Ada had no idea where she was going, but the fire in her blood seemed to be leading her somewhere specific, and she was fairly positive there was a battle wherever that somewhere specific might be. So she pushed the horse hard, giving him his head and ducking low on his back as they tore down the lane.
Coincidentally, or not, in the opposite direction of London.
They left the village behind. In the deepest, darkest hours of the night, they left all semblances of civilization and raced into the thick forest. It was dangerous here, and not because of the war. Highwaymen preyed on lone travelers, Ada had heard. Villagers were constantly asking her father for help in protecting them. As far as she knew, he’d never done it.
But the flames. The flames were calling for the battle that she could only assume was somewhere down the darkened road, perhaps the next village over, perhaps farther, but she wasn’t going to stop until she found it. Her horse, despite having no magical abilities, seemed just as anxious as she was to be free, and he ran like the hounds of Hades were on his heels.
If there were highwaymen, they wouldn’t be able to catch us anyway.
The second the thought entered her mind, she cursed. Fate possessed a cruel sense of humor — whether or not there had been highwaymen ready to attack before, there certainly were now. When she saw the shapes blocking the road ahead, she wasn’t surprised. Or afraid.
Annoyed. But not afraid.
She slowed her horse, since the men were blocking the entire road. Her options were either to crash right into them, or try to go around and crash right into a tree. Neither looked feasible. “Well, look’it this. What a fine specimen of horseflesh.” The cockney accent was so thick, Ada had to strain to understand it.
“Far too fine for the likes of you. Move out of the way,” she snarled.
They erupted in boisterous laughter. Four of them, if there were none hiding in the trees. “And a little girl atop such a big horsey. Come down and play with us, little girl.”
She grit her teeth. Why must she be so small? “Believe me when I tell you that you should really move out of my way before you get hurt.”
More laughter. “What’sa tiny thing like you gonna do to big, brave men like us?” another asked. She couldn’t see their faces clearly in the dark, so she couldn’t be sure which one was speaking. Light would help. With a wicked smile, she sat back on her horse, letting the reins dangle.
Sparks lit at her fingertips.
“Sorcerer!” Now that she could see their faces, she noticed that most of them were missing teeth. One man had only one eye.
She tipped her head sideways, watching them with amused curiosity as they scrambled backward. “I did warn you,” she murmured.
“Please, we mean no harm!”
“Liars.” She moved her hand so quickly it left trails through the blackness. The lirik burst from her hand, shooting toward the man closest to her. Three more followed as he screamed.
Her horse stepped lightly over their writhing bodies, chuffing like he’d enjoyed her attack.
“I am not a little girl,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at them. Their bodies glowed like dying embers in the darkness.
Four more times she left bodies lying in the road, and it did nothing to quiet the hatred in her blood. If anything, it made her more hungry for battle, and as the sun rose she finally left the long stretch of forest and came to the outcroppings of the next town. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten — midday meal the day before, probably. And she had stupidly escaped without any money. “Brilliant, Ada. Absolutely brilliant.” On her father’s lands, the villagers had farms. Farms had food. Food that she could steal. But she didn’t see any farms here. However, if she didn’t eat, she would pass out during battle, and she could feel that the fight was close. So her first priority must be to find food.
The village was still quiet. No one seemed to be awake yet. There was a tavern or an inn of some sort, and the makings of a huge building of some sort in the distance. But no people.
Her father was fascinated by expansion. He had plans to have many grand buildings on his land, but so far he had only been watching and waiting. It would not please him to know their closest neighbors had already started construction.
Beyond that, the village was smaller than her father’s. She loosened her grip on the big black horse’s mane and let him canter down the middle of the road while she studied the buildings — comparing, judging, and wondering if any of them had food. She’d never been this far from home. Unlike many of the other noble families, hers had never traveled. Her father was always too busy. Her mother went to London every season, but she’d never taken Ada with her.
Ada nibbled her bottom lip. Berries? Didn’t people eat berries? She squinted, seeing the dark opening of the thick trees at the other end of the street. This town seemed to have etched itself right out of the forest, but the forest still fought to take its land back. “Let’s go, Horse.” She kicked lightly and he picked up the pace. I should really find out what this horse’s name is. Until then, it shall be Horse.
