Chapter 45

45

LECTURE NOTES FROM SPELLCASTING AND CURATION:

Both Illusion and Cloaking Spells are forbidden because they play tricks on the eyes. Illusion spells are far more complex, holding the power to condense a body into the proportion of the illusion desired. Despite this, both spells could be overcome, potentially leaving the spellcaster in grave danger.

T he location Soren scouted was just shy of the capital. It was large enough to hold what remained of the southern half of the rebellion—those who’d continued farther north—but it was nothing like the dense woods of Wilcrest.

It was temporary, at best.

Two drivers had left on horseback already; they’d find those on foot from Mabelton and lead them back here. Meanwhile, Thessa had helped Soren and the remaining driver set up tents in preparation.

It wasn’t long before he’d asked her to rest.She’d refused the first few times, until the pain in her thigh returned. Sighing, she took her leave.

“Stop doing that,” Soren scowled at her.

Thessa shoved him away with a bloodied palm. He’d been an inch from her face when she awoke from the Astral Projection Spell—again.

He pulled back, scanning her.

There was a five-pointed star drawn across her chest, Eiliana’s grimoire sprawled to her right, bloodied paste to her left, and her dagger beside that.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, it worked.”

“Where’d you go this time?”

“I went back to haunt Mina and Mora again.” Thessa wiggled her fingers for ghostly emphasis. “They’re absurd and it’s too easy. I just wanted to practice.”

“Tell me next time. I don’t particularly enjoy finding you unconscious with bloodied breasts. Well, the former—the latter is markedly attractive. It almost pleases me as much as my blood on your lips.”

The sight of his half-smile was enough to make her blood simmer, like that pounding silence between lightning and thunder.

But that fanged grin she loved so much disappeared as realization struck his features. “Please don’t tell me you were unclothed?”

She pressed up to her hands. “And if I was? ”

Growling was the answer to her question.

She rolled her eyes. “No. It all works the same way. So I could be wearing whatever I picture, wherever I can picture it. But it can’t be anything or anywhere. The spell says a memory of each must already be held.”

He handed her a damp cloth, as well as her tunic. “Brilliant.”

“She was, wasn’t she?”

Soren sat beside her, keeping his hands busy by cleaning up her mess. “Eiliana was a master of many forbidden spells. Her father would’ve locked her in their library if it weren’t for her determination to be outside. Christof was just as sick as my father.”

“If only he noticed how much she loved the woods. And to sketch. And ravens. It seems like those things pleased her very much.”

“You’re right.”

“Is her father still alive?”

“Christof leads the northern rebellion.”

Thessa went quiet. She hadn’t realized Christof was her father—the husband of the Forgone One. She knew Jussal had approved of whatever it was going on between them but what if?—

“Who cares what he thinks,” Soren answered the question she’d not spoken.

She frowned. “When will this mind-blood-bond thing wear off?”

“When your body recycles my blood and replenishes yours.”

“But that could take months.”

Soren grinned. “I quite like hearing your broody thoughts.”

Thessa backhanded his chest. “Anyways. We need to talk about the Supremes.”

“Right. Tell me what you’ll say.”

“I’ll tell them the truth, of course. That the lies they’ve spread will not be buried like our fallen. That we refuse to be forgotten, and we deserve a place in the world we helped create.”

“And where is this discussion going to take place?”

“In the Trial Room, I think.”

“And what if they’re not in the Trial Room.”

“Then I’ll walk through walls until I find them, making every guard in the Central Divinity wish they never met the ghost of Thessa’s past.”

“The who?”

“Never mind, it’s a mortal saying that my friends use.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Sir.” Their driver sounded from outside their tent.

“Yes Oleander, what is it?”

“The first group is arriving now, I’ve spotted them.”

“Thank you, be right out.” Soren pressed a kiss to her lips and said, “Put your shirt on before you kill me,” then ducked out of the tent.

By nightfall a majority of the remaining rebellion had made it, and the rest would trickle in overnight. They’d told stories of how the Illusion Spell proved useful when the trees grew sparse. They’d camouflage themselves as rodents and insects until they were protected again.

After a brief evening meal, Soren led Thessa away from camp. “Bring your dagger,” was all he’d said.