The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,67

once we start walking.” Dev tapped his fingers impatiently on his pack straps.

“I h-h-hope s-so.” Kiran gave up trying to warm his skin and stowed the blanket. The instant Kiran settled his pack on his shoulders, Dev strode off through the sunlit trees. Kiran lagged a careful distance behind, and veered to touch pine trunks. The flicker of ikilhia he drew from each tree was but a taste of their dark, ancient lives. His abused body cried out for him to drop his barriers and suck in power in great draughts, but he knew better. Ruslan wouldn’t feel ikilhia drawn by touch while he wore the amulet, but only so long as his barriers held firm.

Power...what had Ruslan done, to fuel his spell without access to the forces of Ninavel’s confluence? He might have brought and used zhivnoi crystals, warded reservoirs of stored energies...but Kiran recognized that as a foolish hope. Weather spells were challenging and chancy, but they required delicate control more than raw power. With the proper preparations and ritual, Ruslan would only need the ikilhia of a single life, perhaps two, to fuel the spell. He’d welcome the chance to kill, both to vent his anger and to intimidate those he intended to question.

He wouldn’t choose Cara, or Jerik, surely. Ruslan would consider their knowledge of the mountains a useful resource. Wouldn’t he? Guilt weighed Kiran’s steps. He stole a glance at Dev, who radiated determination with every stride up the slope.

“I’m sorry,” Kiran blurted.

“For what?” Dev’s expression was wary. “Near falling in the river? No help for that.”

“No, for...for everything. Ruslan coming, and...that you had to leave the convoy.” Kiran remembered the thinly concealed pain in Dev’s voice when he’d shouted at Cara. “When I asked you to help me, I didn’t know it would mean you couldn’t ever work as an outrider again.”

Cynicism gleamed in Dev’s eyes. “Would it have made a difference if you had?” At Kiran’s conflicted silence, he snorted. “I didn’t think so. Spare me the false apologies, then.”

Stung, Kiran protested, “It wasn’t false! You think I don’t know how it feels, to be forced to give up something you love?” Never again to feel the glory of magic coursing through his blood, lifting his soul into light...sometimes he could hardly bear the thought.

Dev shot an odd, slanted glance his way. “You’re talking about magic, I take it.” He frowned. “You mean to hide in Alathia for the rest of your life?” His tone made it clear he didn’t think much of that plan.

“Until I can discover some other means of protection.” For all Ruslan’s volatile temper, he also possessed the cold patience of a nightclaw lizard. Kiran had no illusions he would give up the hunt simply because his quarry had temporarily escaped beyond his reach. But Ruslan would never imagine him capable of giving up magic completely. He’d expect Kiran to hide far from the Council’s seat of power, in hopes of using his magic in secret. Whereas Kiran intended to head straight from Kost to Tamanath, the largest city in Alathia and the stronghold of the Council, where their detection spells were strongest. By staying quiet, anonymous, and never casting so much as a first level spell, he might remain safely hidden from both Ruslan and the Council for years. Time enough, perhaps, to find a different, more permanent solution.

Dev’s face had darkened. “Ruslan holds a grudge that long, does he? Shit! I can’t hang around in Alathia forever, I’ve got important business back in Ninavel!”

“You won’t have to,” Kiran said. “I told you I’d give you the amulet. Wear it while you return to Ninavel, and then once you’re in the city, stay away from Reytani district. Ruslan won’t bother to hunt you if you don’t cross his path. He thinks of untalented men as tools to be used or cast aside, not enemies worthy of attention.”

“What a guy,” Dev said.

“Maybe you won’t have to give up outriding,” Kiran said earnestly. He couldn’t help those back at the convoy, but perhaps he could lessen the price Dev paid. “Once this is all over, you should tell Cara what happened. Say I forced you into helping me. She knows you’ve no defense against magic—surely she’d forgive you. I’ll even write a letter saying as much, if you think it would help.”

“It’s Meldon who’ll make sure I never work again, not Cara.” But the grim set to Dev’s face eased. For the first time since the avalanche, his glance at