The Chronicles Of Ixia (Books 1-6). Maria V. Snyder
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“Rituals?” Dread coiled in my stomach.
“Wedding ceremonies and naming rituals.” Leif scowled in concentration. “Thousands of years ago, magicians used to perform intricate rituals. They believed that magical power came from a deity, and if they tattooed their bodies and showed the proper respect, they would be granted greater power. Now we know better. I’ve seen some symbols painted on faces and hands before, but not like the ones on Tula’s attacker.”
Leif pulled his black hair back behind his head with both hands. With his elbows jutting out past his face, his posture seemed so familiar. I felt like I could transport back to a time when my concerns only focused on what game to play next. The faint childhood memory dissolved with my efforts to concentrate on it.
Tula covered her eyes, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. Reliving the kidnapping and the torment had to be grueling.
“Get some rest,” Leif told her. “I’ll come back later. Perhaps Second Magician will know something about those symbols.” He left the room.
The morning’s events had drained my own small supply of energy. I knew words would give no comfort to Tula, so I was relieved when Opal came in. Seeing her sister’s concern, Tula sobbed loudly, and Opal crawled into the bed with her, held Tula close and rocked her like a baby. I fell asleep listening to Tula purge her body of the masked man’s poison.
We had visitors throughout the rest of the day. Cahil came, smelling of the barn.
“How’s Kiki?” I asked, missing her. Even though my connection with her remained, I couldn’t produce enough power to hear her thoughts.
“A little agitated. All the horses are. The Stable Master’s been in one of his tempers. Horses take their cues from people’s emotions. If a rider is nervous, then the horse will be, too.” Cahil shook his head. “I still have a hard time believing you can communicate with them. Guess today is just one of those days where my notions are proven wrong.”
“Why’s that?”
“I thought you were an overconfident braggart when you said you could help Tula. But you did it.” Cahil studied me.
I conceded the overconfidence title. My rescue of Commander Ambrose’s soul had seemed easy in comparison to Tula’s, but I had forgotten that Irys had been with me in the Commander’s room, and it had been his superior fighting skills and determination that had gotten us free of his demons.
“You almost killed yourself saving Tula, though,” Cahil said. “Was it worth the risk to prove me wrong again?”
“My motivations weren’t selfish,” I snapped at him. “I wanted to help her. I understood what she’s been through and I knew she needed me. Once I had an idea about how I could find her, I didn’t stop to think. I just reacted.”
“And the danger to yourself never entered your mind?”
“Not this time.” I sighed at his aghast expression.
“You have put yourself in danger for others before?”
“I was the Commander’s food taster.” This was common knowledge, unlike my role in stopping Brazell.
Cahil nodded. “A perfect position to overhear the Commander’s plans. He used you as a shield. You should want to help overthrow him. Why do you hold such loyalty for him?” Frustration roughened his voice.
“Because of my position, I saw through his reputation. I witnessed kindness and a deep concern for his people. He didn’t abuse his power, and, while he is far from perfect, he always stayed faithful to his beliefs. Reliable and true to his word, you never had to guess at hidden meanings or suspect duplicity from him.”
His stubbornness refused to soften. “You’ve been brainwashed, Yelena. Hopefully, you’ll regain some sense after living in Sitia for a while.” Cahil left without waiting for a reply.
Our conversation had drained me. I drifted in and out of an uneasy sleep the rest of that afternoon. The masked man invaded my dreams, hunting me through a thick jungle.
Toward evening Dax Greenblade surged into the room, energizing the air.
“You look like hell,” he said to me in a low voice. Tula and Opal had fallen asleep in Tula’s narrow bed.
“Gee, Dax, don’t coat it with honey. Tell me what you really think,” I said.
He covered his mouth to mute his laughter. “I figured I’d hit you while you were down, because once you hear the rumors that have been flying through the campus like bare feet on hot sand, your ego will think it’s a compliment.” In a grand gesture, Dax swept his arms into the air. “You have become a legend!”
“A legend? Me?” Disbelief colored my voice.
“A scary legend,” he amended, “but a legend all the same.”
“Come on! How gullible do you think I am?”
“Simple enough to think you can find someone’s consciousness alone.” Dax waved a hand over my bed. “Although, it’s not so stupid if this was an attempt to get out of class. But if you see your fellow students scurrying to get out of your way, now you know why. Here comes Yelena, the all powerful Soulfinder!”
I threw my pillow at Dax. His magic brushed my skin as the pillow veered to the right and struck the wall with a soft thump before sliding to the floor. I glanced at the girls. They appeared to be asleep.
“Now you’re exaggerating,” I said.
“Can you blame me? Cursed with the ability to read and speak archaic languages, Master Bain has me translating ancient history. Very dry and dull.” Dax retrieved my pillow and even fluffed it before returning it to me.
When Leif entered the room carrying a large square box, Dax leaned close to me and whispered, “Speaking of dull …”
I suppressed a chuckle. Dax left as Leif began to unpack small brown vials. The clink of glass woke Tula and Opal. Tula eyed the bottles with obvious alarm.
“What are those?” I asked Leif.
“Scent vials,” he said. “Each one contains a specific odor. Mother and Father helped me make these. Smells trigger memories, which aid me in finding criminals. But I figured I could use this kit as a start in determining the ointment that Tula’s attacker used.”
Interested, Tula tried to sit up. Opal got off the bed to help her. Leif rummaged through his collection of about thirty vials until he had lined up ten of them.
“We’ll try these first.” He uncorked one and passed it under my nose. “Breathe normally.”
I wrinkled my nose and sneezed. “No. That’s awful.”
A small smile touched Leif’s face as he put that vial away.
“Leif?” Tula asked. “What about me?”
He hesitated. “You’ve done so much already; I didn’t want to exhaust you.”
“I want to help, too. Better than lying here doing nothing.”
“All right.” He had us sniff three more vials. Tula and I each smelled different ones, and then we took a break for dinner.
“Too many scents will give you a headache, and you won’t be able to tell the difference between them after a while,” he explained.
Leif spent the evening with us. My interest began to wane, but he kept at it even when he neared the bottom of the box. I was on the edge of sleep when a sharp odor jolted me.
Leif held an uncorked bottle. Tula cowered in her bed, her hands raised as though she tried to deflect a blow. Leif squinted in confusion.
“That’s it,” I cried. “Can’t you smell it?”
He passed the vial under his nose,