Page 62 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame

And found a young woman with dark, gleaming hair and peridot eyes smiling at her. ‘I thought you might be here,’ Wyldaern said.

CHAPTER 26

‘How did you find me?’ Cahra asked. The sun was breaking over the jettied buildings on the quiet streets of Luminaux. Moving from the main road, the kingdom’s pearly shops gave way to small timber-framed homes with cream walls and royal blue criss-crossing beams.

Even the slums were nice here, Cahra thought.

‘I heard you leave,’ Wyldaern said, strolling beneath the low awnings with her hands clasped neatly at her waist. She tilted her face to Cahra, her soft, dark curls falling to one side, the hem of her black robe sweeping forward with each step, brushing against her ankles. ‘I remembered the way you looked at the blacksmith’s from the carriage. It was as though you had spotted a lost love.’

Luminaux and love. Two things Cahra didn’t want to think about.

Wyldaern caught the look on her face. ‘He hurt you,’ she murmured.

Cahra knew who she meant. ‘He did,’ she said slowly, sighing. ‘Thierre misled me, and not for the first time. Learning he was a Prince, not a lord, and that he was engaged…’ She shook her head. ‘I just feel so stupid.’

But then, Kolyath didn’t have royals. How was she to know what to look out for? Cahra could feel her anger rising at the thought. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter any more. We’re leaving soon. I never have to see him again, if I don’t want to.’

‘And do you? Want to?’

Cahra flashed back to Thierre’s lips on hers. As good as the kiss was, and as much as she had wanted it, wanted him… ‘I don’t know.’

Wyldaern nodded. ‘I think I understand.’

Surprise filled Cahra’s face. ‘You do?’

But Wyldaern had a faraway look in her eyes and longing in her voice as she said, ‘The thought of what could be, if only fate had other plans for you.’

She nodded back, wondering if Wyldaern meant her life as a disciple of the Seers. Had the woman had other plans for herself, a love of her own?

They’d arrived at a small garden square where dainty flowers sprung from the earth, their peach and rose-coloured petals frolicking on the ebbing breeze. Around its edges, the garden was dotted with a variety of scrying herbs. One of the parks Thierre had mentioned, Cahra supposed.

She took a deep breath. ‘Wyldaern, there are things I need to ask you.’

The woman’s eyes cleared as she looked at Cahra. ‘I can imagine. Shall we?’ Wyldaern gestured towards the park’s bench, and they sat.

Cahra leaned her elbows on her knees, sorting through her many questions. She almost didn’t know where to start. ‘Do you know what I’m going to say?’

‘Because I am a Seer?’ Wyldaern looked amused. ‘Sadly, no, although I can probably guess.’

Cahra nodded, gathering her thoughts. ‘In Thierre’s carriage, he asked you if a vision led you to us, and you said yes, that it was how you knew his identity. What did you see?’

Wyldaern turned to face her. ‘Cahra, I must be clear. I am not Thierre. I cannot and will not lie or keep secrets from you. But some questions you shall ask of me are best left for She. It is our – the prophecy’s – way of things. Within such bounds, I will answer what I can. So, to your question. A vision did lead me to you, but the Oracle will tell you why.’

Cahra snorted. ‘That’s what Hael said when I had questions.’

Wyldaern straightened. ‘You have spoken with the Reliquus?’

She glanced up, at both Hael’s title and her tone. ‘Since Thierre and I left Kolyath. Why am I having visions of Hael? How are they possible, if he’s trapped inside the capital? And what does this have to do with the longsword I forged for Thierre?’

Wyldaern’s lips were pressed together in a tight line.

‘And you can’t tell me, because the Oracle has to, right?’ She sighed in frustration, rocking back against the park bench. ‘Okay, what can you tell me?’ She thought of Hael. Hael, the unfairly attractive warrior. Hael, the—

Cahra whirled to Wyldaern, forcibly lowering her voice. ‘And Hael is theweapon!How does no one know the weapon is a man?! The way everyone talks about the prophecy and the war to control Hael’stromia, I thought the weapon was a magickal sword that shoots lightning or devours souls or something, not an actual, physicalman!’

‘The Reliquus isn’t a man,’ Wyldaern said slowly.

Cahra slid her a glance, the image of Hael’s muscular torso threatening to burn her cheeks again. ‘He’sdefinitelya man.’