Page 82 of Marked

I shook my head. “She took me right out—knocked my legs from under me. I laid on my back with Nala standing over me, thinking about what a big idiot I was for wandering into the Danu Forest and how I was most likely going to be eaten by a wolf.”

Ace leaned forward, beer forgotten. “And?”

“And after our powers merged and my magic unlocked, Nala licked me clean across the face. She had terrible breath.” I paused, ruminating over the comment. “She still has terrible breath.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips. “She really does.”

We sat in companionable silence, drinking the horrible ale.

“Have you ever returned to the clearing?” Ace asked.

“No.”

“Why not?” Ace asked.

“Can’t find it.”

Ace frowned. “I don’t believe that. You have always had a great sense of direction.”

I shrugged and tried to shake off the sting in his words. I had tried to find the clearing more than once—for Paul’s sake—but I’d never succeeded. “It’s the truth. I think the clearing shows itself when a familiar is ready to bond to you. We’re immortal, so it makes sense that not all of us find our familiars right away. Aside from desperate hunters, I find a lot of galeons wandering the forest trying to find the clearing. Some I find after they’ve starved to death or met a predator. Some I find before and those ones always demand I tell them the location. When I tell them I can’t, they call me a liar.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he said.

“It’s okay.” I took another sip of ale. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why don’t you tell me something about yourself now that I’ve shared my magical moment with Nala.”

He grimaced and looked away. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you might have a few things to share that would interest me.”

“Like what?”

“Like what made you decide to be a hunter? Or maybe start with when you discovered you had phaaning magic and what you can do with your power.” I had so many other questions I wanted to ask. When had he lived in the city? If it was before he lived in Perga, why hadn’t we cross paths as children? I was also from the city after all. Or is this where he’d gone after he left us? But if this is where he’d been all this time, why hadn’t we crossed paths in Wast more recently? It’s not like I hadn’t been to the city since he left Perga. And why did he leave without saying anything? Sure, he didn’t owe me a thing, but why hadn’t he said goodbye to Paul? They had been best friends, inseparable.

Something dark flashed across Ace’s gaze. He pressed his lips together, and he sank into his seat.

Maybe I should’ve started with a lighter question, like his middle name, or whether he preferred cats or dogs, instead of asking why he’d decided to become a hunter. Though I knew the answer to both those questions—he didn’t have a middle name and dogs, always dogs.

“My sister,” he said, finally breaking the silence between us.

His sister?

When did he have a sister? He’d been an orphan like us—one of the reasons we’d gravitated together. Why had he never mentioned a sister until now? Where had she been all this time?

I waited, dying to blurt out all the questions rampaging in my mind, but something about his expression told me this wasn’t a happy story. I had to be patient.

Not my best trait, but Ace needed to tell the story in his own time.

He sighed and took a long drink of beer, finishing off the rest of the pint before placing it on the table.

Instinctively, I reached forward, grabbed the pitcher, and refilled his glass.

“My sister was killed in a forest not unlike your own.”

I sat up in the booth. “When?”