The Deceiver's Heart (The Traitor's Game 2) - Page 67

I drew in a sharp breath, horrified at the direction of my thoughts. What if victory against Lord Endrick cost me a future with Simon? I didn’t want that, I’d never choose that.

But I probably had already lost him. I’d be a fool to think otherwise.

I’d lost him. Nothing else would have stopped him from rescuing me in the Dominion camp. Instead, he sent Basil. Simon would be here now too, if he had wanted that. He was letting me go.

And the worst part was that I didn’t blame him. Not after my role in the loss of his mother. Whether I deserved such blame didn’t matter; I remembered with perfect clarity his last expression as he looked at me. How broken he’d looked, how empty.

“Kestra?” Wynnow was climbing the hillside and stopped by my side. “We’re ready to leave.”

I started toward the camp, but Wynnow touched my arm and lowered her voice. “You should tell Loelle not to join us.”

“Why?”

“Tenger and I spoke last night of his plans for you. He wants Loelle to come to be sure they are carried out.”

“What plans?”

She huffed, as if she was reluctant to say anything more, and yet knew it had to be done. “They want you to complete your quest as the Infidante. But when it’s complete, they will … well, they do not want another Endrean with magic.”

“Loelle is another Endrean with magic.”

“They do not want you to have magic, my lady.”

My fists curled. I marched down the hillside to find Tenger saddling my horse, and Loelle already on hers, ready to leave. But I held my temper enough to say, “Wynnow and I will go to Brill alone.”

Unaware of how furious I was, Tenger casually shook his head. “Loelle needs to go. If the last few days have proved nothing else, it should be that a lot of people mean to harm you. You may need her help.”

My laugh sounded bitter, and I’d intended it be so. “What kind of help do you mean? After I kill Endrick, will I need Loelle’s help to die?”

Tenger suddenly looked as if he’d just swallowed his tongue, which was all the answer I needed. I yanked my horse’s reins away from him and started to follow Wynnow out of camp, but he called out, “Yes, Kestra, what you are saying is true.”

I stopped and turned with my mouth half-opened, incredulous that he would be so forthcoming.

He wasn’t finished. “The truth is that because you’re only half Endrean, we don’t know how magic will affect you, but we do know what it’s done to full-blooded Endreans. If I see signs of corruption in you, then it will force me to act.” Tenger spoke so dispassionately, I wondered if he remembered we were discussing my life, and not some tactical battle plan. “I know how harsh that sounds, but if you had seen the destruction waged by the Endreans on this land during the war, you’d agree with me.”

I shifted my weight, unable to counter his argument with anything more compelling than my desire to live. All I could think to say was, “I will not let that happen to me.”

He smiled. “It is my sincerest hope not. But until then, should anything go wrong, Loelle can save your life. She is also the only one who understands magic, unless you plan to ask Endrick for advice. Complete your quest and then we can discuss your future.”

Wynnow had descended the hill to stand at my side. With her eyes narrowed on Loelle, she said, “The Brillians will protect you. If necessary, from the Coracks.”

“The Coracks aren’t the problem,” I mumbled. “It’s the reason I might need protection from them that matters.”

I stared at Loelle, then reluctantly nodded my permission for her to come. She fell in behind Wynnow and me as we rode away, though we’d only rounded the first bend before she caught up with me. “I can explain.”

“Don’t.” Whatever she said would either be a lie or yet another conversation about the ever-growing number of people in line for my life. Neither was worth the effort of listening.

But Loelle talked anyway. “Kestra, your mother—your real mother, Anaya, had a powerful magic, that of cloaking her presence from others. But her true strength was simply in her determination, her forceful will. We see that same strength in you, and we’d be fools to overlook its potential for danger.”

“I’d think you’d be glad to see an Infidante with such willpower.”

“As Infidante, yes. You will need those traits to succeed. But what happens after you do, after you are an Endrean holding the Olden Blade, able to wield it just as he did?”

I looked back at her. “What do you mean? That the powers of the Olden Blade will pass to me?”

“We don’t know. Nor are we sure how the magic will affect you.”

“My mother was never corrupted.”

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen The Traitor's Game Fantasy
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