Page 13 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

A frustrating development, especially with King Evaniel’s order that we should set out today ringing in my ears. Would he consider meeting at the inn to discuss our plans as following his instructions? If word reached him that I’d only made it just outside the city limits, would he revoke his support of this mission and destroy my dreams of safety?

My stomach twisted at the idea, but I did my best to quash those fears. I’d needed time to prepare, as had Cammon. I knew roughly where the first two landmarks were. We could make a strong start even if we were delayed a single day.

As for what came after…

I’d barely slept last night thinking about what I might face in the weeks to come. What the likely pitfalls to keeping my secret would be, what dangers we might encounter. Going on foot as we were, there was also the chance we’d run into wild animals, bandits, bad weather. Cammon would be on hand to help with the first two, but how useful would I be? I couldn’t defend myself because doing so would give me away. Instead, I’d have to stand by and appear weak, and the necessity made my self-respect rage.

Knowing it was useless, I held my hand out in front of me and attempted to summon a flame into my palm. The faintest hint of magic prickled under my skin, but although my temperature rose, nothing else happened. I snapped my fingers, praying for the tiniest spark that could at least be used to start a fire, and nothing.

I dropped my arm and kicked a rock lying on the road, cursing at the pain in my toes.

No wonder Cammon looked at me like I was a waste of his time. All this power running through me, and no way to use it.

But he was mistaken. My ability to speed read a text and discover patterns in the contents was unparalleled on the mages’ council. I carried a dozen books in my pack—a few language reference books, related history and geography texts, and a selection of notebooks I’d filled over my years of documenting everything I’d discovered about Mage Tersey and this amulet. I might not be able to fight, not having the first clue where to begin even if I could draw on my vampirism, but I carried the knowledge we would need to reach our destination. If Cammon didn’t appreciate the importance of that, then he was the waste of my time, not the other way around.

Shaking with preemptive anger, I tried again to summon my magic. This time it surged through me, the winds rose, the clouds darkened, and I tamped my power down before I gathered any more energy. The last thing I needed was to tear apart all these trees and block my way to the inn.

My thoughts wandered from my magic to the half-vampirism that blocked it, to the tiny office in the library, to Spymaster Segrew and the possibility that he knew all about my nature despite my parents’ care never to reveal anything about my father’s bloodline, not even on my birth documents.

One of the reasons I’d fought for my position on the mages’ council had been to keep a closer eye on the person most likely to know the truth. I had to work on the assumption that he did, which meant every decision I made was with the intention of proving he had no reason to wield the information against me.

If I failed to return within four weeks, I might very well give him all the fuel he needed to out me to King Evaniel as punishment for failing the country. If I succeeded, I would have demonstrated not only that I wasn’t a threat to Golthwaine, but also that I was willing to protect it—particularly in ways that had nothing to do with unleashing the full brunt of my magic.

From there, my thoughts spun in a million different directions about every way this mission might end—death by dragon, death by drowning, death by starvation, death by crushed ego. Once in a while, a vision came to me of victory, and I held it close to my heart for as long as I could before it was wiped out by yet another image of me never making it to that return ship.

The sun was brushing against the horizon when the inn came into view. Outside the door, I paused and sucked in a breath. Leaving my apartment this morning, I hadn’t experienced that sense of impending change in striking out on this new adventure, but it hit me now as heavily as a physical weight. The moment I stepped through these doors, my life would start down a path I’d never imagined for myself. Goodbye routine, goodbye structure, goodbye eating and sleeping alone. I would do my best to keep my belongings close and my secrets closer, but I had no way of predicting what trouble I might find.

Fear struck a war drum in my chest, urging me to flee back to safety. But what was safety now? King Evaniel’s warning about making it home in time suggested I wouldn’t be able to return to my usual habits if I retreated.

Going forward was my only option, right into the company of a man who would be able to read my every emotion.

Swallowing a groan, doing my best not to think about the added challenges I might face because of him, I pushed my way inside.

Cammon

VIII

As I’d hoped, the mage didn’t notice me when she stepped into the inn, but any intention I’d had of forming a refreshed opinion of her disappeared with the last of my brandy.

Everything about her confirmed my first impression. This woman was as buttoned-up as a fanatical cleric and had the travelling instincts of a pampered noble. She hadn’t even bothered to dress for the journey, sporting a similar outfit to what she’d worn to my estate yesterday. The ankle-length skirt would keep the bugs off her, sure, but she’d be tripping on every single branch and bush we passed. And in that waistcoat, with the heavily starched cotton shirt underneath, she’d be sweating by the time we reached the end of the road.

The king of this country had roped me to an uptight city girl who likely had never stepped so far into a forest that she couldn’t reach a bottle of wine and a comfy seat by lunch time.

My attention fell on her pack, and I rubbed my brow with a stifled groan. It looked like she’d stuffed her entire apartment in there. Was she bringing a team to help her carry it? Because she better not expect me to share her load.

Along with the bag that bulged at the seams, an entire rolled tent dangled beneath it, with a thick blanket tying everything together. I’d heard of people who went camping in the woods expecting every comfort of home, but I’d never met anyone who practised it. I’d never travelled with anything as sturdy as a tent, and I would stand amazed if it lasted the first few days with the pace I meant to keep.

I wished I had another sip of brandy to wash away my dread of what the coming weeks would bring but accepted it was for the best I didn’t. I might lose my ability to hold my tongue, and wouldn’t that be a great beginning.

“Hey, Buttons—over here,” I called, and kicked myself. Apparently the brandy I’d already consumed had been enough to lower the barriers between my brain and my mouth.

The mage tensed and turned to face me, a flush of indignation creeping up her neck and spreading across her cheeks. I couldn’t help but notice the way her hazel eyes sparked with anger or the way her lips pursed ever so slightly in a fascinating moue.

Gloria walked towards me without the slightest glance at the patrons who’d filled the common room over the course of the evening. She stopped behind the chair across from mine. This close, the flavour of her anger tickled the back of my throat, and I let it linger there like a sip of wine. Not a bad vintage by any means. A little smoky, a touch bitter, but with impressive depth. If she kept this up, I wouldn’t need to worry about becoming emotionally starved on this trip.

I shoved the chair backwards with my foot, pushing it away from the table to give her space to sit. “You may as well take a seat. We’re not leaving until tomorrow. Have a meal, grab a drink, tell me why you thought it necessary to pack half the country for a rough four-week hike. I’m surprised you don’t already have the amulet in there somewhere.”

Her eyes narrowed, their rich green-brown catching the light of the candles flickering in the chandeliers overhead.