The sun shone weakly through the trees as they left the village behind. Ada dismounted and fitted the bridle over Horse’s head before she wandered off the path, holding tight to the reins. He followed obediently, stopping to eat the thick grass when Ada paused. “If I were a berry, where would I—” She screeched and leaped back toward Horse as the bushes next to her rustled. Highwaymen she could handle, but what she could not see was much more frightening.
Horse nudged her with his nose, as if reminding her that she was supposed to be a mighty warrior. Hands shaking, she willed the flames to come, feeling just a bit stronger when the sparks lit. She burned the spell into the air and waited for the monster to emerge.
“It is against the law for peasants to hunt on this land,” a voice said from behind her. She screamed again and spun toward the new threat, trying desperately to keep the first threat in sight. Or at least, where the first threat would be if it ever emerged from its hiding spot.
The man who had spoken was obviously aristocracy. The way he dressed was far too fine to be a peasant or even a knight, although he held a bow in his hand. With the other, he held the reins of a beautiful white horse with a black nose and black forelocks. The mane and tail were also black.
She tore her gaze from the horse to check the bushes. Still the threat hadn’t emerged so she glared back at the man. He was much taller than she, probably even taller than Christian. Light brown eyes studied her, slight eyebrow arched in amusement. He was handsome, but not in the way that Christian was beautiful.
“I am not a peasant,” she finally snapped.
His lip quirked. “I can see that.”
“Then why—” Behind her, the monster emerged and she squealed, whirling toward it and shoving the spell. It flew toward the bunny, blasting it into nothing but burnt tufts of fur. “Oh no!” She rushed to where it had been without thinking, but it was too late. She’d killed the innocent bunny.
Behind her, the man laughed.
She glared over her shoulder at him and the laugh died in his throat. “You’re a sorcerer,” he said as he fought to keep the grin from his lips. Fought badly, because Ada could still see it playing around the corners of his mouth.
“Yes.” She rose, brushing off her skirts. She felt awful. She could kill men when they attacked her. But the bunny had done nothing. It hadn’t deserved to die.
“And… why are you obliterating innocent rabbits in my forest? We could have roasted it for dinner, had you not done… that.” He motioned vaguely at the still burning tufts of fur.
Ada frowned. “I was hungry. I thought to find berries.”
The smile died. “Why are you not eating with your family? Where is your family?”
“They are home. In Adlington. I am on my way to battle.” She raised her chin, praying he wouldn’t ask her why she hadn’t brought food on her way to battle.
His eyebrows shot up and he studied her more closely. “You’re the duke’s daughter.”
“Yes. And that’s his horse. And I need to eat before I can be a proper warrior, so if you don’t mind, kindly go about your business.”
He grinned. “My home is not far from here. You may eat with me, if you so desire.”
She did not so desire, but she was starving. And there were no berries in sight. Never mind the fact that she had once heard that eating the wrong berries would kill a person. “I would be immeasurably grateful,” she murmured.
“My name is William Langley. My father is the Earl of Charnock.” He bowed with a smile then offered her his hand. “And you are?”
She ignored his hand and swung herself up onto Horse’s back. “Ada Aleshire of Adlington. My father is the Duke of Adlington, and one of the most powerful Edren sorcerers alive.”
He chuckled, mounting his horse as well. As he led the way out of the woods and back onto the dirt road, he glanced over at her. “We have asked your father for help controlling the highwaymen between our villages and yours. He has never responded.”
Ada smiled grimly. “I don’t believe you need to worry about highwaymen any longer.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he studied her again with those light brown eyes. “You imply that you are more dangerous than you appear.”
“Since I look about as dangerous as that bunny back there, yes. I am more dangerous than I appear.”
He laughed. “I haven’t met many Edren sorcerers who are women. It’s rare, is it not?”
She shook her head, but gave him only half her attention as they rode up to his manor. It was a beautiful house with expansive gardens and a charming courtyard. “No, they are not rare, but most do not fight. It is believed that women are not as powerful as men and will die in battle.”
“But you fight.”
She nodded.
