“That’s the second time in as many minutes you’ve told me what I’ll end up doing. Do you know me so well, Privileged Borbador?”
She felt the feather touch of Bo’s gloved fingers on her cheek and then he pulled away.
They sat in silence for some time, listening to the wind rush across the open field. Somewhere nearby an owl hooted in the darkness. Bo stood up suddenly and removed his jacket, putting it over Nila’s shoulders.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“I can hear your teeth chattering.”
She could see the white of his Privileged gloves standing out against the black of the night as he walked down the hill. Struggling against the nausea, she opened her third eye. Was he touching the Else?
The color of his body in the Else nearly overwhelmed her with its brightness. He spread his arms and she waited to see something more, but he just stood there, his face in the wind.
“Bo!” she hissed.
He came back up the hill toward her. “Hmm?”
“I saw it! A movement.”
“Where?”
“To the southeast. Moving along the dip between hills. At least, I thought I saw it. Maybe —”
“No.” Bo’s voice was grim, and she heard him crack his knuckles. “I saw it too. Stay here.”
He headed off in the direction where she’d seen the ever-so-soft glow in the Else, striding with the confidence of a man in daylight despite the darkness. She took a few nervous breaths, feeling even more alone in the windy darkness. She looked toward the Adran camp, watching the distant embers of their fires, and wished once more she were in the safety and warmth of her own bedroll.
Bo would say that there was no place safe for a Privileged.
Had he told her to stay behind to spare her the horrors of watching him torture some poor soul? Or because he thought she was weak?
Perhaps both.
She
was
a Privileged, he’d told her. She couldn’t afford to be weak to survive in this world. With the power of sorcery came the expectations of others. People would expect her to use her powers – for king or country or wealth. People would try to use her. She wondered if her own power would give her hungers. Not just the sexual urgings Bo had spoken of but the hunger for riches, servants, and authority.
The fear of it niggled at her. What could she do? Flee to some distant land and hope that no one ever noticed her? Or learn to control her sorcery, embrace the power it brought her? She didn’t want to be an evil person, yet Bo spoke of Privileged as if they had no choice. She felt as if there were a war inside of her already and that it would determine the kind of person she would be.
Bo, she realized, was in the throes of that very same war.
Nila climbed to her feet. Bo was cresting the next hill, moving farther away. She opened her third eye but could no longer spot the moving shadow of light in the Else. Bo was hidden as well, veiled in whatever trick he’d spoken of earlier.
She closed her third eye and stumbled after him, feeling her way in the dark.
She caught up to him a quarter of a mile and a twisted ankle later, limping up to where he crouched in the long grass. She could feel the intensity as he stared into the darkness like a cave lion stalking its prey. Without turning his head, he whispered, “What is it?”
“I should stay with you.”
A hesitation. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Whoever he is, he’s coming right at us. Don’t touch the Else – I’m going to trip him with earth and bind him with air, but my sorcery will be obscured from any Knacked that might be watching. You don’t know how to do any of that, so stay here until I have him.”
Nila hunkered down next to Bo, her knees wet from the grass. From the way Bo was facing, she guessed that the spy was traveling in the gully between two hills. She couldn’t see a thing, however, and waited for Bo to make his move.
She didn’t have to wait long. His arms suddenly came up, two shadows in the night, and she thought she saw a spark when