Brian McCLELLAN - The Autumn Republic

“Spies,” he said.

She couldn’t help but scoff. “Spies? Out here? It’s pitch-black!”

“Don’t look toward the fires of the camp. Even at this distance they can damage your night vision.”

She had been doing just that, wishing she had someplace warm to sleep tonight. Her teeth began to chatter and she scooted a little closer to Bo. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere. Why would a spy come up here?”

“To circle around the sentries,” Bo said. She could see the shadow of his arm as he pointed. “Hilanska’s camp is down there. And over there,” he said, pointing due south, “about seven miles away is Ket’s camp. Beyond them are the Kez. And up there” – he pointed to the northwest – “are the Wings of Adom, a mercenary company in the employ of Adro.”

“They’re keeping their distance while their employers are fighting each other?”

“Exactly,” Bo said, sounding pleased. “Now, because of this schism in the army Hilanska probably doesn’t trust his own men, so his spy won’t go through the pickets to the south but rather head north, pretending to be a courier on his way to Adopest. He’ll leave the road a couple of miles north of the camp and cut across this direction, where he can go to either the Kez, the Adran, or the mercenary camps to meet with his liaison.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

Bo chuckled. “I grew up on the streets, and then in Field Marshal Tamas’s household. I have an education in strategic deduction and guessing that most Privileged never get. Now, stop asking questions. Open your third eye.”

Most everyone with magical ability could use their third eye to look into the Else. It allowed them to see the mark that sorcery had made upon the world and to see anyone else with magical ability. It had been the first thing Bo taught her: looking beyond that which was real to see the sorcery beneath it.

She took a few shallow breaths and let her eyes fall halfway shut, focusing on the muscles around her eyeballs. The process itself wasn’t all that different from crossing one’s eyes. A wave of nausea flowed over her, nearly making her double over, but she forced herself to hold on, opening her eyes all the way to look into the Else.

The world she now saw was faint, as if she were viewing it through a thick veil. She could make out the landscape even in the darkness, but it was as if it had been drawn carelessly in a series of pastel colors, like an artist’s sketch.

She turned toward the Adran camp, and for a moment it seemed as if the number of campfires had doubled. The glow of Knacked in the Else. The whole camp seemed almost a smudge.

“I’m going to throw up,” she said.

Bo whispered in her ear, startling her. “Don’t give in to it. The nausea lessens with practice.”

“Is this how we’re going to spot the spy in the dark?”

“Yes.”

“You think the spy will be a Privileged or a Knacked?”

“Not a Privileged,” Bo said. “Likely a Knacked. Many spies are. It gives them an edge. And even if they weren’t, it wouldn’t matter.”

“How so?”

“Powder mages can’t see regular people in the Else. Neither can Knacked.”

“But Privileged can?”

“Yes. It’s very faint. If a Privileged is a bonfire and a Knacked is a lantern, then a regular person is a lightning bug. Their color in the Else will be so faint that you might think you’re imagining it.”

Holding her eyes on the Else was beginning to hurt. Her eyes felt dry and a headache had begun to form just behind her temples. “How can that possibly be of any use?”

“It takes a sharp eye,” Bo said. “And practice.”

“If this is practice, I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“I’ve always hated practicing,” Bo said, his voice warm in her ear. “But that’s how you get to be better. That’s how you become smarter and tougher than the people who will want to harm you. And when you’re a Privileged… that becomes everyone.”

Nila felt her insides shift uncomfortably. How could anyone keep this up for any length of time? The mere thought of it made her want to vomit.

“You remember how much you hated Lord Vetas?”

Nila nearly lost her grasp of the Else. She didn’t trust herself to answer.

“You remember how he made you feel so helpless?” Bo whispered. “Take all that hate and anger and ball it up and put it away. Don’t chew on it – that just makes you bitter. Put it aside and use it as a reminder of why you never want to be helpless again. Take your weakness and make it your strength. You’ll be a powerful Privileged, Nila. Stronger than anyone I’ve known. Stronger than me. But you have to work for it.”

Nila almost lost her focus again as she bit off a laugh. Powerful? Stronger than Bo? That seemed ridiculous. “How strong are you?”

“Reasonably so. I have my weaknesses, but I make up for them with cunning.”

“That doesn’t seem honest.”

“Lying and cheating are all fair game when your life is on the line. And it always is, in a royal cabal. I might have been cabal head someday. Especially after I learned a number of… secrets.”

“What kind of secrets?”

“Ancient sorcery. Like folding the Else upon itself so that other Privileged or Knacked can’t see me.”

“Who taught you that?”

There was amusement in his voice. “A very old woman. She taught me a lot of things that she probably shouldn’t have. It came back to bite her in the end.” Bo paused. “There’s something else you should know about being a Privileged.”

“Just one thing?”

“This is rather… personal.”

Nila’s heart skipped a beat. She had wondered when this would come up. “Oh?” She kept her third eye on the dark area north of the Adran camp, watching for anything that could be movement, and said a prayer of thanks that Bo couldn’t see her cheeks turning red.

“You’ll have urges.”

“What kinds of urges?” It was a stupid question. She knew exactly what he meant.

Bo went on in a purely businesslike tone. “You’re going to want to take everyone to bed. Constant contact with the Else makes a Privileged like a stag in rut. It affects both men and women, although women have a tendency to control it better.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will.”

“Do you have any water?”

“Here.” Bo put a canteen in her hands. “Drop your third eye. You don’t want to pass out.”

Nila realized that her whole body was shaking from the effort of looking into the Else. She closed her third eye and took the canteen gratefully. When she finished drinking, she turned to Bo. “Have you had many women?”

“A few.”

“I’ve heard stories about Privileged…”

“Most of them are probably true.” A pause. She could feel him watching her. “Nila, if I catch a spy tonight or the night after, I’ll have to torture him.”

She felt relief at the change of subject, but only for a moment. “Do you have to?”

“I need information.”

“You can’t just magic the truth from him?”

“I wish that were the case.”

“There is no other choice?”

“I’m not a good person. No Privileged is.”

Nila didn’t like the implication. “I’m supposed to become a Privileged.”

“You are a Privileged. Even if you’ve only just begun your training.”

“And I have to do horrid things to survive in this world?”

“You already have. And you will again.”

She remembered the sticky feeling of the blood between her fingers, and the way that assassin’s skull had melted beneath her hand as easily as warm wax. “That’s the second time in as many minutes you’ve told me what I’ll end up doing. Do you know me so well, Privileged Borbador?”