Page 65 of Elemental Affections

He wasn’t there. She checked the rest of the zone, but the trials there hadn’t yet been refreshed. When she asked the researchers assigned to the area, no one had seen him. Dae backtracked, but he hadn’t returned to the tent. Perhaps Garethe had found him. Ezzyn hadn’t mentioned a meeting or any “Restorers” coming to Rhell. Odd, seeing how dutybound he felt about his homeland, but he rarely said anything that wasn’t directly related to an experiment these days.

Thinking she’d take a final look at her last batch for the trial before writing up thorough notes, Dae went back to her test area. At the far end of the row—the opposite end of town from where he’d said to meet—Ezzyn sat in the dirt, surrounded by a pile of spent wards. She sighed, trying to expel her exasperation before she reached him. It was a good thing they were leaving soon. Ezzyn was focused at Sylveren, but not obsessively so as he was here.

“What are you—” Dae’s step faltered as she caught sight of his hands. “Ezzyn, stop!”

Lost in his task, he gave no sign of hearing. His skin had an ashen quality to it despite the light flaring from his hands. Through that light, Dae spied a trickle of red as his skin cracked.

Dae knelt in front of him, gingerly taking his face between her hands. “Ezzyn. You’ve got to stop.”

“I can’t,” he mumbled even as his magic stuttered and went out. He blinked. “Where are your wards?”

“I left them with the team at the south quad. They’re not ready. I’ll work on them more at Sylveren. I want to consult—”

“No! We need them now.” He shook out of her hold. “Shit. I need to check the south—”

“You need to rest. Your hands…” Dae plucked at his sleeve. Cracks spidered across the backs of his hands, trailing bloody lines. “You’re going to kill yourself if you don’t—”

“It doesn’t matter. My hands are fine.”

He’s exhausted. He doesn’t mean it.The flippancy of his words unnerved her. Dae ignored the sense of dread curdling beneath her skin. Tempers were running high all over camp. Ezzyn’s shortness was natural. “Garethe is looking for you. Something about Restorers?”

Ezzyn groaned. “It’s that godscursed Rhell Accord.” He scrubbed at his eyes with a dirty sleeve. “Can you refresh the spells on your wards? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Dae bit back a sigh. They’d achieved a small,smallsuccess. A glimmer of hope that containment was within reach, and if they could secure that, then a resurgence in belief of a cure would follow. But she’d lost some of the heady excitement from that night at the lake. Grown out of her naivete, at least a little. So many questions now shaped her enthusiasm. How to power the wards, how to draw on water to feed the spells long-term without desertification, how toaffordeverything.

“There you are.”

They looked up to find King Jeron striding toward them. Dae scrambled to her feet and bowed. “Your Majesty.”

He gave her a stiff, distracted nod. “The formality isn’t necessary, miss…?”

“Helm. Anadae Helm, Your—er, sir.”

Recognition dawned on the king’s face. “You’re the one Ezzyn’s been talking about.”

“I—” Dae hesitated.

Jeron had already moved on, tugging Ezzyn to his feet, grimacing at his condition. “Swear on the gods, you’re worse than Gaz. The investors are here.”

They bustled off, Dae trailing in their wake. Several new carriages had arrived, all stationed around Den’olm’s meager town hall. They were not simple supply caravans, nor were most of them in the sleek, trim lines of Rhellian design, but the larger, elegant vehicles favored in Grae Port.

A group of mostly Graelynders were gathering outside the hall. Jeron went to them after shoving Ezzyn in the direction of the menders’ tent. He gestured for the group to make their way into the building, voice too low for Dae to hear more than vague noise at her distance.

Before she could go toward her temporary lodging, a voice caught her ear. One tinged with familiarity, her name followed by a too-charming laugh, helped by its tendency to carry.

Dae turned around. She knew that dark blond head, the beard. His voice.

“Anadae!” Brint Avenor waved at her, nudging his companion, an older woman of Radiant Isles descent dressed in the work robes favored at Sylveren. Dae’s hand spasmed in a semblance of acknowledgment. Brint exchanged a few words with the Radiant Isles woman that Dae couldn’t hear before strolling toward her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, voice low.

“Avenor Guard is always open to expanding our horizons,” Brint said. He leaned in to hug her. If he noticed how she stiffened in surprise, he didn’t show it. “Father has a lot of friends involved with the Restorers.”

She supposed that could be true, though his silky reply about the company’s business interests didn’t match her recollection. They were a security company, and while Dae knew protection needs were evergreen, Brint had always resisted her suggestions for involvement in Rhell.

“Avenor, are you coming?”

Turning to face the speaker, Brint’s arm went around Dae’s shoulders as he gestured with his other hand. “Seleste! You remember by old friend, Ana Helm?”

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