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Zinnia

Zinnia

A creak of the floorboards brought Zin out of her dozing. She

was sitting on the floor, back leaning against Rowan’s bed, chin on her

chest. Eldin crouched down by her side.

“That doesn’t look comfortable,” he said.

Zin stretched. She ached all over. “Not particularly.”

Eldin’s eyes swept over her, then stood and held out his hand.

She took it and allowed herself to be pulled up. Instead of letting go,

Eldin kept hold of her hand, turning it palm up. She watched curiously

as he dropped something into it.

“In my hands it’s only a trinket, but you may find use for it.”

A smile tugged on her lips. A bead sat in the center of her palm.

It was smooth, black, and shiny. Taking out the first one, she grabbed

three strands of hair, braided them, and attached the new bead to the

end. It was heavy and might even hurt.

“Here,” she grabbed Eldin’s hand and set the wooden bead in

it, closing his fingers even as he protested. “I want you to have it. My

mother and father aren’t the only ones I care for anymore.”

Eldin’s eyes roamed her face as she willed him to understand.

She was hyper-aware of her hands closed around his and how close they

were standing for the second time that night. Maybe now he would

realize she accepted him, no matter who, or what, he was.

This time, Eldin didn’t turn away. Zin licked her lips, heart

quickening. Eldin’s eyes were darker than she had ever seen them. He

pocketed the bead and tugged his mask around his neck. The room was

much warmer than it had been just moments ago.

Eldin brushed his fingers along her jawline and Zin tipped her

head toward his, lips parted. He closed the gap between them, taking

her face in both hands. There was only the slightest of hesitations before

pressing his mouth to hers.

Zin forgot everything, feeling only Eldin’s body pressed

against hers, his hands lost in her hair, his tongue slipping between her

lips. She ran her hands down his chest and slid them around his waist,

pulling him closer.

Her hands weren’t the only curious ones. Eldin’s fingers

caressed her neck, running over her collarbone, leaving a trail of tingles

wherever they touched.

“Oh, for dragon's sake. Go find your own room already. ”

A pillow flattened against Zin’s back. She gasped and whirled

around, hands on her hips. Rowan had sat up, his face still pale, and

nose wrinkled in mock disgust.

***

They stayed in Laketown for the next week. Rowan’s fever

came back once, but broke quickly and stayed away. He used the

medicine religiously, and the color in his face came back quickly.

He didn’t say much as they prowled the market. To be fair,

Eldin had told them to pay attention to their surroundings, but he hadn’t

been very good at it before. Now he was taking what Eldin said more

seriously, stopping at stalls to look at wares while actually noting down

prices and the reactions to them.

A family of piscines moved from stall to stall, the children

pointing and gasping at all the colorful products for sale. Zin was

poking a fluffy hat when she caught Rowan slipping the children a gold

regal. He had a smile she hadn’t seen since before he got sick, but when

he turned back toward her, the smile was gone.

“Zin,” Eldin whispered in her ear.

She gasped in surprise and hissed, “Don’t do that!”

“There’s a Ghost here. He’s stalking Rowan. Whatever

happens, don’t get involved.”

Zin nodded, a lump in her throat. Eldin melted back into the

crowd as she scanned it. The Ghost was nowhere in sight, but someone

she recognized was flitting between the market goers wearing a half

sized black cloak.

“Ghost girl!”

It was the dark-haired apprentice from Nōmahsah.

“Damn it, pretend you don’t know me!” Zin said, pretending to

look at another hat. He stood behind the stall and they spoke through

the thin, makeshift cloth wall.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“We’re looking for the prince. Did you hear he was kidnapped

by another Ghost?” The boy paused. “Did your master kidnap him?”

“We didn’t kidnap anyone,” Zin said, glancing over her

shoulder. Rowan was across the town square. A shadow was closing in

on him. The hair on the back of Zin’s neck stood up.

“He’s found him.” The dark-haired boy was watching his

master closely.

Zin couldn’t help it. She turned just in time to see a black￾cloaked figure rush Rowan. Her eyes widened, but the Ghost shadowed

right through him and Rowan dissipated into shadow.

“What?! Aghk!” The apprentice made a strangled sound and

Zin jumped around the wall. Eldin stood behind him, a dagger at his

throat.

“Who are you?”

Zin had forgotten how deadly his voice was when turned on an

enemy. It chilled her.

“C-Callahan.” The apprentice swallowed hard.

“Call your master and I’ll slit your throat right here,” Eldin

growled.

Zin glanced at Callahan’s hand. He had been curling his fingers

to touch the Rite. Now a blade sprouted from between them. Scarlet

blood ran in rivulets and dripped from his fingertips.

“Where’s the prince?” Callahan asked, his voice an octave

higher than normal.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Eldin withdrew the blades,

kicked the boy in the back of the knee, and disappeared in a flourish of

shadows, reappearing to grab Zin. The crushing darkness sucked her in,

and they materialized on a rooftop behind a cage of chatty crows.

