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coming of Blessed Harot? Would you be able to feel that?”

Ravi’s tone had taken on an odd, excited note that made the hairs on the back of Daks’s neck stand up. Unwilling to admit just how much the eeriness of their surroundings was getting to him, Daks opened his senses for one more sweep, just to be sure, but all was the same as it had been.

“I haven’t had much experience with Wraiths,” Daks admitted reluctantly. “In Samebar, when a mage kills a Spawn, its Wraith is captured in a crystal and taken back to Scholoveld for destruction, if it isn’t destroyed in the killing. But from everything I’ve been taught, Wraiths can’t wait long before they find a new host. I doubt there would be any just hovering about in the bogs like ghosts.”

As soon as he said the word, he wanted to take it back. Ravi finally swung around to look at him, his amber eyes wide as his hood fell back enough to expose a touch of that damnable auburn hair.

“Can you sense ghosts?”

Daks grimaced and wanted to smack himself on the forehead. He dragged his gaze away from Ravi and eyed their dreary surroundings once more, reminding himself he wasn’t a superstitious man.

“If they exist, I’ve never sensed them. Why all the spooky questions all of a sudden?” he asked, deflecting.

Ravi immediately stiffened, and Daks was filled with equal parts regret and anticipation as he waited for Ravi to snap something cutting back at him. But before he could, a familiar tingle shivered along Daks’s skin and he lurched forward, wrapping an arm across Ravi’s chest as the man let out a strangled moan and arched his back. Magic flowed over and through Daks as Horse snorted and jerked beneath.

“Push it back, Ravi. Don’t let it take over,” Daks urged as he tightened his grip on the reins and his hold on Ravi.

Ravi’s muscles strained against him only for a few moments before he went limp. Lucky for both of them, most of Ravi’s weight was supported by the saddle, and Horse wasn’t particularly skittish. Daks managed to settle him and keep them both from falling.

“Daks?” Shura called.

He glanced up to find her twisted in her saddle, looking back at him with concern.

“We’re all right.”

“Another Vision?”

A glance at Fara showed her biting her lip and staring wide-eyed, and Daks grimaced.

“It wasn’t a big one, and there aren’t any members of the Thirty-Six around, so we should be okay,” he replied grimly. “This is why we took the long way around.”

Shura remained quiet for a few beats before she asked, “Do we need to stop?”

“No. I’ve got him. Keep going.”

She pursed her lips but nodded and nudged her horse back into a walk as Daks settled Ravi’s unconscious form a little more comfortably against his chest. In another day and half, they would be at Traget, so if Ravi was going to have a Vision, now was the best time to do it, when they were halfway between large settlements. Daks just hoped it was the last until he could get him across the river.

“Drink this,” Daks said, handing over the waterskin when Ravi finally stirred.

Ravi sat up straighter in the saddle and sadly pulled out of Daks’s embrace. He didn’t meet Daks’s gaze as he took the skin and downed a large gulp from it before handing it back.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

He sat hunched in silence in front of Daks for a while as the horses plodded across the marshy ground, and Daks decided not to push. If the Vision was important, Ravi would have said so.

“How long was I out?” Ravi asked morosely.

“Not long. A few minutes at most.”

He heaved a long sigh, and Daks cringed for him. He knew a little of what it was like to have this thing inside you that you didn’t want, that made you different, forcing life choices on you you’d otherwise not have made. His situation hadn’t been exactly the same. He didn’t have to fear for his life when his gift manifested, but it turned his world upside down anyway, and with not much in the way of compensation.

If he thought Ravi would welcome it, he’d wrap an arm around him again to show him he wasn’t alone. But he doubted the gesture would be appreciated. Ravi would probably be glad to see the back of him as soon as they reached Scholoveld, if not sooner… and sentimentality was a trap at any rate.

“It was the same Vision… or lack of Vision, I had before,” Ravi huffed out finally, though Daks hadn’t asked.

“The gray wall?”

“Yes. I don’t know what’s happened, but I never thought this curse could actually get worse. Still, having the damned Visions but not being able to see anything is definitely worse, so much worse.”

“Things can always get worse.”

Ravi swung around and met his gaze with a scowl. “Not helping.”

Daks’s lips quirked as he shrugged. “They’ll get you sorted at the Scholomagi. They’ll help you figure it out.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Of course.”

Ravi’s lips twisted skeptically as he narrowed his eyes, and Daks had to fight a smile. The truth was, he had no idea what was wrong with Ravi’s Visions, and he also had no idea if the crackpots in the Seer’s tower could help him. But what was the use in wallowing in fear and indecision if they were going to the Scholomagi anyway? Besides, poking at Ravi was too entertaining to resist, and he needed something to distract both of them from their woes.

“You’ll see when we get there,” Daks continued with the airy bravado he knew would irritate Ravi the most, and Ravi harrumphed and faced forward again, allowing Daks to indulge in the smile he’d been fighting without getting punched or ordered to get off the horse and walk. The only downside was, he seemed to have killed what little conversation Ravi was willing to share, leaving him with nothing to do but stare out into the gloom again.

After they stopped

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