Page 79 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

“You’re sure you don’t want to stop to rest? Or eat, even? We’re in no rush, I promise you.” The mage had asked me that twice now, and I could only imagine the furrow his face was worked into just based on the twist of his mouth.

Well, it was that, and the healthy time I’d spent thinking up what his entire face looked like as a bit of a distraction during my drills.

I had tried to peek beneath his hood more than once, but between our similar heights and the wisps of shadowy glamor that clung to his face, my attempts fell flat.

I’d decided he had to be scarred. Horrifically.

Missing an eye. Maybe both.

Not that I was well-versed enough in any magic to make inferences, but I was sure he could navigate his way around with some kind of ethereal aid. I also hadn’t glimpsed a single tuft of hair making its way out of the confines of his hood or caught a single strand anywhere on his clothing, which begged the argument that he could have been scalped. Though I thought I had glimpsed light-colored hair when he was out on the terrace with Maksym the night of our group dinner, and I supposed the entire shadowed hood business would have been a bit much when he could’ve just worn⁠—

“Miss Wynn?”

A fresh wave of heat bloomed over my face. “I’m fine, I’m sure.” Forcing my attention away from the mage’s hooded visage, I kicked a small rock along the edge of the path. “We’re spending the rest of the day focusing on weaponry, right? I’ll probably need a break after that, but whatever Eilir gave me⁠—”

I stiffened as the rock bounced, picked up, and let out an ear-piercing squeal. Two pincers shot out from its body, snapping in our direction, and my jaw went slack.

“And that is a rock crab,” Jasper chuckled as it tore off the pathway into the brush. “Seabirds scoop them up with other fish and abandon them out here when they realize they can’t get through their carapace.”

I huffed a breath as I watched the bush rustle and shift. “Seabirds? How far is the water from the Keep?”

Jasper hummed a contemplative noise. “By steed? The docks in Embervale are a couple of hours away, but there’s a network of sea caves and a strait much closer.”

“…are there ways other than by steed?” I realized the stupidity of my question the moment it left my lips, and the mage smirked.

“On foot, of course. Beautiful walk, but definitely not worth the effort.” He paused before adding. “There’s stepping too, you know. There and back in the blink of an eye.”

I let out a breath. “Right. I’m going to have to remember that, I guess.” My attention drifted out to the copses lining the pathway as the not entirely comforting reality settled in.

In Odessa, I knew about magic, but only the most basic principles. My people, after all, were not gifted by the gods in the same way that high and dark fae were. Many Odessans could amplify elements, but just as many—like myself—couldn’t, and for those who could, their skills varied greatly. Some could only stoke an ember to a wisp of flame with intense concentration, while others could take that wisp and ignite a forest with the pass of their hand.

None could conjure something from nothing, though.

That was not the case for the fae who inhabited my new home, but it was painful to accept that I knew little else about the magic they wielded.

A small, empathetic smile graced Jasper’s mouth when I looked back at him. “We’ll teach you plenty, don’t worry. Max will see that you’re plenty educated in all⁠—”

“Can he plane step?” I blurted over the mage, who huffed a laugh.

“No, he can’t.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Can you?”

The mage lifted a single shoulder and dropped it without saying a word.

I scoffed at him. “Eilir said they couldn’t plane step with me because I was too big. Is it the same for fae, or…?”

He shook his head. “The sprites are built differently. The makeup of their bodies is meant to pass through planes with ease. Eilir could step the entire colony from the woods if they had to, but it would be incredibly dangerous for them to move something built entirely differently from them, especially a body that isn’t built on any magic.”

“Oh.”

Truthfully, my voidness had never bothered me—it was common enough that half my friends growing up were in the same position—but I couldn’t help the tiny pang of disappointment in my chest. It was quickly outweighed, though, by a thought that made me wholly uncomfortable.

“But fae can plane step with someone else?” I asked. “Or with…multiple someone elses? Like…an entire camp, say?”

Jasper’s lips parted, and he gave me a slow, uneasy nod. “Yes. Most who haven’t refined their craft can bring another being or two with them. It’s not exactly a comfortable experience for everyone involved, but they can. A plane stepper who is more moderately skilled could move a large crowd a few times before they needed to rest. And one who has honed their craft extensively could move entire armies if they wanted to.”

That did nothing to ease the new pit in my stomach.