CHAPTER SIX
Sfetnic led us down the path and around countless markers for those whom the city had rejected, but circumstances had forced it to hide within its earthen bosom. The air smelled of damp leaves, molding vines, and a touch of something that made me shiver.
Luca, who walked ahead of me, gave my hand a squeeze. “It’s the permiente.”
I blinked at him. “The what?”
“The unsettling air of entrapment magic,” he explained as we passed a grave marker. The headstone itself wasn’t interesting, but the iron bars strapped over the top of the weathered mound were. “Entrapment magic keeps the bodies within the ground, and its influence, or at least a scent of it, often spills over to those sensitive to magic.”
I lifted both eyebrows. “So does that mean I’m sensitive to it?”
He turne
