Page 24 of Oracle of Ruin

I open my other palm, allowing the flame to leap to that hand. Unlike my light, it does not wait for command, but jumps before I even think it. I realize with wonder that it is alive. It is alive and yields to me.

“It will last longer because it has fed on the blood from your cut. As a mage, you can sustain it longer without risking your mind.”

Risking your mind.

The flame winks out immediately. A cold chill seeps into my bones and an emptiness settles in my stomach. I reach for that power again, but stop myself when I realize my hand is empty.

Images of my father absentmindedly pacing the throne room enters my head. His hollow eyes flashing as he lay me on that altar. Dark magic stole him from the kingdom, and stole a father from Rowan. A love from Emilie.

“Don’t panic. The sacrifice pays the price for you. So long as you provide sufficient sacrifice, you will not be at risk of becoming… well…” She whistles and smirks. “I’m not crazy yet and I’ve been doing this shit for years.”

Debatable, I think to myself as Mavis produces a stained pouch. She opens the sack to reveal eight other fingers—one thumb, one pinky, two rings, two indexes, and two middles. “For practice.”

“Where’s the ninth?” I swallow that sick feeling in my throat. It is soon replaced by that craving for the warmth the magic had filled me with. The pleasure.

Mavis only smiles.

Chapter12

Rowan

Kya sits on Amír’s lap, her hair mused and dressed only in a robe she found in one of the closets. Amír’s fingers trail up and down her lover’s thigh, occasionally trailing too high, to which Kya nips at her ear. Derrín and my mother excused themselves at the beginning of our meeting to go gather some supplies.

I was reluctant at first to allow my mother to go on a supply raid, but Amír had been quick to remind me that she has now been trained in defense and weaponry—a gift from the lovers to my sanity.

“So last time, you went out and found a naïve woman and brought her home. Now, you’ve found a traitor and again brought him home.” Amír rubs at her temples with her unoccupied hand. “I thought we talked about you bringing home strays?”

Torin flinches at the nametraitor, his loyalty and pride at war.

Blaine advances, but Amír sets her gaze on him.Don’t start, she seems to stay.

“Need I remind you it wasyouwho found both Kya and Mavis? I’d say we are both collectors.”

Amír picks at invisible dirt beneath her nails. “Perhaps.” Her gaze narrows on Torin. “Speak.”

“Tch, she always forgets who the leader is. We aren’t interrogating you.”

“I’d say Blaine already did that,” Kya notes in response.

Torin inhales shakily and gingerly prods at his black eye. A blood vessel ruptured in it, leaving a harrowing red splotch painted across the white. His mouth opens and the full story pours out. The rebels finding them and offering them shelter. Being reunited with Blaine’s mother. Secretly gathering intel from Seb, who has worked his way up to being Ophelus’s second and is feeding him information. Then he turns to me, his eyes bright with new information. “Aiko and Finneas are alive. The rebels found them and they’re bringing them to me. It’ll be a few weeks of travel, but I thought you and Vera should know. I know you all are close.”

My head swivels towards the door to find my mother’s shaking hands dropping the supplies she and Derrín had found to the floor. She smiles widely and embraces Torin.

Amír rolls her eyes and murmurs under her breath. “So I guess we are just okay with him now?”

“Hush, love.” Kya pecks her lips. “Don’t sour it.”

I step back towards the shadows, allowing them to cling to my skin and cover my trembling hands.Alive. They found them. Not their bodies. Not even their remains.Them. Alive. My eyes mist and I wipe at them with the back of my hand.

Blaine pats my shoulder gruffly. He says nothing.

My mother finally releases the Nevan man while Derrín settles silently into a chair in the corner of the room. He had stolen his twin’s stealth to slip past during the emotional rush. The rickety seat groans beneath his weight. Torin’s attention is dragged towards the sound and his eyes widen.

Blaine mumbles something under his breath.Not again.

Torin approaches the mechanic, his gaze lazily tracing his form. Derrín remains seated. He hardly notices he is being approached until Torin clears his throat.

“We haven’t met yet. I’m Torin.” His voice has lowered to a tenebrous growl I’ve yet to hear from the man, and Blaine rolls his eyes far back into his head.

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