“Okay?”
“Let us try something. Imagine your affinities are like individual threads, and they’re all wound up, packed tightly into that hard ball in your chest, waiting for you to grab one and pull.”
I picture a ball of colorful yarn sitting deep inside me. “All right?”
A glimmer sparks in her eyes, and suddenly the drizzle intensifies to a brief downpour before cutting off abruptly.
“You made it rain.”
“I made it rain more. Your turn. Picture yourself pulling on the thread that represents water.”
I try to follow her instructions. Nothing happens.
“Maybe we should try one you’ve already summoned.” She points to a nearby tree, its leaves fluttering in the cold wind. Her eyes shimmer again, and the tree sways as if hit with a strong gust. “Your turn. Picture yourself yanking a thread of air and drawing it loose.”
I do as asked but nothing happens. There isn’t even a swell of adrenaline.
“It’s a difficult concept to wrap your head around. Here, let us try something simpler. Hold up your hand in front of you.”
I do, feeling silly.
“Now picture a flame igniting at the tip of your finger.”
I remember Sofie doing that, making it dance from one to the next, up and down her hand, in a bid to make me believe her.
Again, nothing happens.
I sigh heavily, dropping my arm. “How have I been using these powers to steal diamonds when I had no idea I could, and now that I know about them, and can feel them inside me, I can’t do anything!”
“Do not despair, Romeria.” Gesine pats my shoulder. “Most of the battle is finding them, but they are in there, and we will learn how to unlock them.”
“I hope you’re right. Otherwise, Zander is going to be really disappointed.”
Deep laughter sounds, drawing my focus back to camp. I would much rather be in my tent with him than standing out here, the damp night soaking into my bones. Where is he?
“He left.”
“What?”
“It is the king who you are looking for, yes? He left with Abarrane and Elisaf.”
My mouth gapes. “When?”
“Soon after we arrived. They went to Norcaster to look for the missing scouts.”
“The scouts are missing?” What the hell could have happened to Drakon?
I replay our brief conversation earlier, and it dawns on me that Zander knew when I sensed something was bothering him, and he smoothly distracted me with promises of a night with him.
The town is nothing more than a faint glow in the murkiness. “Who else did they take?”
“It was only the three of them. The mortals and supplies need protection. From what I have heard of these northern villages, they don’t take kindly to strangers, and a group of warriors appearing would stir attention, especially if two have already sparked trouble.”
I shake my head, my anger swelling. That’s why he sent me to the tent. He was coming to get Elisaf, and he knew I would insist on going. But to sneak out without so much as a word? “If the scouts didn’t come back, there’s going to be a good reason for it. It could be a trap. And if something happens to Zander, then all this will be for nothing.” Everything will fall apart. “That was stupid, to go into a place like that with only the three of them.” Regardless of how powerful Zander is with a flame and how skilled Abarrane is with a sword.
The large tent in the center opens, and Jarek steps out, his arm slung across Eden’s shoulders. She appears so small and frail as she huddles against him.
That didn’t take long.