Reflection Pond (19 page)

Hawthorne frowned.
“Nothing solid.”

“And the wards?”
Rowan prompted.

“Intact.” Hawthorne gave him a strange look.

“Hm,” was Rowan’s response.

“Do you think it someone inside the city?
A traitor?” Ash asked, leaning in closer.

It took Hawthorne a long time to answer, so long that Rowan didn’t trust his careful response. “I think that Callie is special and that someone knows more than they’re saying.” He glanced at Rowan. “Whatever this is—it’s not the end.” Then he propped open the door and surveyed the room.

“See you later,” Rowan said, striding off.

“Bye?” Ash said, confused.

Rowan muttered an excuse about training. He lingered around the corner, just out of their sight, listening. A large part of him wanted to remain stationed at Callie’s bedside until she woke, and possibly after that as well. If her poisoning was an inside job, then he couldn’t trust anybody. But, if Hazel wanted Callie as badly as Sapphire thought, then Hazel would protect Callie with everything she had.

“Guard duty, huh?” Ash said, voice filtering down the hall.
“Nothing like tracking.”

Hawthorne made a rude sound. “It’s boring. Besides, I can’t figure out why everyone
is so taken with her. She’s just a child.”

Ash made a noncommittal sound and Rowan almost laughed.

“Hazel has us guarding her twenty-four seven now, and she’s restricting her to the palace. Personally, I think it’s a waste of time,” Hawthorne said.

Rowan listened for a few more minutes, but the boys had grown silent. He moved farther down the corridor, intent on seeking out Hazel. He didn’t have to go far before he heard her voice seeping beneath a closed door. Rowan pressed himself to the wall to hear
better.

“I should kill you for this,” Hazel hissed.

A laugh. “Kill me? You couldn’t. The girl wasn’t part of the plan.”

Rowan recognized the voice.
Elm. Anger burned the back of his throat.

“Forget the plan,” Hazel said. “She’s going to take me farther than anything you came up with.”

Elm laughed again. “Arol will only use her against you.”

“I’m not afraid of Arol.”

There was a long pause before Elm spoke again. “I won’t let you have her. It’s supposed to be me at your side. She’s supposed to die.”

“That’s not really your choice anymore,” Hazel said.

“Have you forgotten what I know?” Elm whispered. “I killed Orchid so you could have Sapphire. Callie is the perfect fall for that. You can’t cast me out now. I know all your dirty secrets. I’ll tell them what you did.”

“I’m not afraid of you, either,” Hazel said.

A loud thump shuddered through the floor. Rowan pushed away from the door, making it to the stairs just as the door swung open. He flattened against the wall, just out of sight. Hazel emerged. She looked both directions and smoothed her skirt before shutting the door and locking it from the outside.

***

“You can’t keep showing up here. Someone is bound to notice,” Sapphire chided. She stood at her kitchen table, which was piled high with stacks of books from the library.

Rowan lifted a shoulder and pretended to be interested in a volume about horticulture. “Elm poisoned Callie.” Even though Sapphire was the nicest person in
Eirensae,
he always felt small when he stood beside her. Her chin came to his shoulders. Her presence made up the difference.

Sapphire sighed and pushed hair from her face. “I know.”

Rowan told himself he wouldn’t yell at the prophetess, that he wouldn’t get angry. The hard edge of his restraint softened. “Why didn’t you stop it?”

She sighed again and closed her eyes. “Don’t you think I wanted to? It’s not that easy. I can’t just impede fate, Rowan, no matter what I know.”

He broke his promise not to yell.
“She nearly died.”

Sapphire’s shoulders shuddered and she pressed both hands to her mouth, stifling a sob.
Quieter now, “I know.”

“You could’ve gone to Hazel. You could’ve come to
me.
I would’ve protected her.”

“No.” She shook her head. “No.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”
he yelled.

Sapphire jumped and the tears she fought spilled down her cheeks.

Rowan backtracked. “I’m sorry—”

She slid into a chair at the table, shoulders curved as though she hefted a heavy burden. “When the prophetess died—”

“Was murdered.”

“Was murdered,” she amended, “I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Time is long for us and somehow it was over before…before I even had a chance to comprehend what was happening. I’ve had the visions
forever,”
she glanced at Rowan with watery eyes, “but I never really understood what they meant. But now…Callie will bring the next war, Rowan. Her powers are too great for any one fae. Whatever city has her will rule. I’ve seen her next to Hazel, I’ve seen her with Arol. It’s as though her path changes every day.”

Rowan felt the blood drain from his face. “What do we do?”

“Train her to fight—and to use her powers.” Sapphire bit her lip as thought debating how much to tell. “She’s strong, but not invincible.” She reached out, covered his hand, her touch cold. “Hazel wants Callie’s power. And she’ll do anything to have it. She’ll ruin the entire city.”

“We have to keep Callie away from Hazel. She had Elm kill Orchid. She could come after you.”

Sapphire swallowed and nodded. “We’re in great danger, Rowan, all of us. I’ll find a way to remove the binding spell from Callie. But you have to know, out there in the human world she’s a target. The Fallen will hunt her and so will Hazel. She’s not safe anywhere.”

***

Rowan looked up when Ash strode into the library sometime later. “I thought you were with Callie,” he said.

“I was. She just went back to the palace for the night.”

Rowan shut the book and made to stand.

“Jack is with her. She’s fine, Row.”

He sat back down. “Last night—” Rowan broke off at the emotion in his throat.

“I know,” Ash said. “She scared me, too. But she’s safe now, because Elm admitted to poisoning Callie and Hazel banished him.”

Rowan’s insides went cold. “Who told you that?”

