Frozen Tides
Page 12

Lucia regarded him with awe at the sheer number of possibilities this presented. “Honestly, I’ve never experienced anything like that. It sounds far too good to be true. I mean, I have Eva’s magic, but I’m not immortal like her.”
“Mortality has nothing to do with it, really.” Kyan polished off what was left of his third bowl of soup. “However, you are correct that you’re sixteen years old and Eva was ancient and ageless. You’ll need a lot of practice before you’ll be ready to wield this power without any serious difficulties.”
She frowned. “Difficulties? Like what?”
“Best to show rather than tell.” He nodded at the approaching barmaid. “Try this new gift on her. Capture her gaze. Will your deepest magic into her as if it’s a substance she will breathe in, and have her tell you a guarded truth.”
“That’s about as clear as mud.”
He spread his hands. “I can’t do it, myself. I’ve only seen it done. But I know it’s within you. You should be able to feel it rise up and flow through your every pore.”
“Well . . . I can light candles by just looking at them.”
“Like that simple magic, yes. But more. Deeper. Bigger. More epic.”
More epic? She rolled her eyes, equally exasperated and fascinated by everything he said. “Fine. I’ll try.”
The ability to pull the truth from anyone’s lips was a skill far too tempting to ignore. It would be so useful in countless ways.
The barmaid arrived at their table and slid another steaming bowl of soup in front of Kyan. “There you go, handsome. Can I bring you anything else?”
“Not for me. But my friend has a question for you.”
The barmaid looked to Lucia. “What is it?”
Lucia took a deep breath and locked eyes with the woman. It had become effortless to use the magic she’d grown accustomed to, but this had to be different.
Show me the way, Eva, she thought. Let me be like you.
While the amethyst ring she now wore on the middle finger of her right hand helped control the more beastly and uncontrollable parts of her elementia, she still felt that swirl of darkness down deep inside of her. An endless, bottomless ocean of magic, all contained within her. It was as if she could see that magic—a magic whose surface she’d only skimmed.
Awakening the Kindred had meant tapping into this swirling ocean. Lucia had dove into it so deeply she’d nearly drowned.
She needed to go there again, to that deep, dangerous place. This was not lighting a wick with a flame. This was not levitating a flower or healing a scratch or turning water to ice.
The deep, dark magic within her blended together and formed into the shape of a dagger. Lucia envisioned pressing this black dagger to the barmaid’s throat.
“Tell me your darkest secret—the one you’ve never told anyone else.” Lucia spoke the words, a whir of echoes all around her, and forced them into the woman’s mind.
“I . . . uh . . . what?” the barmaid sputtered.
Lucia inhaled deeply and pressed that invisible dagger closer to the woman’s throat. “Your darkest secret, speak it now. Don’t resist.”
A violent shudder shot through the barmaid, and blood began to trickle from her nose. “I . . . I killed my baby sister when I was five years old. I smothered her with a blanket.”
Stunned, Lucia fought to hold on to her concentration. “Why would you do that?”
“She . . . she was sickly. My mother spent all her time with her and none with me. I was ignored. So I got rid of her. I hated her and never regretted what I did.”
Lucia finally broke eye contact with the barmaid, disgusted by the confession. “Leave us.”
The woman absently wiped her bloody nose, then turned and quickly scurried away without another word.
“Well done.” Kyan nodded. “I knew you could do it.”
“The magic causes them pain,” Lucia observed. “Not me.”
“Only if they try to resist. Eva had such great control over the power that no one resisted, and no one was harmed. You’ll grow stronger in time.”
A little blood wasn’t anything to get squeamish about. This ability was worth the price that had to be paid, but Lucia decided right then that she’d use her truth powers sparingly. Some truths were not meant to be known.
But some most certainly were.
“What she confessed to us,” Lucia said, her thoughts swirling. “It reminded me of a secret of my own.”
“What?”
“When I was a baby, I was stolen from my cradle by a witch working for King Gaius. I know my birth mother was killed, but I know nothing about my real father.” She hesitated. “If he’s still alive, I want to find him. And I want to know if I have any sisters or brothers.”
Just considering the possibilities of having her real family back gave her new life, and an oddly giddy sense of hope.
Finished with his meal, Kyan stood up from the table and offered Lucia his hand. “I will help you find your family. I promise I will.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t stop the smile that began to stretch across her face. “Thank you.”
“It’s truly the least I can do for you, my little sorceress, after all you’ve already done for me.”
Lucia reached into her cloak, pulled out a bag of coins, and placed a silver one on the table to pay for their meal, her mind still reeling from this new and powerful discovery.
A bald man with a short black beard approached their table, smiling. “Good evening to you both.”
“Good evening,” Kyan replied.
He rested the edge of his dagger on the table. “I’m not one for formal introductions, so let me get right to the point. I’m very interested in that pretty bag of coins you were just waving about. How about you give it to me, and then all of us can leave this public house unharmed?”
Lucia regarded him with disbelief. “How dare you insult me,” she hissed, lurching up to her feet.
He laughed. “Sit down, little girl. And you too,” he said, looking fiercely at Kyan.
“Lucia,” Kyan said calmly, taking a seat again. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.” In the space of a heartbeat, Lucia had grown ready to peel the skin from this loathsome thief one inch at a time for this insult.
“Oh, you’ve got some fire in you, don’t you?” The thief’s loathsome gaze slid over her open cloak as he nodded with leering approval. “I like pretty young girls with fight in them. Makes it more interesting.”
“Kyan,” Lucia snarled. “Can I kill him?”
“Not quite yet.” Kyan leaned back in his chair and pressed his palms down against the table, looking completely at ease. “See, Lucia? This is a perfect example of what I was talking about before. Mortals have so much potential, but they lust after such base, unimportant things. A few pieces of gold or silver, meaningless sex. Small symbols of power or momentary pleasure. Immortals aren’t any better. It disgusts me.” He looked up at the thief and shook his head. “If you’d only ask for help, we’d give it to you. Are you hungry? Let us buy a meal. I do recommend the barley soup they have here.”
The thief eyed him. “As if you’d actually help a stranger.”