Crowned (Beholder #4)(21)

Again, I couldn’t remember a word.

My heartbeat sped. This couldn’t be right. Surely, I could remember a single finder spell. I listed out every finder spell in the Necromancer lexicon.

Mystic Cloud.

Orb Of Insight.

Stylus Of The Seer.

In each case, I knew the spell and how it worked, but I couldn’t recall a single word of the incantations that actually made them come to pass. Panic tightened every muscle in my torso.

Stay calm, Elea. Perhaps it was just the finder spells that were giving me trouble for some reason. I then focused on basic spells any Novice could master.

Fireball.

Bone Shield.

Detect Mage.

Again, I knew what the spells were. I could remember learning them. Still, I couldn’t recall a single word of the incantations that made them function. I stared at my hands, which still glowed with blue power. Pulling in magick and directing it inside my body was something that took me years to master. How could I operate as a Grand Mistress Necromancer in some ways but not in others? The answer appeared to me in a flash.

Mlinzi and Walinzi.

The trickster gods had said they would take two memories. Jicho confirmed that the first was removing knowledge of my identity from anyone in the Caster community. Was the second any memory of how to actually cast a spell?

It had to be. There was no other explanation for me losing so many incantations at once. This wasn’t magick that I’d ever heard of, either from a Necromancer or a Caster. It had to be something unique created by the trickster gods.

Bands of despair tightened around my chest. Mlinzi and Walinzi left me with the power to sense magick, but took away my ability actually do something useful with it.

Tricksters, indeed.

With a sigh, I released the magick from my body. Power rolled out from my fingertips in a cascade of blue sparks. The tiny lights faded as they reentered the environment. Within seconds, the skin on my arms and hands looked normal once again.

I shook my head. I may appear normal, but I felt anything but.

Thanks to Mlinzi and Walinzi, I wasn’t a regular mortal anymore, but I wasn’t a mage, either. My powers were trapped someplace in between. It all seemed so useless and cruel. Perhaps the trickster gods had lied about wanting to assist me. After all, I only had their word that they felt the Sire and Lady threatened their world.

A knock sounded at the door. “May I enter?” My breath caught as I recognized the voice. Rowan.

An odd mixture of excitement, terror, and desire moved through me. “Come in.”

Rowan pushed open the door and stepped inside. I scanned his face carefully, desperate for any sign that he recognized me as his mate. There was none. I’d learned to gauge Rowan’s expressions, and the look he wore now? It said that I was nothing but an interloper and threat.

Rowan leaned against the closed door. For some reason, he’d changed out of his long cape and leather kilt. My brows lifted in surprise. Rowan always liked to face foreigners in his formal garb. But for some reason, he had changed into his typical Caster leathers, which consisted of brown pants, heavy boots, and a fitted jacket. Weapons were strapped all over his body.

Rowan stepped slowly around the space, stomping on the floorboards a few times. They creaked and swayed. This was classic Rowan. He was sizing up how well this place could hold me if I decided to physically tear the room apart. Based on how the wood crackled under his weight, the answer was obvious. This tower had not been kept well. Plus, based on how the floorboards shifted under Rowan’s prodding, the place was probably originally built to store goods, not keep prisoners. No doubt, I could easily find a way out if I stayed here too long.

The thought made me pause. I remembered Rowan’s words earlier.

“One misstep and our deal will become forfeit.”

Was Rowan trying to set me up to betray him? Trying to escape would certainly count as a misstep. And placing me in a storage chamber instead of a prison tower was essentially inviting one.

Rowan paused at the open window-hole, inspecting the dark grounds below. “Too many guards,” he murmured. “And too close to the wall.”

“You want the guards farther away.”

Rowan rounded on me. “Don’t you?”

“You’re trying to tempt me into making a misstep, just like you warned me before. Once I try to escape, you can torture and kill me without breaking your word.”

“Yes, and I have every confidence you’ll miss that step and soon.” Rowan leaned out the window and whistled three short notes. It was one of the codes used between Kade and Rowan. In this case, Rowan was ordering his brother to send the guards away for a while.

“Consider me sorely tempted.” It didn’t seem wise to keep talking about being Rowan’s mate. I knew how the man’s mind worked. If I came on too strong, Rowan would take that as a sure sign that I was Viktor’s spy.

Rowan folded his arms across his chest, a movement that made his leathers creak. “You should have been gone by now. Why are you still here?”

My mind reeled through this statement. The fact that Rowan had changed from his royal garb now made perfect sense. “You expected me to transport away from here. That’s why you changed clothes. You were planning to track me.” It was a good plan. By following where I went, Rowan could probably get better information than interrogation. And afterward, Rowan would be free to interrogate and kill me at his leisure.