“Jack.
Said they sent him out of the northern gate a couple of hours ago.” Ash flopped into the chair across from Rowan. “I always knew he was an asshole, but to poison one of your own? I’m surprised, even from him.”

Rowan made a noncommittal sound, deciding to keep what he’d overheard to himself.
Elm was either dead or banished, and Callie was safer with him gone.

CHAPTER TEN

Rowan tossed the quarterstaff. It landed next to Callie in the grass, where she lay face-up, gasping for air. She pushed up on her elbows and squinted through the sweat dripping in her eyes. Rowan stood, arms crossed, waiting for her to stand. Though they’d spent nearly two hours training, he looked as he had when they started, calm, cool, and remarkably sweat free.

“Get up,” he ordered.

Callie sighed and climbed to her knees. Two weeks had passed since the poisoning and things had returned to normal, if one considered being locked in the palace normal. Callie lived for training with Rowan, though it left her exhausted, bruised, and sore. She rubbed her arm where a fresh welt rose from the bite of Rowan’s staff. It’d join the rest of her mottled skin, which ranged in tones from purplish-blue to jaundice-yellow. She’d never admit it to Rowan, but she took a scalding shower every night to work out the kinks in her muscles. Sometimes she hurt so badly that it was torture just to drag herself into bed.

She never complained, no matter how hard it got, no matter how many times she fell. If she wasn’t out here in the sunlight with Rowan, then she was stuck in her room at the palace, studying and staring at the four walls. Mornings and evenings, she worked with Ash, and afternoons, when the sun was the brightest and warmest, she spent with Rowan. Occasionally, she was allowed to search for her amulet, never with Rowan
like she wanted to, and always with a guard.

She’d thought the night in the hospital would change her friendship with Rowan, that he’d become less reserved, but she was wrong. Even though they spent hours together every day, Rowan retreated further inside himself. He didn’t speak to Callie, unless it was to correct her form, and anytime she mentioned searching for his amulet, his eyes grew dark and he went on as though she’d never brought it up.

Sometimes, she wondered if he regretted saving her life, or thought training her was too much of a burden. She devoted herself to being the best possible student, but Rowan’s mood never improved.

To add to her list of displeasures, Callie had two guards with her at all times. They flanked her as she crossed the grounds to train, searched every room she entered, tasted her food before she ate it. She found the entire process mortifying. Today her guards, Jack and Hawthorne, watched her train from the edge of the grass. Jack lifted his arms, mimicking a hit with the staff, and pointed to Callie. Hawthorne chuckled and both their gazes turned toward her again.

She’d like to see them fight Rowan
.
She caught up the quarterstaff and stood, anticipating the next blow. Rowan feinted right and struck low. Callie swung her staff to parry his hit. He recovered in less than a heartbeat and used the other end to knock her feet from beneath her. Callie slammed into the ground. Her teeth snapped together and she tasted blood. Sparkles danced behind her eyes and she was grateful to be lying down. Rowan shoved a hand in her face, and she let him help her up.

“Again,” he said before the pain had time to recede.

Callie took a slow breath, clearing her head. She searched for repetition in Rowan’s movements, some precursor to his intentions, but found none. It was as though he moved by impulse, never by thought. This time, she struck first with a weak hit to Rowan’s ribs. When he moved to counter, Callie jammed her staff into the ground, used it as leverage to get her feet in the air, and slammed Rowan in the chest. His counter move as he fell back thunked uselessly against her staff and his eyes widened.

The motion threw her off balance, and she tumbled to the ground after him. Callie rolled away and on to her feet, expecting another attack. Rowan, for once, was on his back, staring up at the sky, his staff discarded at his side.

He didn’t move.

She gloated for a moment in victory, insides dancing with glee. It
was the first time she’d taken him down.

Fear skittered into her stomach when Rowan
remained still. Across the field, Jack and Hawthorne stood.

“Rowan?”
She crossed the short distance. His mouth was twisted into a grimace, eyes squeezed shut. “Are you okay?” Her gaze traveled over his face, down his arms, across his legs, searching for broken bones. She hadn’t hit him
that
hard.

Suddenly his hands were on her ankle. He twisted and she flew off balance, crashing into him, limbs flailing. Rowan slammed his arm across her chest, rolled, and pinned her underneath his body faster than Callie could cry out in surprise. When the world stopped swinging around her, she glared at him, pissed that he’d taken her glory.

“You couldn’t let me have that one, could you?”

A rare smile twitched on his mouth. He eased off her and offered a hand. “That was a good attack, I think we’re done for today.” When she stood, he kept hold of her arm, frowning at the bruises. “I’m being too hard on you.”

Callie pulled her arms away and hid them behind her back. “It’s okay. I’m learning.”

Rowan continued to stare at her until she swallowed, uneasy.

“I mean it,” she insisted.

He shrugged.
“Whatever you say.” He hefted the staffs and started toward the palace.

She hurried after him, biting her lip against the pain in her legs. “Can you teach me hand-to-hand combat?” she asked when she caught up. Rowan’s last move had taken her by surprise. She didn’t want it to happen again.

Rowan slowed and tucked the staffs under his arm, catching her hand. For a second she thought he was going to hold it and before she could decide her feelings on that, he lifted it to his eye level, examining the bruises and scrapes. “You should let me heal those.” Another smile. “I feel bad—only a little—but still bad.”

She tugged her fingers away. “Hand-to-hand?” she prompted.

Rowan sighed. “Tell you what. You let me heal you and we’ll talk.”

“You promise?”

“I guess,” he said, lifting a shoulder.

“That’s not a promise.”

They’d reached the inside of the city where the buildings blocked the sun. Jack and Hawthorne trailed behind, still talking about her training session.

“Do you want me to swear it with my true name?” Rowan asked.