Page 87 of Of Glass and of Gold

Opportunity sparkled in his eyes.

43

Nora

My body ached, but I remained tense because it was impossible to relax. The camp sang with people performing various activities, often tossing glances my way. This outfit provided me camouflage in the night, but during the day it had the opposite effect. I wondered if I’d draw less attention by revealing my face.

The man who’d made us forfeit our weapons on the trail hovered around the tent, and I guess finally reached a level of boredom or curiosity enough to walk over to me. “Do you wield?” he asked.

“Do you?” I replied with snark.

He chuckled, apparently not easily ruffled. His hand contorted, and a summoned wind swept around me like a boa constrictor before he let it fall to his side and the world returned to calm.

“I guess that answers that question.” I tried to keep my astonishment contained.

“Were you born and raised in Highcrest?”

“I was.”

He threw out a passing look of judgment before it was gone. “Do you think magic is dangerous?” He was assessing me, no doubt likely to report it to his leader.

Luckily, the truth was on my side. “Magic isn’t dangerous, it’s the people who wield it that can be.”

A momentary stare down, ending with an approving dip of his chin. His dark hair was pulled back into a stubby ponytail, the shorter hairs falling over the back of his neck. The chestnut brown of his skin stood out brightly against the washed-out navy clothes he adorned.

From what I’d gleaned since he’d escorted us into camp, he downplayed his fighting skills. I’d noticed it from how he’d refused to let Nicholas or me out of his line of sight, and the way he kept his stance planted as if ready to square up within a split second. All while avoiding any hint that he would retrieve the sword sheathed at his side. Judging from his sculpted muscles and proper posture, he appeared as sufficiently trained as Chol—Nick.

“You from Windguard?” I asked.

He paced the firepit, body angled toward me even though his face scanned the perimeter, still not risking unguarded exposure by giving me his back. “I am,” he mimicked my response, just as I’d mimicked his stunted questions.

“Were you a soldier there?”

He paused, glancing over at me, furrowing his brow. “What makes you say that?”

I shrugged, the small act exhausting after that tortuous journey. Just then, Chol—Nicholas emerged from the tent. I straightened against the agony in my back and shoulders, searching his eyes for any indication of how the meeting went. Behind him, the man who I assumed was Radhak followed, clasping a hand on Nicholas’s shoulder. My heart picked up its pace.

“Ravinder, fetch Ro and tell her she’s to set up a tent for our visitors,” Radhak said.

My chatty companion nodded and stalked away without another word, and I glanced between the two men. They looked alarmingly alike. I’d bet money they were siblings. Radhak possessed more jagged features, a little bit of gray peppering his dark hair. The elder sibling, higher in the hierarchy.

Nicholas fixed his gaze upon me, silently questioning my well-being. It flared my anger, if only because I hated how I enjoyed that he still cared. He turned toward Radhak, extending his hand. They clasped in a powerful shake, one exchanged between two leaders. I didn’t dare assume everything had gone according to plan, though it looked that way. If I did, I would be crushed when I found out it didn’t. Still, the nervous energy made me wiggle my toes in my boots.

“Rest. We’ll make sure to summon you both for dinner,” Radhak said, offering me a welcoming smile and a nod before dipping back inside his tent.

Nicholas slowly approached, treating me like a skittish deer.

“Well?!” The question burst from me.

His eyes scoped our surroundings as he replied, “He’ll lend a crew of his men tonight.”

I sighed so deeply my lungs nearly caved in. Like my curiosity had been the last thing to hold me up, my knees gave out. Chol moved before I could blink, his sturdy arms catching me. A heartbeat later, he swept me into a cradled position against him. I couldn’t even consider protesting, because my muscles and very bones groaned with relief from not having to support myself.

“Is she alright?” Glancing over my shoulder, a blonde woman, hair and skin dusted with age, wiped her hands across her flour-laden apron. “Does she need something to eat?”

“N-”

“Yes,” Nicholas said. “Whatever you have, I’ll pay for your kindness.”

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