CHAPTER SEVEN

After a restless sleep, Wren found her heart scabbed over in the daylight. It wasn’t enough to feel entirely manageable, but it was enough to keep her from crumbling. To stave off the guilt, to keep herself from being torn apart, she’d have to keep herself busy. So she let her focus shift to her immediate needs. She let herself notice that she was cold and hungry and sore from hours of leaning against the door of the carriage. At least one of those she could fix. With a pulse of healing magic, she rubbed away the soreness in her muscles. It was a superfluous, careless use of magic, but the tingle of it on her fingertips filled her with relief. She still had it, all hers. She hadn’t been Severed. She wasn’t in a mine.

She was free.

The storm Basil promised hadn’t arrived yet, although it clotted the sky thick and gray overhead. They wouldn’t have another opportunity to rest, so they took a detour to a small Cernosian town just a few hours’ ride from Lowry’s estate. It was little more than a smattering of houses huddled together on the mountainside like shingles on a sloped roof.

They stopped at the only inn, the Guiding Light. Beneath its happily piping chimney hung a sign engraved with a comically beatific depiction of the Goddess. She cradled a misshapen little starburst that Wren assumed gave the inn its name. But the strangest thing was that it burned incandescently—not with gas lamps or firelight, but with a harsh glow like magic.

“How is it doing that?” Wren asked Basil as they walked the horses to the stable.

Basil squinted up at it. “It’s electricity.”

“Electricity,” she repeated. “How does it work?”

He seemed puzzled. “Tubes and wires and generators. I’m afraid the science of it is beyond me.”

Wren eyed the sign warily before he beckoned her onward. As Basil curried the horses, he said, “I just need some food and a wink of sleep, then we’ll be on the road again. I don’t want us to get caught in this weather. This time of year, a good snow won’t thaw out until spring.”

That was months from now. No one would be able to come after her anytime soon.

In her room, Wren entertained herself by flicking a switch on and off—light chasing darkness, over and over again. Then, when she’d quite perplexed herself with wondering how it worked, she warmed herself at the fireplace. Its blazing light bathed everything in a soft, hazy glow. After the brutal ride here, she longed to bask in the heat and relax.