Page 43 of Court of Treachery

“Yes,” Harper said with relief. She willed herself to calm down. They did not know of her other vision.But ought she tell them? Once upon a time, she would have found it far-fetched to claim, but she was slowly beginning to accept that in Pelenor, the ridiculous was true more often than not. And yet if she told them, it would create such a rift between them when she had only just started to feel secure in her growing friendship—and place in their group. Already, a gulf had begun to grow between her and Aedon. After what had happened, he had stepped back, his friendliness strained. She had no idea how Brand felt. Itwas clear Erika hated all Saradon stood for, though Harper still had no idea why. Harper didn’t need Erika to like her any less, Harper thought, suppressing a snort.

“Let’s not delay then,” said Brand. “Let’s see this vision, and go train. We’ll need every ounce of strength we have to survive a horde of goblins.” He cracked his neck. “I need to smash some steel.”

In the privacy of their quarters, they sat on the floor, cross-legged, hands interlaced. Aedon’s magic mingled with Harper’s and teased out the vision—but she kept theothervision tightly locked away.

“I will be glad when he is with us once more,” Brand said heavily after the vision faded. “Let’s go. Ragnar needs us to be as strong as we can for him.” Erika and Aedon jumped up to fetch their weapons, but Brand grasped Harper’s wrist as she rose, halting her. “You’re not yourself. What’s wrong?” he asked in a low voice as the others left. His gaze searched hers, but she dropped her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said.

“I will not ask again, Harper. You can trust me. Whatever it is. You are one of us now. To compromise you is to compromise all of us.”

Harper squirmed in his grasp.

“Distraction could mean failure. Ragnar is counting on us.”

She swallowed. “There was another vision.”

“What was it? It must have been grave to disturb you so.”

Harper nodded, pleading eyes raising to Brand’s. “You mustn’t tell anyone else. Please.”

“I swear it, unless it will harm any of them.”

“It won’t,” she said quickly. “I… I found out who my mother is. Or rather, was.”

Brand waited expectantly.

Her voice was so quiet, he had to lean closer to hear her. “My mother was Ilrune of the House Ravakian. Saradon’s own granddaughter.”

Brand’s hand slipped from her wrist and he stilled with predatory grace. She felt the weight of his full attention crash upon her. “It cannot be.”

Hot tears pricked Harper’s eyes. “It is. I saw her die. I saw her send me to Caledan.” She shook her head, trying to shake away the memory of the dragonfire as it obliterated all. Her hands trembled as she closed her palms over her eyes—unable to spare herself reliving it again.

“Skies above,” swore Brand quietly, as the others returned noisily from their rooms. Harper sniffed and straightened, wiping her face clear of any expression that could betray her secret to them. His lips thinned. “Speak no more of this now. Later.”

Relief bloomed in her. Head low, she raced off for her own knife and sword, not meeting Aedon’s or Erika’s gaze. But Brand stared after her and she felt the weight of his brooding upon her retreating back. She hoped she was right to trust him.

35

HARPER

For the rest of the day, they trained at full pelt in the training pit near the armoury. Harper was glad for the distraction. They pushed until every muscle screamed and her mind dulled with fatigue. She had reluctantly partnered with Aedon that day, and he was unusually distant with her. It left her like swirling water, confused and unsettled. Hadn’t they agreed to be nothing more than friends? She hated the awkwardness that hung between them.

She pushed all thoughts of Aedon and that kiss to the back of her mind, as difficult as it was with the heat of his body so close as they locked in mock battle time and again. Instead, she relished practising, using magic with her blade, charging the dead metal with speed and accuracy, even flames and lightning… much to the delight of the watching dwarves. She now realised the truth of Aedon’s insistence that magic was instinctive. It was like a warm river flowing through her. She only had to will it to harness it. The limit was her own strength, dictating how much or how long she could channel it.

“We’ll stop there for now,” Aedon said, though he was only breathing slightly more heavy than normal.

“I can continue,” insisted Harper. The magic made her feel alive, exhilarated, and buoyed her strength and agility.

“It’s best that we do not push you too much too soon. Not with what is at stake.”

“What happens if you do?” Harper asked as she lowered her blade and let the magic fade away. Glowing blue flame along the dagger faded into nothing.

Aedon lowered his own long, slim blade. “The magic will suck the very life from you, and you die.”

Chills flooded Harper. Before her, she did not see Aedon anymore, but Ilrune crumpling to the ground.It wasn’t the dragon that killed her. She used everything she had… to save me.

“Harper?”