He slid off his horse, handing it to a stable boy. William barely glanced at him, but Ada’s chest contracted. That boy, at her home, would be Christian. Was he worried about her? Did he miss her? She had barely thought about him in her race to find the battle that seemed to be tugging at the flames in her blood, but now she felt like the world was much too dark. The urge to return home was nearly unbearable, but she had to eat first, or she would never make it. For as long as she could remember, she had never missed a meal, let alone two. Her stomach, and the rest of her, was not appreciative.
Blinking, she realized William was offering his hand to help her down. She felt that ever annoying flush creep up her neck, and quickly slid into his arms. “Thank you,” she said, moving away, confused at the way her body responded. She should not have this reaction to anyone but Christian. Christian was the boy she loved, not this strange man who found life far too amusing.
Inside, she reluctantly handed her cloak to the butler at the door. Her gown was muddy, torn, and burned, not exactly fitting in a fine manor that housed no magical people. William smirked, just a bit, before leading her into the first room on their left.
A woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to William sat in the parlor. “Mother, this is Miss Aleshire. I have offered her a meal in exchange for helping with our highwaymen problem. And our rabbit problem.”
William’s mother rose. She was tall, at least as tall as Governess Buttercroft. She had William’s same light brown hair and eyes. “Adlington? And how are you related to the Duke of Adlington?”
Ada glanced away from the rose-colored mahogany furniture and the deep burgundy carpets. Fresh flowers stood in vases on nearly every flat surface and the smell was heavenly. She swallowed, trying again to focus on the woman before her. “He is my father.”
The woman froze in place, eyes widening. “Do you carry his gift then? Are you a sorcerer as well?”
Ada thought about letting her flames loose, at least a bit. But the woman looked positively frightened, and Ada didn’t want to singe the expensive-looking carpets or the beautiful furniture. “Sorceress. Yes. But you have no cause to fear. I’m highly trained and have even been taught how to behave in polite society.”
William burst out laughing. His mother shot him a sharp look before turning back to Ada. “Forgive me, my dear. We have not had the best experiences with the Edren sorcerers.” She held out a pale hand.
“There is nothing to forgive. I’m sorry that you feel that way, but I shall do my best to change your opinion.” Ada took her hand and curtsied.
“Harriet! Set a place at the table for Miss Aleshire,” she called to the servant lurking in the doorway. Ada glanced at her over her shoulder. The girl glared fiercely before she realized they were all looking at her.
What have I done to her to deserve a look like that? Ada tried not to feel wounded, but she disliked being disliked without ever even being introduced. And then she caught sight of the look the girl gave William, and she understood. She wished she could pull her aside and explain that she wasn’t a threat in the slightest. “I’m just passing through,” she murmured aloud without meaning to.
“Excuse me?” William asked, tipping his head toward her.
She blinked, feeling completely daft. “I… nothing.”
“Please. Sit.” Lady Charnock swept a hand across the room.
William sat across from her. Somehow she could not think of him as Mr. Langley. Maybe having someone watch you blow up a bunny put you on more familiar grounds. Or it might have been that she had grown up with Christian and never addressed him properly. He was always just Christian to her. It was all very exhausting. She resolved to not mention any of William’s names at all.
“What are you doing so far from home, and alone?” Lady Charnock sniffed, because it was unheard of for a woman to travel without a proper chaperone. But sorcerers had their own rules. Trying to mesh them with society’s expectations was difficult.
“I am on my way to battle.” Ada raised her chin defiantly, fighting a smile when Lady Charnock looked beyond horrified.
William did not fight his smile. It bloomed across his face as he met her eyes. Ada was starting to think smiling must be his natural expression and anything else was uncomfortable for him. Or else he found everything amusing. Both confused her. “I wasn’t aware that there was a battle near here.”
“I’m not aware that there is, either. I just feel it calling me.” She shrugged, trying to do it delicately so that she didn’t send Lady Charnock into fits.
“Breakfast is served, Your Ladyship,” Harriet said from the doorway. Her eyes swept angrily over Ada to settle on William, softening so she looked like an overgrown puppy.
Thank the heavens. Ada rose to her feet, belatedly realizing William should help her up. Her mother would be so disappointed. And probably in hysterics at the thought of Ada behaving in such a way when they went to London for the social season. Good thing I’m not going to London, Ada thought with a determined scowl.
William placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her from the room. Again her skin seemed to jump, and the wildness of her flames calmed under his touch. Maybe because he wasn’t magical, as she was? Ada thought hard, trying to remember, but she was fairly positive she’d never been touched by someone non-magical. That must be the cause of this strange reaction, she told herself, but she didn’t really believe it. There was a pull toward William that she didn’t understand, and had only felt toward one other person in all her life.
Christian.
The earl was away, so it was only the three of them at the overly large table. William sat on her left. Lady Charnock sat across from them, and they ate quietly. Ada answered questions when they were asked, but she was confused and, now that she had eaten, she was also exhausted. Battle hungry flames? Where’d you go? Wake me up or we will die in battle.
“My lady… I’m not a sorcerer, but perhaps resting before battle is advisable.” William’s voice broke through her haze of sleep-deprivation and she started. Good heavens, she’d nearly fallen asleep into her food.
“I don’t want to trouble you,” she said, but her words sounded slurred. When had she last slept? She couldn’t remember, since the night before she’d been riding like a demon through the forest and the one before that had been spent overcome by butterflies and thoughts of Christian. Maybe the night before, although she couldn’t remember. And training with her father had made her doubly exhausted.
The battle that kept calling her had chosen a very inopportune time.
“I believe my son is right. Rest, and you might live through the battle to fight another day.” Lady Charnock, if Ada wasn’t mistaken, looked a bit amused and even more shocking — concerned.
“I couldn’t intrude on your kindness.” She tried not to slur her words but she was so very tired. Her dazed mind wondered if the servant girl had drugged her. Or poisoned her. That would be problematic indeed.
“Harriet, show Miss Aleshire to the guest room, please.” William’s voice wafted through the fog and she felt him help her to her feet, holding her up when she nearly collapsed.
She was a mighty warrior. This was unacceptable. Ada would normally have Christian heal her, but without him she was unsure what to do but allow herself to be led to the quiet chambers. William left her there in Harriet’s care. “I do not need assistance. Thank you,” Ada mumbled, dismissing her. As soon as the perturbed woman left, Ada crawled into the grand four-poster bed, barely remembering to remove her boots first. She was asleep before her head settled into the softness of the down pillow. The last thing she remembered seeing were the flowers in the vase on the nightstand.
****
“Mother, can we not try calling her again? She’s been gone since last night. She took Alexios and her father isn’t even trying to find her.” Christian was aware that his voice sounded frantic, but it couldn’t be helped. “Charity, can you see her? At all?”
“She’s very tired, Christian. The spells her father is teaching her are stronger than she is, and they have overtaken her.” Charity’s voice was odd, her silver eyes glowing. It was the first time she’d been able to call a vision in the six hours that Christian had been asking. “But do not worry, brother. She’s well taken care of. I see her in a soft bed. I smell flowers.”
“We can’t call her, Christian. We never taught her the spell. She isn’t open to it.” Scarlett looked at him, pity in her dark brown eyes. “Ada is fine, Christian. She’s a warrior.”
“But she’s young and not prepared for the outside world, Mother. She’s never left the estate before, and certainly not on her own. She doesn’t realize how often I have to heal her — when she doesn’t eat, or when she’s upset. She gets very sick and without me there…”
“Then she will need to learn. Christian, you aren’t her personal guard, and you won’t always be there for her. One day she will be gone, moved on to a new life, and she can’t take you with her. You have to let her go.”
“You’re wrong. She isn’t going to leave me, Mother!” Christian stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over in his haste. “I have to find her. I have to bring her home.” He spun on his heel and stalked away, listening to his mother and Charity both calling for him. He didn’t stop.
“Christian. I’ve been looking for you.” The duke seemed to materialize out of the shadows cast by the weak sun against the manor.
“Me? Why?” Christian asked, belatedly remembering his place.
“Well, I figured you would be my best option for finding my daughter. You know her better than anyone.” Richard’s voice was too smooth. There wasn’t the worry in his eyes, or the panic running through his words that should have plagued him. Christian squinted, trying to read him, but he failed. The man’s face was carefully blank.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Christian said, hating the way his voice cracked. The duke could not know how Christian felt about his daughter, or they would send him away and he would lose her forever.
“Follow me, please. I may know something that can help us.” Richard turned sharply and stalked away. Christian was overwhelmed with foreboding, but if that man thought Christian could help find Ada, then Christian had to trust him. Dragging his feet forward, he followed.
