I take the boots from her. “Thank you.”
She nods and rejoins the other warriors preparing the camp. My eyes burn as I stare down at the boots. It might not seem like much to others, but it’s huge to me—the consideration she showed me.
After I finish my dinner, Hector leads me to my tent. Like the night before, he shackles my leg to the post.
I bite the inside of my cheek instead of lashing out at him. Nothing I say will matter to him. So, I lie mute with my arms bound and my leg leashed to the post. Until I accept this role I must play, he will keep binding my hands together, and he will keep giving me a lumpy mattress to sleep on.
“Where did you get those?” He nods at the boots I still clutch in my hands.
“The red-haired female warrior.”
“Quinn?”
“Is that her name?”
“Yes.”
The mattress sags as I shift enough to set the boots beside my mattress. Tomorrow, I will wear them and thank Quinn as soon as I have the opportunity.
“That was kind of her.” He walks to the only torch and pulls it from its sconce. He never leaves me any light to chase away the nightmares. He probably thinks I’ll burn down the entire camp.
“There’s something you must know about Bloodstone magic. It always takes something in return,” Hector says, his words even, yet they rip me apart.
We shouldn’t even need to have this conversation.
“What do you mean?” I ask after several moments of insufferable silence.
“Like those Malachites. You cursed nineteen of them by draining the essence of the twentieth man. So, if you curse something or someone, you must be prepared to take the life of something else.”
“That’s terrible.”
Amber light from the torch quivers over his features as he shrugs. “It’s the way Bloodstone magic works.”
Maybe it is, but I have no desire to cast Bloodstone magic again. It was one time, and I’ll never repeat it.
“Does a curse always take a human life?” Material brushes against my fingers as I twist my blanket.
“No.” He shakes his head. “It can take from anything living. Like a tree, a flower, or a mouse. The stronger the curse, the higher the cost. But as your magic strengthens, you will require less to draw from.”
Maybe that explains the forest surrounding Mildred’s cottage. Everything was dead. She must have had powerful magic forty summers ago to raze the land so badly.
I pull my knees forward and wrap my arms around them. “Do you want magic, Hector?”
He drums his fingers against his weapon belt. “For my people, yes.”
“But not for yourself?”
“I’m content as I am,” he says with sincerity, though I doubt the validity of his words.
If he were content, he wouldn’t be leading me to the cave of reflection.
I won’t go.
I won’t help them.
“Why do you want to give your people dark magic?”
Shadows obscure his eyes as he frowns. “You’re under the belief that all Bloodstone magic is evil. It is not.”
