Page 66 of Storm of Shadows

I open it wider to show him all the orbs humming within. “This one is a bundle of a food,” I say, picking up one and holding it out. I replace it and select another. “And this one is a spare pair of boots.”

“And all those other orbs are completely different things? By the Mother, you must have nearly two dozen of them in there!” He holds out his hand, his fingers tentatively hovering over the orbs. “May I?”

“Sure.”

His fingers brush over a few orbs. His frown hasn’t lessened, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I wonder whether he’s ever felt aether before and whether it feels as foreign to him as light magic feels to me.

“Did you say this one was a spare pair of boots?” He points to an orb. I nod and he continues, “How can you tell which is which? All I can feel is tingling. Like lightning.”

“How can you know what lightning feels like?” Caya scoffs, sprawling out on the padded blanket next to Taria’s. The priestess has already assumed a meditative position, her eyes closed and her hands folded on her lap, oblivious to our conversation. “You’ve never been struck by it.”

“All right then,” Juron says. “It feels like how I imagine lightning would feel.”

Caya shrugs and doesn’t seem to have an argument for that. She reclines on her blanket. Natharius sits a few paces away with his back to us. He has said little since we left Esterra City, and tonight is no different. Though I by no means miss the demon’s company, it feels odd to interact so little with him after having to endure countless days of his endless taunts and threats. In comparison, the company of my new allies feels like a breath of fresh air.

Zephyr swoops down and makes himself at home on my blanket, deciding to curl up in the middle of it. I shake my head at him, knowing I’ll need to move him later, but say nothing and turn back to Juron.

“I suppose aether must feel like lightning,” I say, though the only lightning I’ve ever experienced is that which I’ve conjured from aether. I’m not sure whether my magic feels like real lightning, but I suppose Juron is right. The fizz and crackle of aether can only be described as lightning. “And as for being able to tell which is which,” I continue, “I’m simply able to sense them.”

That doesn’t seem to appease Juron’s curiosity. “Sense them? How?”

“I just know, in the same way you know whether something is warm or cold when you touch it,” I reply. “It’s only because I’m the one who cast the spell, though. If I were to touch another mage’s, then I’d only feel the hum of aether like you did.”

Juron nods at that and judging by the fact he asks no further questions, my answer must be satisfactory enough.

He starts over to his blanket on the other side of Taria but stops and frowns when he reaches it. “Here,” he says, gesturing to his blanket. “You should have mine.”

“I’m all right, thank you,” I reply. “I already have one.”

“Yours isn’t very thick.”

“Honestly, I’ll be fine with this one.”

Juron doesn’t look convinced. “You need to rest more than I do.” He doesn’t say why, but I know he’s thinking of how riding all day has exhausted me. On the last break we took, it was a struggle to climb back onto my saddle, and it was only through sheer willpower that I succeeded. I refused to injure my dignity by someone having to lift me onto my saddle. Natharius’s eyes burning into my back also provided me with an extra dose of motivation.

“Really, I promise I’m fine.”

Juron opens his mouth to say something, but Caya cuts him off.

“Oh for Light’s sake, Juron,” she says with a sigh. “Leave the poor girl alone. She said she’s fine, all right?”

Juron looks like he’s about to protest, but then seems to think better of it and clamps his mouth shut and slumps onto his blanket.

“Don’t worry,” Caya continues, “he’s like this with everyone. It’s a persistent problem.”

“No, it’s not,” Juron protests.

She casts him an exasperated look. “Have you already forgotten about the rats?”

Juron lowers his gaze, his ears burning.

I arch a brow at Caya, and the corners of her lip curl up.

“When we were nine, Juron decided to save and raise three baby rats,” she explains. Juron doesn’t look up as she speaks. “Never mind the fact that we were starving on the streets and couldn’t even feed ourselves.”

“Oh,” I reply, not sure what else to say. Only now do I realize what a privileged upbringing I’ve had, even if all of it has come crashing down around me. If only I realized at the time and savored every moment. Never did I have to go hungry or fear freezing on the streets. My greatest concern was passing classes with the least effort required. Perhaps all this is retribution for my shortcomings.

I dearly hope Caya won’t ask me to share my background, though I wonder how much she knows. How much has the Mother Goddess shared with Taria, and how much has the priestess shared with the twins?

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