Page 62

“He came out of the forest over there.” Theo pointed.

“I wondered where he was?” she said. “Checking over the hill on the confusion spell, maybe? Gus told him it wasn’t working anymore.”

“Maybe.” It would explain why he had been moving with such difficulty. It had to be a mile at least, up and down hill from here to the clearing in the forest.

“That’s his house, the stables, his prison,” Melodie murmured, looking at the three buildings grouped together. “So what’s the purpose of the one he’s taken Viviane to? His workshop?”

His workshop? That sounded all too possible. And frightening.

Because a man like that worked on nothing good.

CHAPTER 25

Marchant proddedher down a path toward a wooden building set away from the others and Viviane kept her body upright and moved faster so he wouldn’t touch her as often.

She had known this was coming.

He’d already told them he would have to work out where most of their magic was coming from, and she’d guessed that wasn’t going to happen in the prison cells.

He said he could see magic in people, but obviously not easily, or he would know just by looking at them.

But she’d been thinking of a way to fool him, and after he’d burst in, checking to see they were still in the cells, and then disappeared again, she’d begun to braid her hair.

Her actions had gone virtually unnoticed by the others as they spoke quietly about ways to escape.

She’d woven a spell into the braid that would hopefully hide her magic. Her mother had taught her how to braid protection into her hair before, but she had never tried to make her magic invisible. She had never considered anyone could see the magic in her.

She had learned from her mother how to weave or stitch invisibility into cloth. If she could make herself invisible, maybe she could do the same to her magic.

When she was done, she’d offered to braid Genevieve’s hair, and had done the same to her.

There was no braiding the boys’ hair. They wore their hair short, like her father.

He had set the trend amongst his soldiers, although he made no rules about how they should wear it.

Because of their close alliance with the Venyatux, who wore their hair in long, complex braids, man or woman, any style went in the Kassia and Cervantes military. But most, especially the new recruits, modeled their look on her father, who wore his hair short, so no one could get a handhold on it.

It was a pity, but there was nothing she could do and the boys were not as magical as she was. Or, she didn’t think so.

Even though she was being taken somewhere on her own, she enjoyed stretching her legs after days of being chained to a wall, but the gravel was rough on her bare feet, and she winced as Marchant gave her another little shove to hurry her along.

“In,” he said when they reached the door, and then gave her a little push over the threshold.

She stepped in and he locked the door behind them.

They were instantly plunged into darkness and she stopped dead.

Just before he’d closed them in, she’d caught a glimpse of a table, what she thought might be more chains on the wall, and some other equipment she hadn’t the time to identify.

She heard the scrape of a match, and light bloomed behind her.

The chains were very real. And it made her chest tighten so much, she could barely breathe.

Marchant skirted around her, still holding the chain he’d set around her wrists when he’d unlocked her from the shackles she shared with Gen, and when she saw he was not carrying a light, she realized he must have lit a small sconce on the wall by the door.

She stood still, trying to make out everything she could through the gloom, but the chain stretched out to its full length and he jerked her forward.

Her standing still jerked him a little, as well, and it must have hurt him, or caused him pain where he was injured.