Page 36 of This Dark Descent
Damien sighed reluctantly. “I have an idea, but I don’t like it.”
Ari looked at him questioningly, but Reid only groaned. “I’m not calling her.”
“Calling who?” Ari asked.
“My sister,” Damien replied. “She’s an enchanter.”
IT TOOK TIMEfor Damien to convince her that Shira could be trusted, a truth she only accepted when he revealed that she too practiced Kinnish magic and knew about crafting golems. It was because of her that Damien had recognized the golem he’d seen in the enchant dealer’s shop on Rathsborne.
He took Widget from Reid, handing the cat to Ari to inspect. “She made him for Reid years ago, when he became a target for Loic’s temper.”
Reid rolled his eyes. “She made him to protect you and gave him to me because she knew you wouldn’t accept him.”
Ari marveled at the creature, the first golem she’d seen from another enchanter, even as she wondered why Shira had picked something so small to act as a protector. Golems were strong and loyal, but even they could only do so much wrapped in such a petite form. It was more than enough of a reason to trust Shira, but more than that, Ari couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk to someone else like her.
A few hours later, which Ari spent diligently reshaping the larger pieces of clay, Shira arrived. Her dark curls were braided down her back, her outfit still an amalgamation of black leather and knives that Reid seemed unable to look away from. She slid off her jacket and rolled up her sleeves, getting to work without a word.
Ari didn’t know what to make of operating alongside another Kinnish enchanter. She’d spent so long hiding her powers that the idea of what she was doing now had never seemed possible. There was a comfort in Shira’s presence that stemmed from more than the reassurance that they’d make the race deadline.
Ari peered at her over the horse’s back as they finished reattaching the legs. “If you’ve known about golems all along, why didn’t Damien just ask you to do this? Why go through all the trouble of finding me?”
Shira smiled. “Because I would have told him no.”
Ari recoiled. “Why? Do you want him to lose?”
“No,” she replied. “I don’t want him to play at all.”
Apparently, the skill for cryptic answers ran in their family because shegot nothing more out of Shira. They worked late into the night and rose early the next morning. Reid brought them tea and scones, refusing to look at Shira, whose flirtation clearly got under his skin.
Mikira arrived around noon, and they overheard her arguing with Reid at the sitting room door. She’d expected the horse to be ready that morning, and the excuses he gave her were poor, but he ushered her outside and the door closed on their conversation. Ari could only imagine how nervous this news must have made the girl. At this rate, she’d meet the horse only a few hours before putting both their lives at risk.
Damien was nowhere to be seen the entire day. She assumed he was tending to house business, meeting with tenants and running numbers with bookies, but Shira dropped several remarks about it until Ari finally gave in and asked, “Do you know where he is?”
“Not a clue,” she replied. “But you should ask him when he returns.”
Ari had the distinct feeling of being a fly that had wandered into a spider’s web. It wasn’t the same feeling she had around Damien, whose every interaction felt like moves on a board, but something far more assessing, as though Shira was waiting forherto make a move.
They finished the last of the clay sculpting early that evening, Ari’s fingers weaving the final bits of mane into place before she stood back to take the beast in. She was covered in clay from head to toe, her dark curls a wild mess, but it was done. With a sleek, muscular frame that would be the envy of any racer and keen, knowing eyes, it was a work of art even immobile.
Now there was only the magic.
“How many enchantments are you doing?” Shira asked, washing her hands in a bucket of water.
“Five,” Ari replied. “Speed, endurance, and agility for physical, and then a charm never to get lost and one to sense danger.”
Shira nodded. “The golem’s natural strength is practically a fourth physical enchantment. Smart.” She dried her hands on a clean cloth. “Which ones do you want me to do?”
Ari hesitated. Her reflex was to ask Shira to handle the ethereal ones, since she’d been unable to figure them out with the coin, but after all the work she’d put into the golem, she wanted to finish it herself. Shira was licensed. She’d been trained to do magic. Perhaps she could teach Ari to do the same.
“I’ve been struggling with the ethereal enchantments,” she said. “I’ve been practicing them on objects, but I don’t think they’re working, and they’re sporadic when they do.”
“Most enchanters struggle with them. What are you associating them with?”
Ari frowned. “What do you mean?”
Shira must have realized then how little she really knew, because she leaned back against Reid’s desk and explained, “Think of it this way. A large part of the spell’s effectiveness comes from your intent, right? Spells cast with a weak intent are in turn weaker. One of the easiest ways to strengthen your intent is by associating each type of enchantment with something. For example, if you associate strength with physical force, then you keep a representation of that force in the forefront of your mind while working the binding.”
This was the sort of information Ari couldn’t find in any textbook, the kind that could take her spellwork to the next level.