Richard led the way to his study, producing a key and unlocking the door. Christian’s heart sank when he heard the lock snap shut behind them. He was taller than Richard, but he had no offensive spells except the few that Ada had tried to teach him. And even those he wasn’t entirely sure he could fight with yet. They were still so new.
“Relax, boy. I’m not going to attack you.” Richard turned away from him, scanning his shelves of books. Christian moved closer, stealthily, so as not to draw attention to himself.
They were spell books, all of them. Shelves upon shelves of spell books. Richard dragged his finger along their spines until he found the one he wanted, an ancient looking thing, yellowed with age. “I believe…” Richard plucked the book from its place and carried it to his desk, thumbing through the pages. Dust billowed into the air and Christian sneezed. “That there is a spell here that will put you into Ada’s head. I would do it to myself, but I don’t know her like you do.”
While he searched through the pages, Christian studied the room. The rugs were imported from the Orient. The desk was huge, made of rich, dark wood, and the doors matched exactly. Over Richard’s shoulder were full length windows, looking out over the countryside and the thick forest beyond. Adlington was beautiful, and Christian hoped never to leave.
Richard made a distressed noise, drawing Christian’s attention back to him. “It says one must be a seer to put themselves in another’s mind. I wonder if Charity would be able—”
“Charity is too weak. But I am her brother, perhaps I have some of her gift.” Christian knew the thought was ridiculous, but he couldn’t let the duke send for Charity. It might kill her.
Richard studied him for several seconds. “It is worth a try if it will help us find my darling daughter.”
The words were endearing, but they felt fake to Christian. Even so, he would do it, because Ada was darling to him, whether or not she was darling to her father. Or maybe it was that the duke didn’t realize how fragile Ada really was? He put so much stock in her powerful abilities, he seemed to forget that she was only a young girl who had never been far from home.
“Sit down, Mr. Buttercroft. Try to relax. It will be less painful if you do.”
“Painful?” Christian yelped, half-sitting in the soft leather chair across from Richard.
“Well, of course. All spells are painful, if they are not your own.”
Christian turned that thought over in his brain, but it didn’t feel right. Ada had taught him, and it hadn’t hurt at all. He tried to settle himself into his chair, unable to swallow for the fear in his throat. Please don’t take my flames. Please don’t take my flames. Please don’t take my flames.
Or my sanity.
He opened his eyes in time to see Richard pushing the spell directly at his face. Before he could move out of the way or even brace for the impact, he felt it sink into his skin, reaching for his brain, and then pulling. But the spell was wrong. It couldn’t find what it was looking for, and the flames seemed to expand, to flood toward his heart, pulling and tangling and burning, pulling on his heart like it could rip it from his chest. And his skull felt like it was on fire. He grabbed at it, clawing at his face, trying to make the pain stop. He didn’t realize he was screaming until there was a pounding on the outside door with screams to match his own.
Richard flicked his wrist and the spell died within Christian. He slumped in the chair, not having the strength to even sit up straight. “What is going on? What are you doing to my son?” Christian could not remember a time that his mother had sounded so angry, so frightening.
“He volunteered to help find Ada. The spell called for a seer but he convinced me that he could do it,” Richard said smoothly. “It didn’t work, however. You are free to take him home. But if Charity is willing…”
“Charity is not willing, my lord.” The words fell with distaste from Scarlett’s tongue. “She has not yet recovered from her last episode.”
“Of course. We don’t want to be overtaxing one so sickly. I’ll call my guards to help your son home.”
“No.” Christian forced himself to his feet, feeling like he would vomit all over the expensive looking rugs. His skull pounded and he couldn’t see except for brief, blazing splotches of color that seemed to scald his eyes. And his heart — every beat felt like it was bleeding out. He wished it would stop, just for a moment. The pain was more than he could bear, but he stiffened his spine and walked past the duke, escaping into the hallway. The door shut behind him with a hard click that nearly sent him to his knees.
“Let me heal you,” Scarlett said frantically. Christian couldn’t see her flames but he could feel them. And he felt his body recoil from them, knocking them back toward his mother. She gasped as her own spells hit her.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know—” But the pain was too much and Christian did collapse this time, falling right at his mother’s feet.