As she lurched into a clearing, and its promise of a break from the oppressive woods, the moon slid behind a cloud, dropping the entire area into darkness. She tripped into a pile of boulders. The physical pain blended with the emotional as the blood pulsed in her ears.
Couldn’t something go her way for once? By the mages, was this day over yet?
It wasn’t just Malkov who had a way to detect magic users, apparently that ability extended to his guards, as well. At least, the one guard with the glowing stone.
She was doomed. Even her shapeshifting couldn’t hide her.
On her side, trying to catch her breath, she brought her traitorous ankle up to rub it. The area was swollen…no doubt the Larimar family physician would tell her to cover it with ice and elevate it for a few days. She bit back a chuckle that faded into a sob.
Lying amidst the dirt and leaves, the evening chill pricked her skin. She pushed into a sitting position, rubbed the last of the tear tracks from her face and pulled the thin material tight.
The cold sliced through the fabric, raising goosebumps on her arms. “Cursed useless cloak,” she muttered. What a waste of money.
Swallowing hard, she stared into the surrounding darkness. Shadows of trees loomed overhead, lighter black against the gloom of the woods. People slept outside all the time, right? It wouldn’t kill her.
Unlike her new husband.
She tucked her knees up under her chin. Wrapping her arms around her shins, she dropped her forehead to her knees as she rocked back and forth.
“What in the name of the mages was I thinking?” She didn’t stand half a chance on her own in the real world. If Malkov figured out where she was going, even the Mage College wouldn’t be safe.
She sniffled and grabbed the pendant she wore, rubbing it between her fingers. Her mother never would’ve condoned this.
A breeze danced through the clearing, driving little icy needles through her cloak. Her body convulsed in a particularly strong shiver. If she didn’t want to freeze to death, she’d have to build a campfire.
The last fire she’d set in the woods had burned half her father’s estate.
Another gust of wind ripped at her cape.
Chewing her lower lip, she rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. She’d have to risk it.
How did one light a campfire without magic? Flames needed things to burn, like sticks and kindling. She gulped.
Standing, she slowly put weight on her injured ankle. Even swollen and throbbing, if she watched herself, it would hold. She circled the edge of the clearing.
Several minutes later, she returned to her campsite with two fistfuls of pine needles and a handful of small branches. She didn’t dare anything bigger, lest she get trapped in another wildfire.
Piling her bounty haphazardly a few feet from a boulder, she limped back to collapse against the rocks. With a flick of her fingers toward the kindling, she sent a portion of her magic toward it. The twigs fizzled, smoked, and then...nothing.
“Come on, come on,” she chanted, shooting wave after wave of flame at the tiny tinder pile. “Please light.”
By the sixth, or maybe the twentieth attempt, a tiny spark caught. A slight curl of smoke wafted up to the sky. She scooted a little closer to take advantage of the fire’s meager warmth.
Elessan perched in one of the trees overlooking the clearing, watching Aliya. He leaned back against the tree branch, at ease in the dark. He sighed as she scurried around, gathering her pitiful excuse for firewood, favoring her right ankle. For now, she seemed content to sit with her knees tucked up under her chin and a thin cloak stretched over her shoulders. She rubbed her arms as she hunched over the paltry fire that offered more smoke than heat. Really, some people were accidents waiting to happen.
Her pursuers wouldn’t find her—he made sure to mask her trail. She wouldn’t know, of course, but she didn’t need to. They were in the middle of nowhere and Aliya’s pathetic sparks wouldn’t reveal her. The night was mild for early spring if one dressed appropriately. But in his experience, humans, especially nobles, were rarely appropriate about anything. Including their clothes. She appeared to be no exception.
He dropped from his tree, careful to stay outside the fire’s light.
“You’re more likely to end up as smoked ham than warm with a fire like that.”
Aliya screamed and jumped, flinging herself back against the boulders.
A warmth spread through his chest at making her jump. He bit back a wicked smile.
She flicked her hand and a lightning bolt exploded at him.
Valek!
