You Are Mine (Mine, #1)(20)
The Envadi strides over to me. If killing Thomas is any indication, he's a powerful warlock. The lightness within me sinks into a massive horde of fear, heavy and repressive. This stranger is going to be worse than Father. More powerful and bigger. He'll be able to inflict even more damage. Trying to hold back a whimper, I bite the inside of my cheek.
Father spots the Envadi next to me and howls. With a flick of his wrist, he emits a scarlet spell. The light flies toward the Envadi. Before it can reach him, the Envadi casts his own spell of silver in front of him. The scarlet smashes into the silver, both dissolving on impact.
The Envadi says, “Please remove this dangerous, unstable man.”
“Sorry about that, Chancellor. Didn't expect it out of our good Councilman.” The law officer bends to whisper in Father's ear. As he listens, his eyes tighten into narrow slits. The officer pulls back.
“Forgive my violence,” Father says. “It wasn't intended for you. Today has been a shock.”
“Indeed.” The Envadi's mouth is a tight line.
Without another word, Father and the law officer depart, the salmon dome closing after them. The spectators' lips move, directed at Father. He looks back at me, an expression on his face I don't recognize. Longing? Regret? But it can't be either of those. After it morphs to a scowl, he and the law officer stride off.
The Envadi's focus is fully on me. I grip my hands together and demand my gaze reach up to meet his no matter that my body doesn't want to cooperate. Now that I'm getting used to his height and seeing more of him, I realize he's younger than I previously thought. Perhaps three or four years older than me. Young and strong.
“Would you prefer to stay at Thomas's home or Chancellor Jacob's manor?”
My gaze wavers. The question wasn't what I expected. I expected to be taken, well, I don't know where, but wherever the Envadi wanted. The strain of the day must have addled him. I won't be the one to remind him it's not my choice. If I never have to be in Thomas's house again, I'll be happier. “The manor.”
“Very well. Your things will be sent after you.”
He waves his hand and the salmon light pops into nothing. Even without the spell, it's oddly silent as the crowd watches us. Without another word, he strides through the cluster of people.
Chapter Eight
“I'm glad Father let you come,” I say to Cynthia. My carriage sickness abounds, but I do my best to ignore it. She's overly pale and in need of more comfort than me. “Nothing will happen to you, I'm sure of it. You're still Father's property, that will mean something. He wouldn't have sent you if it didn't. The Envadi won't hurt you.”
In the faint light coming through the cracks of the carriage door, Cynthia shakes her head. “I doubt it.”
She's probably right, though I don't dare correct her. “I'll keep you safe.”
“You can't protect me like you did at home.”
What can I say to that? There's no reason to think it'll be the same and every reason to think it'll be much worse. I won't be able to protect her or me. “I'll keep you hidden in my closet. He won't find you there.”
She gives a mirthless laugh before sobering. “You might as well know I've been sent to spy on you and the Envadi.”
“Oh.” It makes sense why Father would send her, though why the Envadi offered in the first place is unfathomable. “Did Father spell you?”
“Not that I know of. He sent a note with the directions I was to come and report everything to him with letters, so I think it unlikely.”
“Well then, you're free to tell him whatever you like. I have nothing more to hide than I did for seventeen years, and I could care less what you tell him about the Envadi.”
She snorts.
Attempting to keep myself from being sick, I breathe evenly. “If mother heard that you would be given a Woman's Canon lecture.”
“And you're not going to take her place?”
“Only if you don't.”
“Splendid.” The carriage dips and bounces back up. “Rough road. How are you faring?”
My stomach churns. I'm hot and sweaty and uncomfortable. “Rather well, considering. Would you keep talking though?”
“Of course.”
Cynthia talks and talks of all sorts of things. Stories from when were children. Of the sisters we left behind. Of mother and the unborn babe. She stops only to help when the ride makes me ill. If she had accompanied me on more trips, I wouldn't have despised the carriage quite as much.
The journey is long. Longer than it takes to get to Thomas's from Father's house. Part way through I realize I have no idea what to expect. We could be headed toward a run down cottage. Though since Father and Thomas seemed pleased with the new property, it can't be too awful. But something about it has me nervous.
As time passes, Cynthia's chatter becomes more stilted, and my retching into a pot more frequent. From the aching tiredness of my body, I can only assume night deepens. I'm beginning to think I've made a mistake in choosing Chancellor Jacob's house. No wonder the Envadi let me choose, he wanted to see what type of torture I prefer. Chancellor Jacob must have stayed in the tents instead of traveling everyday like Thomas. Father often stays overnight when there is to be a council meeting and Chancellor Jacob must have done the same. I can't imagine doing this route regularly.