Lacuna - N.R. Walker Page 0,10

and a number of years Tancho could not fathom.

She put her hand to Samiel’s wrist first, her knuckles gnarled, her skin like crumpled paper, lightly touching the birthmark. Samiel gasped quietly and Maghdlm smiled up at her. With a nod, she moved to Elmwood and did the same. He let out a quiet sigh, and Tancho was relieved that it was not only he who would find relief.

Maghdlm stood in front of Tancho, looked up at him, and smiled. But when she touched his wrist, it was she who hissed. Her gaze shot to Tancho’s; her old, dark eyes flashed with shock before she gripped his wrist.

“Demidium,” she whispered.

She let go of his wrist, but the birthmark still burned. He wanted to beg her to make it stop—it was getting worse—but she moved to Crow next, mumbling something . . . No, not mumbling.

Chanting.

She took Crow’s wrist and looked up at him. Her chanting grew louder.

Their birthmarks began to glow red, the pain grew hotter, impossibly so, and Tancho couldn’t bear it any longer. He let out a pained gasp, though somehow, through sheer will, he kept his arm out as instructed. Crow bit out a groan at the same time, just as Maghdlm’s chant became a shout and she let his wrist go.

Sparks danced above their now-red birthmarks, sparking across their palms as if someone had kicked the embers of a campfire. Tancho turned to look at Crow, seeing his face for the very first time. Seeing how ruggedly handsome he was, his pale skin and square jaw, his pink lips, and how the sparks danced in his black eyes . . .

Then, just like magick, the pain was gone.

Chapter Five

Crow couldn’t remember what they’d eaten for dinner. If, in fact, he’d eaten at all. What had happened with the birthmarks, the pain and the sparks, was not supposed to have happened. And not just because he’d never been taught it, or practised it, or learned about it.

He’d never heard of any such thing.

But from the bewildered look on Maghdlm’s face and how she’d grown wary and alarmed, how she’d cast Adelais an incredulous sidelong glance as she’d hurried out of the grand hall, it seemed she hadn’t expected such a thing either.

Two other yellow-robed elders left with her, and a brief look of outrage crossed Adelais’ face before she calmly schooled her features and continued with her parade. They’d been shown to tables and food had been brought out, but Crow’s appetite, along with his ability to concentrate, had disappeared.

For across the room sat Tancho, with his white hooded robe pulled up, his head down, and in deep conversation with the two who sat either side of him.

It was very clear he knew nothing of what had happened either.

Every so often Tancho would glance at Crow, as did the woman beside him, and Crow became angrier each and every time. When Adelais declared the evening formalities were over and they would reconvene in the courtyard after breakfast, Crow stood up so fast, his chair scraped the floor. He stalked out of the grand hall with Soko at his side, ignoring the many eyes on his back, and he barely held his temper until they’d reached the north quarters.

He shoved open the doors to their room and he wanted to throw and smash something, and he would have, only nothing in the room belonged to him, so he pulled at his cloak and threw it at the chaise. Though his aim was fine, it was a soft projectile and lacked satisfaction. “What in all the blue skies was that?” he yelled. “What kind of sorcery are they playing at?” He stomped over to where his cloak had half-spilled onto the floor, collected it into a rough ball, and this time threw it at the wall.

“Did the cloak offend you somehow?” Soko asked, still standing near the door.

Crow spun to face him. “What kind of magick did that woman use on me?”

Soko raised one eyebrow. “Did you not hear what Adelais called it?”

“I didn’t hear anything after she did that thing—” Crow moved his hand like he was sprinkling dust.

That drew a frown from Soko. “She called it stella-arcane. Maghdlm draws her power from the stars.”

“I’d not felt a pain like it!”

“I don’t believe she was the cause of—”

“It burned like ore in a forge. White-hot.”

“I think Tancho felt the same. He seemed to be hurting. The woman with him was furious.”

“And what gives him the right?”

Soko stared at him.