Page 21 of The Dark Mage
H is room was as small as hers, so they sat together on his bed. She tried not to think about the last time she had been in bed with a man—about Esrin and the dangerous hate filling her empty heart. Even deeper, she buried the feeling of rightness—the comfort that sharing space with Fael cre ated.
“I have an idea,” Fael said softly, his voice low in case anyone passed outside. “It’s tricky, but we could do good—maybe a lot of good—for those who’ve been affected by the em pire.”
He wanted to interfere with the em pire?
“I’m listening,” she encour aged.
“I want to find others with magic.” His powerful hands opened on his lap as he turned to her, inviting her into the plan. “We can help those in hiding and try to save the ones who have been captured. We could interfere with imperial scouts and troops to keep magic from being discov ered.
“Imperial guards repeat the lies they’re fed, keeping people misinformed and confused.
With our powers combined, I think we could overwhelm enforcement teams and free captives.
And in between, we could work in villages—earn money or lodging while we travel south.
We could remind people that magic can be good. ”
“South?” she asked. “Why s outh?”
He exhaled and ran his hands through his hair, a gesture she was beginning to recognize as an internal ba ttle.
Then, in a rush of breath, he told her, “I want to end the Ashkren Em pire.”
Ren’wyn started, stepping away as her breath hitched. He couldn’t be ser ious.
Fael’s voice dropped further, steady and fierce.
“I want to go south to Riva and find a band of outlaws. I want to sail to Anduan and rally their forces. I want to march across the world to Kareht and call on the exiled leaders in the Steppes. But no rebellion will ever succeed unless we take the Cap ital.”
Ren’wyn frowned. “The Capital is untouchable. Every uprising in history has fa iled.”
He nodded grimly. “Because of the Vein of K ings.”
At that, Ren’wyn stilled. Everyone knew about the Vein, but few spoke of it.
Even deeper buried was the truth of the city once called Nymorian and the ancient stronghold ruled long ago by the Valdris kings and queens, a stone fortress seated high on a cliff above the waters of the Vein.
The hidden knowledge was whispered at Spyre during history classes, centuries-old information whose records were long ago burned by the first Ashkren emp eror.
“The empire isn’t strong because of its armies alone,” Fael continued.
“They control the water. The Vein of Kings is the source of every major river on the continent, and the imperial palace practically inaccessible on its edge. If a city rebels, they cut the water supply. If a war drags on, they outlast their enemies because they never go thirsty. Every trade route, every farm, every kingdom relies on water that the Capital cont rols.”
Ren’wyn’s stomach twisted. “That’s why no rebellion has ever lasted. The empire doesn’t just break armies. It starves them.”
Fael nodded. “Exactly. You don’t defeat a power like that by swinging a sword at its gates. You take the Vein.”
The weight of his words settled between them. Ren’wyn had studied war, but she had never considered this.
“You think we could take it?” she asked, voice barely above a whi sper.
His hazel eyes burned. “We hav e to.”
“I want to rebel,” he whispered, standing and stepping closer until they were a hand’s breadth apart.
His magic prickled along her arms, creating goosebumps, as he spoke against her ear.
“The world needs to be free of the lie that our magic is evil. I’ve been watching it kill us—our families, the natural order of things—for fifteen years, and I can’t watch any lo nger. ”
Fael’s intense words were warm against her hairline.
He must have been considering this for a long time, though her involvement was clearly a new addition.
Fighting, danger, strength of body and mind—none of these belonged to her.
He wouldn’t ask if he knew how insignificant she truly was—how she never managed to do anything right.
Better to settle somewhere she could live simply and qui etly.
Look how hoping for a simple, safe life turned out, a small voice deep inside her protested.
Hiding your magic, a gift that you love with every fiber of your being.
Putting all your hope in Esrin to save you.
He never came for you, and you were handed off to Erst like a belonging. You almost died run ning.
But she had survived and chosen a new path. She was chasing freedom for herself, and she would never go back. So many others must want the same, and Fael believed in her enough to ask for her help.
“I’m not sure what I can do,” she replied. “I’m not sure what I am yet. At school, I had a place, but I’ve lived so long in hiding that I’m not sure how to be free. I’m not sure I’m worth much at all.”
A heavy silence settled over them as Fael stepped back and studied her. Tilting his head in assessment, he took her hands in his own and gave them a gentle squ eeze.
