Page 19 of Of Mischief and Mages

Maybe, to ensure it never happened, I ought to sic these royal guards on them. Have them retrieve my bag.

The rider held out one hand, assisting me like a noble hero would do, into the coach.

I opened my mouth to rat out the thief and his band, but froze.

A gloomy bite of betrayal bloomed through my chest. Betrayal? Why should I feel any sense of loyalty for that bastard? He was exactly like Lloyd and . . . I’d never snitched on him either.

This was different. It was as though something inside me could not speak against the thief. Like clamps fastened my tongue into place.

Once I was settled on a plush, blue velvet bench, the idea struck me like a fist to the back of the skull. The thief, he’d also been some freakish magician. He’d laughed when I said I’d rat him out.

Damn him to hell. He’d done some kind of spell. I was certain of it, could practically taste the rot of it on my tongue.

I couldn’t rat him out even if I tried. Perhaps I should’ve been horrified, but anger bubbled in my gut and all I wanted to do was somehow get even.

CHAPTER 8

Kage

In the widecourtyard in front of the main gates of the palace, a cloaked man tossed pig skin pouches that burst in silver constellations overhead, then twisted and transfigured into silver doves flying across the crowds.

Across the courtyard, a woman perched atop stilts wove in and out of the Havestia festival, tossing golden scrolls that revealed a secret, a whim of destiny, or a bit of gossip.

Tents of all shapes reached for the angry sky like jagged teeth. No approaching Torrent would dampen the long awaited fiftieth festival since the goddess brought tentative peace to the continents across Terrea.

I clicked my tongue, gesturing for Cy, Asger, and Gwyn to follow me.

We kept hoods covering our heads, faces pointed toward the cobbled stones. The way my skull screamed, the last thing I wanted was to be spotted.

Near a blue tent with glittering stars stitched along the canvas flaps, children clapped gleefully as acolytes played stunning tricks of the mind. One disappeared a young girl’s floppy yarn ribbon, only to return it as a soft, satin bow. Another transformed pebbles intofigurines of famous historical Soturi battle mages for young ones to claim.

“Come on, Kage.” Asger shoved my shoulder.

“Asger,” I said, desperate to keep my voice light, unbothered. “You are growing into such a fine nursemaid. Shall you rock me to sleep tonight as well?”

He snorted and muttered a softbastardunder his breath.

A vendor strode past with a tray of sugar ribbons blown into delicate curls, roasted goose topped in savory gravies, and endless glasses of mead to keep mages full and lightheaded.

I paused in front of the shrine of the Blood Sacrifice from House Ravenwood. I’d never taken much interest in tales of the time when my family was torn to pieces, but something brought me to a pause now.

Mosaic tiles shaped into a woman made of fire—flames for hair, blue sparks for eyes, even her lips were wild with a blaze. Our unknown, the soul who’d supposedly saved our way of life and restored a bit of security amongst the mage people seasons ago, yet no one could recall her name.

Thornless blood ferns with their blue blossoms scattered across the ground in front of the shrine. People left cakes and sweets, cloth dolls, and small daggers as offerings of thanks.

Some whispered she was part goddess like Mother Terrea. Others said she was the last daughter of the first house of mages—brilliant, powerful enough the trees bowed in her presence.

“Thought this lovely was supposed to show her face,” Cy said, holding a handful of candied corn in his gloved palms. He tossed in a few kernels, spilling some down his front, but kept his eyes trained on the Blood Sacrifice. “Wasn’t that why our dear princey went so extravagant this season weave?”

“I wouldn’t take much stock in such tales, my friend.” There was no aid from blood mages coming our way. We were utterly alone. Hope had dwindled from me long ago, and my only regret now is I’d failed to fulfill a promise. I’d failed, andshewould suffer.

A shudder danced down my spine. The same nudge I’d been feeling for weeks, like there was somewhere I needed to be,something I ought to know. Something that stirred a sort of heated urgency to the very marrow of my bones.

I peeled away from the shrine. “We need to go.”

“Oh, do we?” Asger grumbled. “I’ve only been trying to drag your ass out of here for the last half a bell.”

As if on cue, the clock tower bell rang out over the festival. Cheers rose from the crowds, glitter burst into the grim sky. Another hour of Havestia. More time for tales of magic that once protected our realm and might one day live again.

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