing Aaric, staring intently at the man closest to her. Aaric couldn’t see the man clearly in the deepening gloom, but he looked washed out. His hair was light and his eyes looked colorless, almost like water. He looked vaguely familiar, but Aaric couldn’t say why. The man stared at Adaryn, recognition in his expression.

Adaryn stood. “Take me to your master.”

10

Adaryn

T
heir leader was who I suspected it was. After walking a mile deeper into the forest, we came to a large clearing where several tents had been pitched and fires lit. A tall man stood by the fire-pit closest to us, his hair raven-black, eyes piercing blue. His eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw me, and he smiled.

“We meet again, little sand cat.” He smiled.

“Matias,” I said stiffly. “Still plundering from innocent travelers, I see.”

His smile deepened. “A man has to eat, Adaryn.”

Aaric stepped forward, eyes cold. “How did you escape Sen Altare?”

Matias laughed, clearly amused. “You mean Adaryn hasn’t told you? That’s rich.”

“Told me what?” Aaric eyed me, suddenly wary.

I shifted my feet, uncomfortable with the way the conversation had turned. I couldn’t quite meet Aaric’s gaze. “I helped Matias escape.”

“
What?
”

The accusatory look on Aaric’s face made me feel guilty, but it also flared a spark of anger. I jutted my chin up. “Well, why not? You knew Sirius Archer was going to enslave him. I couldn’t sit by and do nothing.”

Aaric’s jaw clenched and he shook his head.

“Aaric, I had no choice.” He still didn’t say anything, and I threw my hands up, exasperated. The silent treatment from Aaric was the worst.

I whirled to face Matias, shaking a finger under his nose. “This is your fault.”

Matias arched a dark brow wryly, then mercifully switched the conversation by asking, “What brings you to this side of the mountains, Adaryn?”

“I might ask you the same thing.”

“Ladies, first.” He waited expectantly, completely ignoring Aaric and Dahlia.

“All right, then,” I said. “Long story short, we got tired of the prejudice over on that side, and decided to come and see if this side was any better.”

“And is it?” Matias sat on a log by the fire, and motioned me to sit by him. I did so. Aaric sat on the log opposite us, Dahlia on his lap. Aaric watched Matias closely.

“I don’t know.” I frowned, staring at the fire. “People are terrified of magic here.” I turned my frown on Matias, who watched me intently. “Matias, who are the Twyli?”

“I go by Fyrsil now.” He said it almost absently as he considered my question. “If you thought it might be better here, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.” He paused a moment before continuing, choosing his words carefully. “The Twyli are . . . us, Adaryn. That’s the name of the magic users here. They aren’t nomads though. They have a city, called Twyarinoth. It’s several miles east of here.” His mouth twisted distastefully. “They welcome all magic users, regardless of what land you hail from.”

“Why aren’t you there then?” It sounded all right by me. A city that welcomed magic users sounded too good to be true.

Fyrsil arched an eyebrow. “Because even I can’t stomach what they do with the magic.”

“Does it involve kidnapping children?” I glanced worriedly in Dahlia’s direction. She was watching the brigand, her eyes huge in her pale face. I wasn’t sure how much of our conversation she understood.

Fyrsil nodded. “Yes. The Twyli are ruled by a king. He has two children, a son and a daughter. Twins, I believe.” He chuckled ruefully. “They have discovered a power that could possibly match the sky jewel in strength.” He paused, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “You don’t happen to still have it, do you?”

I shook my head. “I gave it away.”

The brigand king groaned, running a hand down his face. “You
would
. Pity. It would have come in use here.”

“You’ve been to Twyarinoth?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I’ve heard enough rumors to lose any interest I might have had in visiting it.”

“Why do they take children?” I asked.

Fyrsil’s eyes flickered over to Dahlia. “Perhaps the girl is hungry.” He motioned to one of the fires closer to the center of camp. “There is food for her, there.”

I took the hint. “Please get Dahlia some food, Aaric.” When he hesitated, I added, “You can bring a plate for me after she’s finished.” Aaric nodded and took Dahlia over to the cook fire.

Fyrsil watched them go. “You chose that scrawny man over me?”

“He’s not scrawny,” I said irritably. “He’s lean, but he’s strong enough.” I narrowed my eyes. “You keep changing the subject, Fyrsil. What is wrong with the Twyli?”

Fyrsil sighed. “The Twyli use the children to make their magic stronger.”

“What? How?” I wrinkled my nose, trying to work my mind around it.

“I don’t know exactly how they do it, only that they do. And the children don’t survive.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said, but chewed my lower lip, thinking. It was madness, but then, I’d seen the Twyli themselves. One tried to take Dahlia. “The Twyli. Do they have yellow eyes?”

Fyrsil looked stunned. “You met the prince? Where? Only the twins have golden eyes, as far as I’ve heard,” he explained. “Them and the king. I think it has to do with the extraction. They’re the only ones of the Twyli who are allowed to use the magic in that manner. Perhaps some in their inner circle do as well, but I’m not sure.”

“What do they ‘extract’?” It was an effort not to shudder. I felt sick inside when I thought about what could’ve happened to Dahlia if I hadn’t intervened.

Fyrsil shrugged. “They take what they call ‘essence’ from them. I don’t know what it is, their soul, maybe? I can’t willingly harm children—or anyone—in that fashion, or support those who do, even if they’re the leading authority in the land.”

I shivered, despite the fire, and wrapped my cloak more snugly around myself.

“What are you going to do?” Fyrsil asked me.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I need to think on it.”

“I should have you killed.” He sighed and stretched lazily, his arms above his head. “After stealing the sky jewel and taking my kingdom from me, you have a lot to answer for.”

I looked at him warily, but he continued as if he hadn’t noticed. “You did, however, free me when you could have left me to rot in prison or be enslaved by those fools. I suppose I’ll let you live.” He gestured to the tents. “You may stay here for a while at any rate.”

“I don’t suppose we’re allowed to leave?” I stood.

Fyrsil shook his head. “Not until I know what you plan to do.”

I nodded and turned away, but paused when Fyrsil spoke again.

“Make no mistake, Adaryn. You left Ruis for a chance at a better life, but what you’ve stumbled upon here is nothing short of a nightmare.”

I trudged through the snow to Aaric and Dahlia.