Page 76 of Sword & Shadow
He looked up at Auden. “I thought you said that Ephrians can’t be Mages.”
“We’ve already established that you aren’t wholly Ephrian,” he replied.
“When did we establish that?” Thom demanded.
“Just after we arrived in Wauld,” Ethenn said, turning one of his knives thoughtfully. “We were discussing why Blount wants the Relics, and Auden suggested that it’s because he wants to control the whole continent so that he controls all magic along with it. MagesandWarriors.”
Auden gave the hunter a nod. “Exactly. Ilain and I have recognized the signs of the West in both Deckard brothers. Though more predominantly in Jonn.”
Thom shook his head. “That’s not possible. The war put a stop to cross-border dalliances almost two centuries ago.”
“Unless,” Deckard frowned, “they snuck in like some other Wauldeners we know.”
The group glanced at the Calders. Deckard considered Auden’s previous point about the signature Waulden characteristics: red hair, lean figure, pale complexion, excessive height, and sharp features. He could admit that, aside fromThom, he looked far more like the Calders than any of the rest of their troop.
Thom opened his mouth to argue, then paused. “Grandfather,” he said.
With a sigh, Deckard shrugged. “It was one of Father’s favorite stories,” he said. “No one knew Grandfather’s family. He showed up one day, seeking work. Said he’d chosen to make a better life for himself away from the border. He even had a strange accent.”
Reluctantly, Thom nodded. “Mother got her red hair from him.”
Deckard sighed. “And she passed it down to me.”
Their grandfather’s story replayed through his memories. Marc Reid, a twenty-something traveler, arrived in Stocburrough with nothing but the clothes on his back and a handful of coins in his pocket. He sought trade as a day laborer around the farms in exchange for meals and a place to sleep, impressing the village with his efficient work and steady character. Soon, he met the Duncaan family and fell in love with their only daughter, Lizelle. They married shortly after and began a family of their own. Their youngest, Serah, grew to wed Mathes Deckard, and thus Jonn, Thom, and their sister, Meria, were born.
Throughout his entire childhood, Deckard remembered their father telling the story of the red-haired stranger who won the whole village’s loyalty. But now, he wondered if they knew who their grandfather had been at all. Marc was a common name; Reid, an even more common surname in Ephria. Was it possible that he’d fabricated his entire identity to hide his Waulden heritage?
“It doesn’t prove anything,” Deckard said, unwilling to concede. “He said he was from the border. It could have been the Ephrian side.”
“Does it matter?” Ilain asked. “Whether it was your grandfather orhisgrandfather, you’re a Mage. Which means someone in your ancestry was Waulden.”
“Which means...” Rafferty raised his brows, turning to Thom.
Lips parting, Thom sucked in a sharp breath. “I have Waulden blood too.”
Ilain folded her hands demurely on her lap. “Your most desirable quality.”
“So,” Ethenn said, “Thom could be a Mage too?”
“Technically,” Rafferty said, “he’s more Ephrian than he is Waulden. So he could be either, right? Mage or Warrior. Or...both?”
“Either or neither,” Auden said. “Never both.”
“Ah, well.” Rafferty shrugged, then sent another Relic flying across the camp toward Thom. “Heads up, Thommy-boy.”
Deckard watched nervously. The determination of Thom’s magical status would impact more than their chances at success. Their entire lives, Thom had been desperate to prove his worth. Proving to have magic would finally validate that worth. But if it were discovered that Deckard was magical and Thom was not, it would be another barrier between them. Another chance for Thom to see himself as the lesser brother and Deckard as the golden child.
With almost frantic anticipation, Thom sprang forward to catch the Fire Relic. It landed securely in his grasp, and they all leaned forward to see...nothing. The ruby remained dull and lifeless as it had in Rafferty’s hands.
Thom’s gaze locked with Deckard’s, a flatness in their icy gray-blue depths. “Guess not,” he muttered.
Ilain sighed dramatically. “Well, your value to me just decreased exponentially.”
Thom glowered at her.
“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” she said. “I’m a precious commodity. I can’t go marrying a non-Warrior.”
“Whoever said I want to marry you?” Thom replied sourly, then tossed the Relic back to Rafferty.
