Spirit Binder by Meghan Ciana Doidge Read Free Book Online Page A

so-called ‘tracking thing’ emanated. If their earlier conversation and the general run of their thoughts hadn’t alerted her, this would have.
    They were staring at her, mouths agape, like children seeing the stars or chocolate pudding for the first time.
    “That’s her?” the one without the scar, Sammy — his thoughts named him — asked in a superfluous whisper.
    The traitor, who didn’t project his every thought as loudly, didn’t respond. She wondered at his mark. Did he get it raising arms against the Worship of Spirit? Or, inciting distrust? Or just for stealing food for his starving family? He wasn’t in prison, so his crime hadn’t been considered extreme. Still, it bothered her, to mark a man thus.  
    “She’s pretty, kind of like she glows, just a little bit, all over,“ Sammy mused.
    “She don’t glow!” the traitor snapped, as he tucked the tracking stone into one pocket and pulled a knife free from his belt with the same hand.
    She looked closer at Sammy, thinking he must have a bit of magic, or at least a connection to his spirit enough to recognize, at least visually, her ‘glow’. Maybe Lackings weren’t completely bereft of magic. Maybe the mind mages that identified them as such during their Rites of Passage — and labeled them for life — weren’t sensitive enough.
    How hard would it be to live in this world without magic? Oh, there was work, family, and comfort in the Worship of Spirit, but the opportunities wouldn’t be the same —  
    “So we’re supposed to just kill her?”
    “Dead or alive. We just have to deliver proof.”
    “Maybe we could pick the alive option? ‘Cause I think she might stop glowing if we —”
    “She ain’t glowing. I told you.”
    “Okay, but —”
    “No. We kill her quick and get it over with. We keep her alive, then we got to deal with people trying to rescue her. Kill her and then everything gets better for us, for the world. You know what the Preacher says. You know why we took the assignment. Get yer knife.”
    Sammy, rather reluctantly, pulled out his knife. The traitor stepped forward, only to have his progress halted by his friend.
    “But why is she just standing there, watching us? Can’t she understand what we’re saying? Isn’t she supposed to be super powerful? She hasn’t done any tricks yet.”
    “She’s glowing, ain’t she?”
    “But you said —”
    “Never mind. She’s wounded, hurt, maybe she don’t have access to her powers, whatever it is, we got a job to do.”
    Wounded, he said. Like he’d been told, because she certainly didn’t look wounded. Which means that the castle, for all its mighty defenses, had a leak. A human leak, because magic shouldn’t be able to penetrate. In fact, how did anyone know she had a habit — ten years ago — of wandering though the forest? These men had been camping nearby, just waiting for her to leave the wards and for their tracking device to light up. And now they were going to kill her. Try, at least.
    “Who is the Preacher?” she asked, not expecting a verbal answer, but hoping their thoughts would betray their leader. They were surprised by the question or perhaps by her speaking at all. She was surprised to discover they had mental blocks that obscured those particular thoughts. Someone had impeded them from revealing information about this Preacher. Not only was it a technique she didn’t recognize, but she had no idea it was even possible to selectively alter another’s brain. Perhaps her mother had not been completely forthcoming in her mind mage training.
    “That ain’t none of your business.”
    “Yeah, you’re just a troublemaker. Your death will fix it all.” Despite his words, Sammy seemed a little unsure about his doctrine.
    “Ah, yes. I’d heard that some interpret the prophecy that way … that my death will restore balance, that if I am the Manifestation of Spirit, then my death will destroy all the active magic on earth. Seems a