A Hand Weaving Chaos (Book 2 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

"Comfortable?" Clarine asked Jill for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"Yes, thanks. I said I'm fine. You don't have to keep tucking me in."

Which Clarine was doing yet again—fluffing the comforter and smoothing the bed sheets. With a sigh, Clarine caught herself and stood up. "I'm hovering. I know that. But—"

"But Geniece gave you instructions to hover. I'll be fine and I know you have things to do other than play nursemaid to me. If we're supposed to leave tonight, I'm sure you have a million things to organize. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"That's just it, my lady. If you're not ready, we're not going anywhere. It's my responsibility to make sure you're looked after," Clarine answered truthfully.

Jill felt the tension press in on her yet again. Her smile faded. She looked up and met Clarine's eyes, feeling weary as the woman's expectations crowded her.

"I'll be ready Clarine," she answered forcefully. Authoritatively. Around her, threads flickered an intermittent red and danced with power. "I want you to go. Now."

To her surprise, she saw the threads bob and weave as if responding giddily to the sound of her voice. She'd warded herself earlier, but the magic seemed unreceptive and unconcerned by the wards. Instead, threads snapped to attention at her words and trailed from herself to Clarine. As they touched Clarine, it seemed something malleable moved behind the woman's eyes. The protests died on her lips and a wave of acceptance washed over her. "Yes, of course. I'll let you rest. Come join us when you're feeling up to it."

With that, the maid jumped up, bowed hastily, and nearly launched herself headfirst from the bedroom.

Jill sighed then groaned in disgust—not with Clarine, but with herself. She'd suspected all along that she might possess the ability, but hadn't really been sure... At least, not until that second. Shey'na'turi. Magic of the will. The ability to make people do or believe whatever she wanted. She hadn't had the ability before, not completely at any rate. Now, after that last episode with Arianie, she did. Arianie had either given her the power or torn away whatever barrier kept her from it. The cause was irrelevant. All that mattered was the magic behaved differently for her now. And after watching Clarine march from the room and close the door soundly behind her, Jill feared what that difference might mean.

I'm a monster. People need to be protected from me, not the other way round. I'm becoming exactly what Tamas is. Except... Except for that spark of the divine buried within her. But then, didn't Tamas also have it to some extent? Hadn't he brought a portion of godhood from his own world? It existed as a rotten, shadow self, but presumably, it could be divine in its own way. Was there a difference? She hoped so.

So when had this new magic manifested itself? After Brexten had picked her up off the floor, he'd brought her back to Callista's room, put her in the bed, and told her to stay there for the remainder of the day. No questions, no explanations. Simply that she rest. That had been over an hour ago, she guessed. In the span of that hour, she became more powerful than ever.

Jill sat up, the heavy comforter pooling in her lap. With the threads still in view, she called on her wards. Presumable she would need to modify them if she wanted to keep the new Shey'na'turi strand of magic at bay. The last thing I need is to tell someone to take a flying leap and then watch them actually do it.

A knock sounded on the door.

"Clarine, please go away. I've had enough coddling today and—"