Redemption of Thieves (Book 4) by C.Greenwood Page B

searched my clothes for that packet later. It was something very precious to me. Not until much later did I realize you had taken it.”
    “I’m truly sorry. But it didn’t matter in the end because I didn’t get the chance to open the thing. We were ambushed by the Fists and I was carried away prisoner. I woke in the dungeon of the Praetor’s keep with him standing over me, demanding to know where I had come by the brooch inside that packet. He claimed it belonged to his family and asked if my father had given it to me. I was in so much pain at the time. I didn’t understand what was happening. So I gave the answer he seemed to want—a lie. I said yes, the brooch was my father’s, given to me on his deathbed. After that he healed me. He returned the brooch to me—told me to wear it proudly. We never spoke of it again but it was immediately after this that he made a place for me in his household.”
    My pulse pounded in my head. All the pieces of the puzzle were suddenly falling into place. So much about Terrac’s connection to the Praetor now made sense. Only none of it was really about Terrac at all. It was about me.
    I seemed to hear my mama’s voice echoing back from the past. A snatch of overheard conversation between her and Da.
    “But your family…”
    “Are far away and they don’t know we have a child. Even if they did, what does it matter? I’m sure his anger has cooled by now—”
    For the first time, I knew who he was. I remembered the miniature portrait of my father hidden inside the Praetor’s silver box. Remembered how my parents had feared the fury of a dangerous relative who forbade them to be together out of hatred for mama’s magic.
    I began to tremble and felt sweat break out on my face.
    “Ilan? Are you all right?” Terrac asked with concern.
    I waved him to silence. He was suddenly the last person I wanted to discuss this with considering how much his theft of the brooch had unsettled both our lives. I scowled fiercely at my feet and turned the truth over in my mind, trying to get used to it.
    In the background the chanting of the savages grew louder and faster, as if they built toward the central point of their ceremony.
    I tried to set aside Terrac’s revelation and think of a solution to our immediate danger. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, counting my heartbeats and turning my thoughts inward. The singing of the Skeltai faded until there was only me, alone in the darkness. Me and the bow’s subtle yet familiar presence vaguely tickling at the back of my mind. I centered my thoughts on stillness, on peace, and stretched toward the well of magic always just a short distance away. There must be no hurry here. I had all the time in the world.
    There it was. A deep, cool pool at the edge of my vision. I had no idea what the magic actually looked like, but it always helped if I mentally summoned this image of a well. I envisioned my hand dipping deep into the shadowy pool, setting ripples flowing as I broke the surface. Power rushed through me, thrilling and seductive, but I clung to my purpose. I mustn’t be distracted by the endless possibilities the magic offered. I had come for one thing only. I drew deeply on the magic, then holding the power wrapped within me, I released the image of the well and slipped back into darkness. This was the tricky part. I had no idea how the Skeltai shaman did it, so I had to explore the shadows blindly, searching for the way.
    Scouring my mind of doubt, I coaxed the magic.
    I needed a window. A small portal, just big enough to let a sliver of light pierce the darkness. Only enough to see the way to my home on the other side.
    I envisioned a spot I knew well—a grassy patch at the foot of Horse Head rock in Dimmingwood. I imagined a tear in the ground, a little black hole ringed with blue fire, a door from this place to that.My manipulation of the magic was clumsy and unpracticed, like trying to paint a picture of a place I had never seen.