Spin the Dawn(67)

With a sigh, I put aside my work and riffled through my sketchbook for the design Edan had drawn. I reached for my scissors to start cutting the leather. It was becoming habit to use them now, and I appreciated the help. They instinctively knew the size of my foot, and within minutes I had a perfectly good sole to work off.

“How will you enchant them?” I asked, holding the sole up to my foot.

“With magic that’ll get you to the peak. Alive.”

“What about down?” I asked.

Edan mounted his horse, motioning for me to do the same. “We’ll worry about that later.”

Up ahead was the Dhoya Forest, but we followed the river until we absolutely had to leave it.

We stopped to rest at a small, bubbling spring. I washed some of my clothes and fought the urge to leap into the water for a bath. Not in front of Edan, anyway. Still, it was good to wash my face for the first time in weeks. My skin was still healing, but already the cooler, more humid weather was helping with the blisters and peeling.

Edan watched the sky, a grim expression darkening his face. “We can’t take too long here.”

I scrubbed at my palms. “Why not?”

“We’re close to the mountains, but we need to cut farther north if we’re going to reach Rainmaker’s Peak. The next full moon is in four days. And night in the forest is dangerous.”

I frowned. I hadn’t seen him work his magic since we’d collected the silk thread from the desert. “Now that we’re out of the desert, can’t you use your magic to bring us through the forest safely?”

Edan pursed his lips. “That’s not how it works.”

“Then tell me.”

“You should learn to use a dagger,” he said, changing the subject. “There will be far more dangers here than in the Halakmarat.”

“Why?” I wrung the bottom of my shirt dry. “Because you’re planning to disappear again at night?” I didn’t wait for him to come up with an excuse. “Where do you go, anyway?”

“I go to my tent, just like you,” said Edan, wariness tightening his voice.

My fists curled at my sides. “Stop lying to me. I’m tired of it. You might think me a fool, but I’ve been around you long enough to know you’re keeping something from me—”

“Maia,” he said. “Calm yourself.”

“I will not calm down!” I shouted. “I was attacked by wolves, and where were you? You came back with a gash on your arm and never explained how you got it. And every time I ask for an explanation, you—”

“I’ll tell you,” he interrupted. He held my hands, but I didn’t remember him taking them. I tried to pull away, but he held on tightly. “I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

I was still upset. “Then why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to protect you,” Edan said, letting go of my hands. “And myself. I didn’t want you to see me for what I am.”

All traces of his usual arrogance were gone. I crossed my arms, not wanting him to know that he’d mollified me so quickly.

“You’re right,” Edan continued. “You should know. It would be good to keep traveling at night, and you’ll need to know the limits of my magic.”

He removed his outer robe and pulled up his sleeve; then he pointed to the gold cuff on his wrist. The one I’d noticed before.

“This is a symbol of my oath,” he said, holding out his arm. “My oath to serve the one who holds my sigil—the amulet you so perceptively noticed the emperor wearing.”

Edan rolled down his sleeve. I swallowed. “So…you didn’t choose to serve him?”

“Whoever owns the amulet is my master.”

“Your master,” I repeated. “Emperor Khanujin.”

“He doesn’t like it when I call him master,” Edan said dryly. “But yes, that’s what he is.”

“But—why?” I whispered. I’d thought enchanters were like mercenaries, free to serve whoever could afford their exorbitant fees.

He shrugged. “It is the price we pay for our power. All enchanters must swear an oath—it prevents us from becoming too powerful, or greedy. Magic is…addictive, you see. And over time, it can corrupt.”

I did see. I remembered how my scissors hummed to me, how good it felt to sew with them. They filled me with such irresistible power, my hands tingled and throbbed even after I used them.

“Can you be free?” I asked softly.

“That’s a challenging question,” Edan said. He lifted my chin and took my hand gently. “Khanujin’s been good to me. It isn’t as bad as it must sound.”

I shivered from the intimacy of his touch. My heart—my rebellious heart—began to race. “And…what if you leave him?”

Edan let go of my chin. “Then I would be trapped in my spirit form forever.”

His spirit form…

“A hawk,” I breathed.

“Clever girl,” he whispered, letting go of my hand.

“But you’re only…only a hawk at night.”

He nodded. “When I’m near my master, I can change at will. It’s useful for spying on people—during the war it was especially helpful. But as I go farther away from him, my nights are stolen from me and I must spend them in my spirit form. My magic grows weaker the longer I am away from my master, until I can no longer transform back into a man.”