“You are worth far more than you know,” he said confidently. “You are more powerful than I thought. We’ll have to face danger, but I can show you how and defend you when you need it. Help me, Ren’wyn. Help me free our world and the people who so desperately need it. Help me restore m agic.”
His words stunned her. No one had believed in her since Peria.
Her Masters had believed in her as well, but they lived in Spyre’s safety.
Fael’s confidence planted itself inside her, and that quiet voice deep within sang its approval.
This would mean choosing her own purpose and goals alongside him. Per haps…
“I will do what I can,” she agreed breathlessly. “I’ll fight with you, and we’ll right what we can in this w orld.”
Fael squeezed her hands, his eyes alight. “We’re going to have to do something about money and lodging. I don’t know if we can stay here in Delmor. I’ll look around for work.”
“And me?” she a sked.
“For now,” he replied, “get a little more rest. Tomorrow, we can look for more work or travel into the countryside if neces sary.”
He gestured toward the door, and Ren’wyn realized she could use a nap. That lovely little bed in her room called invitingly. Fael reached around her for the doorknob, his hand brushing her hip. She didn’t flinch, but the touch sent a static charge through her.
When he opened the door, a maid stood on the landing. Her eyes widened as she looked between them, then glanced away, blus hing.
“Hmmmm…” Fael muttered, humor lacing his tone. “We might need to do something about that. Don’t want anyone presuming too much about our connec tion.”
The electricity from his touch lingered, spreading into her stomach. His honesty, his belief in her, and the hope of a future had eased her concerns. Deciding she could play along, she smirked over her shoulder as she sauntered to her room.
“Or maybe we should distract them with gossip about our bedroom activities so they don’t think about anything else? You could come to my room later, and we could jump on the bed.”
She could have sworn she heard those confident feet stumble ever so slig htly.
Fael returned for supper looking exhausted.
Ren’wyn hated to see him so tired, but she smiled and sat beside him to eat.
She’d napped for an hour, the warm sun on her face chasing away nightmares.
Afterward, she had stretched, spent a long time plaiting her hair, and wandered the main square.
The smell of fresh bread from the bakery and the sight of colorful dresses in shop windows had lifted her spirits, even though hers was clearly the least expensive version of the s tyle.
Supper was simple—vegetable and chicken soup, rolls, and hard cheese. Summer strawberries were served last, and Ren’wyn sighed with pleasure as she bit into one. Fael watched her savor the ripe, red berries. When she finished, his gaze seemed almost sensual—until he lau ghed.
“You’re a mess,” he teased, tossing her a na pkin.
She answered with pursed lips and an exaggerated eye roll before plastering on the kind of pretty smile born of years of groo ming.
“A lady is never a mess,” she retorted, wiping her face clean before breaking into laughter alongside him.
“How was your afternoon?” she asked as a server arrived with more soup.
“Unproductive,” he admitted with a grimace. He hesitated, then added, “I’m afraid there might be no work here fo r us.”
With a secretive lift of her eyebrows, Ren’wyn dropped a heavy purse onto the table. Fael’s eyes widened with appreciation and curio sity.
“I took my ghost pipes to the apothecary,” she explained, pride lighting her voice. “I gave him four stems, and he paid me fifty gold marks. Though I was surprised he had that much, considering the state of his grubby shop.”
Fael picked up the bag and weighed it appraisingly. He gave a low whistle of appr oval.
“Very good, Ren’wyn!” he said, the compliment warming her chest. “Aren’t you the clever businesswoman? I should stay and nap next time.”
Ren’wyn felt a familiar uncertainty gnawing at her as she considered her inexperience with finances and planning. She bit her lip.
“Did something happen?” Fael asked, his brows knitting at her expres sion.
“No,” she said quickly. “Nothing like that. I was hoping this might provide for us. I’ve never handled much money myself, and I hated finances at school.
I passed household management with flying colors, so I have some idea of what expensive meals and new linens cost. But when it comes to travel arrangements, I’m out of my d epth. ”
He considered the small fortune she had acquired. “Fifty gold marks will keep us comfortable until we find work. If you’re happy, I think we should keep our current arrangements here and make plans as w e go.”
She nodded her agreement, and they finished their meal in contented sil ence.