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“Rowan!” she cried in relief. He was crouching behind it,

standing as he saw them, but Eldin didn’t stop there. He hooked

Rowan’s arm, and they were gone again, leaping roofs until they arrived

at the stables.

“Horses, now.”

They obeyed. They had saddled the horses before heading to

the market, proving Eldin’s ability to think ahead once again. Zin

swung open the stall door and leapt into Azra’s saddle, patting the

horse’s neck, and backed her out.

“Ahead of me. Head toward the far gate and just keep going,

no matter what happens.”

Zin took the lead, with Rowan right behind. Shoppers and

children clogged the streets, and they could only go so fast. They had

made it to the main road and could see the gates when the hair on Zin’s

neck stood up for a second time. She flicked Azra’s reins, no longer

caring how many people were in the way.

Callahan stood at the mouth of an alleyway, staring at them. A

whoosh of air rustled Zin’s hair, and she ducked instinctively. A clang

turned her. Two black figures stood with blades locked in the middle of

the road, separating her and Rowan. He maneuvered Trigg around them

at a canter, forcing two shoppers to dive into an open doorway. The

second Ghost twisted away from Eldin and threw a knife.

“Rowan!” Zin screamed.

He pulled on the reins, but wasn’t fast enough. The knife buried

into his shoulder and he lurched forward, gasping and barely hanging

on. Zin pulled level with him, and as she did so, a black shadow streaked

toward them.

“This will hurt,” she said, reaching over and yanking the blade

from Rowan’s shoulder. Blood sluiced from the wound. He screamed.

The Ghost materialized as Zin swung and buried it up to the hilt in his

neck.

His eyes widened as he crashed into Zin and Azra. All three of

them slammed into the ground. Azra whinnied and rolled upright,

trotting over to Trigg as Rowan lay slumped across his neck.

Zin hit shoulder first, and an explosion of pain raced down her

arm. She curled around it, breath coming in ragged gasps. Blinking back

tears, she found Eldin standing between her and the other Ghost.

He pulled the knife from his throat, massaging the gaping hole

until a shadow stitched it up.

“You win this time, Eldin. But I’m coming for you. You, your

prince, and your little girly.”

With a sign and a cracked word, he was gone.

Eldin shadowed to Rowan’s side, catching him as he slipped

off Trigg. Zin sat up, wincing as another bolt of pain hit her shoulder.

She couldn’t feel her fingers.

He was back, gently grasping her other arm and pulling her to

her feet. Worry pooled in his eyes, and she gave him a pained smile.

Rowan hung onto his other side, awake but swaying, his face contorted

into a snarl.

“Dislocated,” Eldin said, glancing at her shoulder. “Can you

handle it?”

Zin nodded, and he let her go, turning to Rowan and lowering

him to the ground.

“Kūma.” The horse trotted over. “This won’t feel good.”

Rowan shut his eyes and grit his teeth. Zin knelt next to him

and took his hand. He didn’t look at her, but he didn’t pull away either.

Eldin used his dagger to slice Rowan’s bloodied shirt from his

torso and pulled a small box from his saddlebag. Zin glanced up as he

took a curved needle and thread from it. She sucked in air through her

teeth and Rowan looked at her, eyes wide.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, averting her head. A crowd had

gathered at the edges of the road to watch them. A little boy was

pointing as his mother held him close to her skirts.

She knew it had begun when Rowan’s grip turned iron hard.

The bones in her fingers ground together, and it was all she could do to

keep from pulling away. At least it distracted her from her shoulder.

“Done.” Eldin poured water over the wound and stepped back.

“Zin, you next. Then Rowan needs some of that poultice I gave you.”

She took a deep breath and faced him. “Do it.”

Eldin grabbed her wrist, pulled her arm outwards, and pushed

the shoulder back into place. Zin yelped and her knees buckled, but he

caught her. The crowd that gathered cheered. He glared at them.

Collectively, they took a step back and dispersed two at a time.

“Poultice and we have to go.” He stood her back on her feet.

She reached into her bag and shuffled things around, finding the phial

at the bottom. Walking over to Rowan, she smeared it across the

stitches.

“Try not to break them when you get on Trigg,” Eldin said,

taking the reins of the horses and leading them back to their owners. He

made sure they were both mounted before climbing on Kūma and

leading them out of town.

Eldin was silent long enough that Zin started plucking at a loose

string on her dress. Rowan hadn’t spoken either and was drinking from

a waterskin.

“You met him at Nōmahsah.”

Zin flinched. She knew it was coming, but the flatness in his

voice was almost as scary as his Ghost voice.

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“Three, all apprentices.”

“Impressive.”

Zin glanced sideways at him. “What is?”

“That they kept their mouths shut this long.”

Rowan’s eyes flickered between them.

“What happens now?” Zin asked.

“We go south. Lay low. Kill time. Then we head to the Abyss.”

Zin stared at him, wondering why they would go back, and then

she remembered. “The Trials.”

Eldin gave a slow nod.

“What are you talking about?” Rowan asked, scowling.

“My only option to keep you two safe is to join the Ghost Trials

and become Sahmȳl. Leader of the Ghosts.”

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