Page 71 of The Faceless Mage

If there were any way to avoid telling him, she would. The story haunted her, and the wounds seemed to grow deeper with each retelling. But he needed to know why there must be no debt between them.

“It is not that kind of pain,” she admitted. “The truth is, I never knew what to call my magic until Melger named it. It’s always been kept secret, at King Soren’s insistence.”

“What are you to King Soren?” The Raven did not move closer, but seated himself—perhaps for comfort, perhaps so he would seem less threatening. Either way, Leisa was grateful.

“I don’t know,” she confessed, choking back a quick surge of emotion as she realized that she truly didn’t. “For most of my life, he’s treated me like a second daughter. Took me in after my parents disappeared when I was five. Raised me in the palace. Trained me as a guard to the princess and told me to hide what I am.”

When she paused, he asked thoughtfully, “What happened to your parents?”

“I think they left.” She somehow managed to sound as though that didn’t affect her. “Because of me.”

“Because of your magic?” he asked, his voice somehow softer.

“Because I had a sister,” she blurted out, and then wondered why. She’d never told anyone all of it.

“They left because of your sister?”

“She was a year younger than me, and she died when I was five. We were best friends. When they told me she was gone, I couldn’t be consoled. I cried for days. Then, one day, I was looking through my mother’s things, and I found a mirror. I’d never seen myself in one before, and I wanted so badly to see my sister’s face.” She had to swallow a painful lump in her throat. “It was the first time I changed. My face became hers. I was only five, and for a moment, I thought I had brought her back to life in the mirror. I called my mother and she… She was terrified.”

She’d gone ashen and fainted. Leisa had panicked and tried to revive her, then gone after her father, who predictably, acted as though he’d seen a ghost.

“My parents were so upset. Or maybe just scared. I was too young to tell. I only know that they pleaded and cried for me to change back, and I tried. I tried so hard. I tried for days, and then in a moment of frustration, I broke the mirror.”

Her eyes closed, recalling her own panic. “By the time my mother was able to buy a new one…” The words stuck in her throat, forcing her to whisper. “I couldn’t really remember what I looked like. At least, not enough to change back.”

Silence fell over the campsite, but for the crackle and hiss of the flames. The Raven was silent as Leisa battled her tears and eventually held them back.

“So I hate it,” she said finally. “I’ve stolen my sister’s identity, and I bought my magic with the loss of my family. It’s always seemed to me like a useless trick that left me alone in the world, without even a face to call my own. At least until I can find my parents and ask them if that was why they left me. So for now, I live in the palace, and I try to be useful. Try to repay King Soren for taking me in. And I only ever use my magic in the service of Farhall. If there is a true need.”

After the pause that followed, Leisa heard a sigh. “There is nothing more human than treating magic as though it can be fixed or should be punished. Magic is simply another way of seeing and interacting with the world. A part of you—neither good nor bad, and certainly nothing to be ashamed of. You were only a child. Someone should have taught you, guided you in discovering your gift, not punished you, or silenced you for possessing it.”

He did not condemn her. Maybe it was only because he needed her, but his acceptance was still a relief.

Though there was still one question that continued to nag at her. “You keep calling me ‘human,’” Leisa said finally. “Why?”

The Raven let out a brief, mirthless chuckle. “I suppose it is unfair to ask for promises until you know the truth of who you are aiding.”

“No,” she countered firmly. “That’s not why I asked. Don’t judge us all by Garimore’s standards.”

A sigh escaped him. “Even outside of Garimore, I suspect my welcome would be harsh.”

Leisa made a dismissive sound. “You’re not judging me for who I am, so why should I judge you? Maybe you should tell me the truth before you make up your mind about how I’m going to react.”

“You’re still barely able to sit up,” he said coolly. “I would rather not frighten you to death by showing you my face. Perhaps we can discuss this again in the morning.”

But Leisa didn’t want to wait. She was already awake, already nervous. She would never be able to sleep with his vague hints turning over in her mind, so she decided to prove him wrong and rose to her knees.

The world spun in circles again, and she would have tipped over if he hadn’t moved more swiftly than humanly possible and caught her by her shoulders.

Than humanly possible…

She looked up into the shadows of his hood and found the banked glow of his eyes watching her warily.

“Just tell me,” she whispered.

She might have been afraid, but he was touching her, so she felt his reluctance through their link. Felt his fear of her rejection. Fear that she would refuse to help him if she knew the truth.

So while he knelt there in front of her, holding her shoulders in that gentle but unbreakable grip, she reached up, slowly, giving him every chance to pull away or object.

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