living quarters so that everyone was closer together and more defensible. Crimson had taken umbrage to the suggestion, seeing little cause to live so near to those he felt were beneath him.
After a few minutes of silent walking, they arrived at an empty chamber, one he knew quite well as it had once belonged to his nanny. The woman had passed on to become one with the Mother, but he had never found more comfort than he had between these walls. He kept the place clean and stocked with food since he often came to clear his head or just to be alone. The chambers all around were also vacant, so there was little fear of being overheard or discovered.
He invited Mooriah to sit on the mat while he stoked a small fire in the pit. The upper caves were cooler, especially now that winter was upon them. Smoke disappeared into the vent in the ceiling once the fire caught hold.
“Can I offer you some tea? I have jerky.”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
She was patient as he settled himself and ordered the words in his mind. “I wanted to thank you for your help the other day at the ceremony. I… I don’t know what I would have done without it.”
Mooriah swallowed. “Of course. It was the first time for you, and the ancient rituals are a bit unusual. I understand the nerves, I felt them too.”
He smiled sadly, both touched and shamed by her kindness. “We both know it wasn’t nerves. I… I have never been able to, that is…” He took a deep breath. “I hate the blood.”
She tilted her head in surprise.
“I’ve never been able to stand the sight of it. It makes me queasy. And the idea of cutting myself on purpose.” He shivered. “I can’t bring myself to do it.”
Mooriah frowned. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. “But how?”
He shrugged. “The chieftain’s son has servants. They do the spells, charge the firerocks, put protection wards on everything.”
“But your own personal protection.” She looked at him wide-eyed. “Against danger. Against the sorcerers. Against me.” She spoke the last words in a hush.
From the time they reached adolescence, all the Folk set yearly wards on their person against magic and curses. Parents did so for their smaller children. The wards also protected against the natural magic so many of the Outsiders were born with.
“You know what I am, right? Why my father brought me to be raised here?” she asked.
“The Outsider sorcerers’ magic is called Earthsong—it’s fueled by life energy. Your magic is different, right? You control death.”
She nodded, her expression grave. “My father is a powerful Earthsinger. Apparently, my mother was too. But I was born different. I can’t turn a seed into a plant in an instant, I can’t control the weather or heal with a thought, the way they do, but I can kill with one. It’s only safe for me to live in Night Snow because of the wards in place to protect the Folk.”
Ember firmed his lips. He had not been warded since he was a youth. His shoulders sagged under her scrutiny.
“Does no one know about your… problem?”
He shook his head. “What do you think my father would do? Or my brother?” He snorted. “I’ve hidden my affliction for my entire life. Mother knew, and she told me I would grow out of it. But I’m grown now, and it’s still here. It’s paralyzing—I’ve tried so many things to get over it. In battle or in a match, blood is often drawn. It bothers me, but I can hide my reaction to it. However, my body shuts down when I try to spill my own blood.”
She leaned forward. “What if you become chief? How will you…?”
Their eyes met. So much of Cavefolk society and culture revolved around blood magic. While the shamans were true mages, all the Folk used the magic for a variety of everyday tasks: a snick here to call a child back home for dinner, a scratch there to ensure a fair price at the market. But the chief used the blood for more important tasks—rituals to protect the harvest, for the health of the people, for their security and welfare.
“I need your help, Mooriah. Everyone knows how skilled a blood mage you are. Glister got her apprenticeship through favors and family ties, but you earned yours—unheard of for the unclanned. You can teach me, find some way to help me get over this