Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“And what are you?”
His eyes lingered on hers. “Knowledge.”
That was what he’d claimed his business was. Not what he was. But didn’t it make sense, with what he did for business and the way he’d acquired information for their plan without her having to lift a finger? “Well, that explains the library,” she said at last.
Something flashed in his eyes, dark and hungry. A look she’d seen right before he’d devoured her mouth at the Catos’ party. Her lips parted, a bubble of anticipation rising in her throat.
“Well, are you coming or not?” Kingston asked from the top of the stairs.
Kierse startled, pulling away from Graves. Though he didn’t appear to be flustered at all. He just strode toward Kingston without a word.
Kierse’s heart raced as she followed them. She needed that drink right about now.
Edgar exited right after she entered with a portfolio in his hand that had to contain the contents of their mission, as the table was now empty. Perhaps even Graves’s mentor didn’t know they were going to steal the spear. Interesting.
Kingston had already settled into one of the velvet armchairs, flicking a vine of holly away from the seat. He’d produced a pipe out of a pocket and added tobacco to it. Graves had gone to the bar. Kierse teetered between the two before taking a seat on the couch that had nearly given her a concussion that first night here and tucked her legs up underneath her. She watched as a container of matches materialized out of another of Kingston’s pockets. He puffed on the pipe a few times and then nodded approvingly.
“So, Kierse,” Kingston said, assessing her more closely, “Graves is always so reticent with information. I wasn’t even aware he’d taken on an apprentice. What ability have you manifested? How are you restoring your reserves?”
“Well,” she started, then glanced to Graves to see if he would interrupt the conversation, if he wouldn’t want her to tell Kingston, but he didn’t seem to mind. Perhaps he trusted this man. “I have immunity.”
Kingston pointed to the ceiling. “Ah ha! No wonder he’s keeping you here all to himself.”
“It’s not like that,” Graves said, stepping over with a drink for Kingston.
“Thank you, kind sir,” Kingston said.
Graves passed one to Kierse, who took a nice, comfortable gulp. Graves returned to the wet bar for his own drink, then sat on the opposite end of the couch with an ankle crossed over the opposite knee. He looked almost pleasant. None of his edges visible at all despite the flickering dim light.
“Immunity,” Kingston mused. “That is quite rare. Passive, though. Perhaps you don’t have to recharge.”
“No, she does,” Graves said.
Kierse’s head swung to his. He hadn’t said any of this to her. “What are you talking about?”
“Graves, honestly. Should I take over the girl’s education?” Kingston asked with a wide smile. He turned back to Kierse when Graves said nothing. “All warlocks have at least one main ability. Immunity for you. For me, persuasion. But I also have a lesser power—portaling. It’s how I arrived here, in fact. I stepped out of my home and straight onto Graves’s doorstep.”
Kierse couldn’t help herself. Her mouth hung open. “You . . . have the ability to step between one city and another?”
“Indeed. Very handy power. But it’s my lesser ability. Lesser powers take more energy to achieve properly. But all magic comes with a price. You will feel weaker after you’ve used your abilities, and then you will need to recharge them. Discovering your limitations, boundaries, and weaknesses comes first in training. That way, no one else can catch you unaware.”
Kierse looked to Graves in all but shock. He had been . . . training her this whole time. He’d nearly gotten her killed stealing those letters, but she could see now that it was part of his training regimen.
“You could have told me,” she hissed at him.
“I did tell you it was a test.”
“Ah, did he almost kill you?” Kingston asked with a boisterous laugh as he sucked on his pipe. “Classic weakness tactics.”
“Did you almost kill him?” Kierse blurted.
Kingston tipped his drink at Graves. “Naturally.”
Kierse shook her head. These people were ridiculous.
“Now, simultaneously with your other training, you should be discovering how you regenerate your abilities. Sleeping and eating help,” he said, patting his belly, “but using those alone takes much longer than a proper recharge.”
“Then how do I do it?”
Graves sighed. “It’s something different for everyone. Sometimes it has something to do with your past. A thing you did when you were a child that brought you peace, or something that gave you back a sense of your life as an adult.” His eyes went distant. “For Kingston, it’s art. He looks at, analyzes, critiques, and makes art, and his powers rejuvenate. He has a mild obsession with art museums.”