Page 21 of The Wand of Lore

“And expose her to the dangers of the road? Not a chance. Just think if she had been here when the goblins came last night . . .” Gwenneth trailed off with a shudder. “What about you? How is the curse doing?”

Vaylor shrugged and looked away. Gwenneth didn’t drop her gaze, but her eyes narrowed as she watched him.

“You’re in pain,” she said. It was not a question.

He shrugged again.

“Come on. Let’s see it. Show me your leg,” said Gwenneth, and Vaylor obeyed.

The two sank back to the blanket on the ground, and she traced her wand against his calf. The wand felt barely warm against his skin, like a piece of wood from a campfire long after the fire has been extinguished. He shivered as it grazed his leg.

“The curse is spreading fast. We ought to hurry before it’s over your entire body. How is the pain?”

“It’s fine. No need to worry.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who are afraid of admitting when they’re in pain? It’s just information from your body, nothing to fear.”

“It’s a dull ache that seems to get worse in the evenings, and sometimes it hurts to bear weight on it at all.”

“What bothers me is I can’t think of a witch who would be able to channel enough power to cause this much damage. This curse is unusual.”

“And here I was thinking you witches were all-powerful and dangerous.”

“Well, I still wouldn’t advise you to anger a witch, which clearly you have done, and honestly, it’s not hard to imagine how. But it’s much easier for us to channel healing and growth powers than destructive energy. The goddesses take our energy when we cast spells, and the magic always pools in us before it is released, so it can be really taxing to do even basic healing magic, but something like this?” Gwenneth shook her head and traced a finger along his cursed leg. “Someone paid dearly for this.”

Vaylor didn’t respond, but he thought of the women in chains who lined his father’s corridors. The king’s witches tended to be powerful, but they were most powerful when their strength was compounded. Few understood the mechanisms behind the magically enhanced chains, but it was clear that they facilitated the combination of power from several witches, allowing them to cast bigger and darker spells than a single witch could cast alone. Vaylor had to tell Gwenneth about his father and the danger lurking for her in the capital city, but he wasn’t ready yet for her disdain when she learned the truth. He couldn’t bear her disappointment when she learned that Vaylor was a traitor and an unwanted son of a greedy king. It wasn’t a huge omission, as she would almost certainly go to the city even if she knew about the king’s witches. She would never give up the search while her sister was ill, and she would need his navigational guidance no matter what, so he had a little time before they reached the city for him to enjoythisbefore he told her the truth. Whateverthiswas. He could kiss her andbe kissed by her and hold her against him as they rode across the countryside and pretend he was someone better. Someone likable. He would have all the time in the world to go back to being despised as they approached the castle.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, Marvin, we’ll get to the bottom of it. I just know my mother’s wand will help.”

He nodded, but didn’t meet her eyes as he slowly covered the cursed skin of his legs. He hoped she would ask him to wait so she could linger over his naked body, but he knew she wouldn’t. They still had a long way to go, and time was running out for him, and for Gwenneth’s sister. His cock swelled again as he admired the curve of her body, but he donned his tunic. When he turned around, she too was dressed, her red hair back in its tidy braid, her bosom just peeking out of her long dress. She smiled as he handed her breakfast, and they ate in silence.

They were quick to finish, replace their pack on Sir Henry’s back, and mount him for their long day of riding. Just as Vaylor was prepared to click his heels against Sir Henry, Gwenneth stopped him.

“Wait! We have a lot of distance to cover today, and I’d like to get to our next destination before the king’s goblins who captured me last night. Hopefully we can put some distance between us and them. Besides, Sir Henry deserves to have a more enjoyable ride after everything he’s done for us.” She took out her wand and flicked her wrist before Vaylor had a chance to ask her what she was doing. Sir Henry let out a whinny, then took off at a gallop so suddenly that Vaylor nearly fell off.

“Is he magically enhanced to run faster? Why haven’t you been doing that all along?” Vaylor called from behind Gwenneth.

“All magic is costly—the goddesses will take their payment! Before, I didn’t trust you enough to let myself be weakand tired after spell-casting. But now I think you most likely won’t attempt to kill me in my sleep.”

Vaylor’s lips pulled into a wry smile and he held Gwenneth closer to him, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. The faster they reached Bannister, and then Gorenth, the sooner he had to tell her his secret, and the sooner she would go back to hating him again. She let her body relax against his chest and cozy into his arms, oblivious to his growing sense of doom. Her backside rubbed against him with the steady movement of the horse. He clutched her hips and shoved aside the dark thoughts of betrayal brewing in the corners of his mind, and thus they rode all day.

They galloped through the countryside, not stopping at any of the rural villages en route. They paused only briefly to eat and relieve themselves midday, then rode on. Gwenneth was right; even this small spell had cost her, and she rested against him for most of the ride.

The spell was effective though, and they made good time, arriving in Bannister before dusk. Vaylor paused, catching one more whiff of crisp autumn leaves and rich spices (was it cinnamon and ginger?) from her hair before dismounting. He held the reins and guided them through the winding streets of Bannister, which was far larger than either Loews Hollow or even Aldersbridge. The city was lined with cobblestone streets, with towering buildings looming taller than any of the buildings of Loews Hollow. Vaylor glanced back at Gwenneth; as he suspected, her eyes were wide as she took in the city bustling with peasants wearing their hair in the latest styles, merchants’ horses pulling full carts, and children dashing around the legs of adults.

When he turned back around, out of the corner of his eye, he saw eyes leering from under a linen hood and a thin, sharp goatee streaking down a pale, gaunt face. His heart nearlystopped. Greyson. Vaylor’s face darkened as his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. An instant later, the face disappeared back into the shadows. Again, Vaylor glanced back at Gwenneth, but she was still admiring the town with a wide smile creasing her cheeks. Gods, could she look more out of place here? Her wand was still in its place at her side, and she appeared not to have noticed the visitor. Good. He had business with Greyson, and it would be best not to tell Gwenneth. Not yet, anyway, while he still had time to pretend that they were on a friendly journey sharing a common quest.

They entered an inn with a bustling pub at the front, full of boisterous men proffering toasts even before dusk. They found the bony old innkeeper at the bar, and she stepped out to help the couple.

“Married or chaperoned?” she asked, peering down at them over a long, misshapen nose.

“Um . . .” Vaylor paused, unsure how to answer. They weren’t married, but they didn’t need a chaperone, and if they wanted to share rooms, what was it to this curdled old woman?

“We’re not married,” Gwenneth said, interrupting his thoughts.

She frowned, but handed them two separate sets of keys. “They’ll be on opposite sides of the hall. See that you keep it that way. We have a rowdy clientele, but I still keep a respectable institution.”

“Of course,” he muttered, as if he wasn’t mentally bemoaning the fact that they would be sleeping in separate rooms. With Gorenth just a day’s ride away, this could be their last night together. Perhaps it was for the best, though, as he had unseemly errands to attend to. Gwenneth wouldn’t let him carry her pack this time, protesting that she was fine to carry it herself and didn’t want to rouse the ire of the innkeeper.

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