Maria Snyder - Scent of Magic

‘Filled with Snyder’s trademark sarcastic humour, fast-paced action and creepy villainy, Touch of Power is a spellbinding romantic adventure that will leave readers salivating for the next book in the series.’ —USA TODAY on Touch of Power

‘The descriptions are vivid and draw you into the rugged journey across the mountains. You’ll want to follow their voyage into the next book.’

—RT Book Reviews on Touch of Power

‘This is one of those rare books that will keep readers dreaming long after they’ve read it.’

—Publishers Weekly, starred review , on Poison Study

‘Snyder delivers another excellent adventure.’

—Publishers Weekly on Fire Study

‘A compelling new fantasy series.’

—SFX magazine on Sea Glass

Also by New York Times bestselling author

Maria V. Snyder

from

MIRA BOOKS

Study Series

POISON STUDY

MAGIC STUDY

FIRE STUDY

Glass Series

STORM GLASS

SEA GLASS

SPY GLASS

Healer series

TOUCH OF POWER

SCENT OF MAGIC

from

MIRA INK

Inside Series

INSIDE OUT

OUTSIDE IN

www.mirabooks.co.uk

For Mom.

You started me on this path long ago by reading me books every

night, by taking me to movies and to the theater.

Thanks for always supporting my dreams.

I may be a gypsy, Mom, but it’s all your fault!

For my last book, my acknowledgements spanned two pages. I never want to take my support network for granted because without them, these books would not get written. But this time, I’m going to make it short and sweet. Well, I’m going to try.

As always, I need to thank my editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey, agent, Robert Mecoy, my husband, my daughter and son for their feedback and comments on this book. They spot the holes in logic, the dumb mistakes and, in the case of my daughter and son, yell at me when I kill off favorite characters.

The legions of people at Harlequin who are involved in my books are too many to list individually. They are from every department, from sales to digital to art, and are all over the world. I appreciate all their efforts on the behalf of me and my books. It is always a great pleasure and honor to work with all of you. Thank you so much!

A special thank you to Gabra Zackman, the phenomenally talented actress who reads my audiobooks. You rock! May you never get a sore throat … Ever!

Thanks to Becky Greenly and Amy Snyder for the technical support, and my daughter and son for the inspiration, laughs and support.

My husband, Rodney, gets his own paragraph or else he’ll pout. Just kidding. Without him, I wouldn’t be a writer. I’d still be a miserable environmental meteorologist, working in a cubicle. Now I work in a beautiful office that he built just for me. Thanks, dear!

“I’m dead,” I said to Kerrick.

He kept his flat expression, and I knew I’d get more cooperation from the cave’s stone walls. Too bad for him that I didn’t need his approval. But it would be nice if we worked out an agreement at least.

“No one knows I survived. It’s the perfect opportunity for me to go undercover, and—”

“No. It’s not safe,” he said.

“Why not? No one will be looking for me. I could slip in—”

“What about Danny and Zila? They’re going to need you to teach them how to be healers.” Kerrick added another branch to our small fire.

We had stopped to rest in a narrow cave. Kerrick and I’d been traveling at night and sleeping during the day to keep a low profile since we still remained in Tohon Sogra’s realm. We were close to what had been the Realm of Vyg’s western border. After the plague had killed two-thirds of our population nearly six years ago, many of the Fifteen Realms resembled broken toys, with tiny pieces of their populations scattered far and wide.

Unfortunately Tohon had decided to sweep up those pieces to form one realm, or rather one kingdom. A good idea until you realized Tohon, the powerful life magician, was also a deluded megalomaniac whose army included a battalion of dead soldiers. Yes, dead. Tohon had discovered how to reanimate the dead.

“Danny and Zila don’t need me yet. They’re too young,” I said. “Danny probably won’t develop healing powers until he’s closer to fifteen, which won’t be for another year or two. Zila has six or seven more years.”

“Still, it makes the most sense to rendezvous with Ryne in Ivdel as planned. We’ll need to gather his men and then join forces with Estrid so we can stop Tohon’s army from advancing into Pomyt.”

“For you,” I agreed. “Not me.” Before he could argue, I added, “Besides, I gave my word to Estrid—”

“Which was voided when you died , Avry.” He sat next to me and pulled me in close, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

I leaned against him, breathing in his scent of spring sunshine and clean earth. Every time we talked about my death, he’d sought my touch as if he still couldn’t believe I’d survived. Considering the plague had a hundred-percent fatality rate and it had indeed killed me a week ago, his actions were understandable.

However, a giant Peace Lily had brought me back to life. The ramifications of that action were … huge. Which was why I needed to figure out exactly what happened and what it meant for the rest of the Fifteen Realms. Or what was left of them.

I dropped the topic. For now. Kerrick and I had just admitted our feelings for each other. We had seven more days until we reached Peti, and I didn’t want to spend that time arguing with him. So much better to do … other, more intimate activities while we rested.

We approached the outer edge of Peti near dawn. Stopping in a thick copse of trees, Kerrick reached out with his forest magic to search for ambushers, marauders or mercs. His magic was a gift from the forest, and through that connection, he sensed other people. Or rather, he felt the irritations and annoyances that the forest considered intruders to its home.

When I held Kerrick’s hand, I also connected and experienced the unique bond he shared with the forest. I wondered if my eye color changed from sea-green to a darker green when his magic zipped through my body. Kerrick’s eye color changed to match the forest. Since it was the middle of spring, the surrounding greenery was thick and lush, an emerald carpet.

When I had first met him, his eyes were russet with flecks of gold, orange and maroon. The warm colors belied his personality at the time. He had been as cold and distant as the snow-capped peaks of the Nine Mountains.