I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such fun.
When I woke again, it was to an empty bed. Pulling on my clothes, I peeked out of the bedroom. The tower had that feeling that empty houses had, I knew that Kael had gone out. Now that I thought about it, I remembered him saying something about getting more firewood, but I had been half asleep and had only been able to mumble in reply. He’d taken a lot out of me, but it had been worth it, I thought with a grin.
Padding quietly down the cold stone stairs to the kitchen, I tugged my shawl tighter around my shoulders. The tower was drafty in the mornings, and though the fire in the hearth still smoldered from the night before, it did little to warm the chill that settled into the stones. My bare feet made soft taps on the wooden floor as I crossed to the kettle, setting it over the embers to heat some water.
While I waited, I leaned against the kitchen counter, staring into the fire as my thoughts churned.
The mage.
The thought of him sent a fresh wave of unease through me. My hand trembled slightly as I poured the hot water over a tea bag, steam curling up in the chilly air. Wrapping my hands around the warm mug, I took a slow sip and moved to sit by the fire. Its glow was soothing, but it couldn’t erase the weight in my chest.
My gaze fell on the book sitting on the side table. Its cracked leather cover gleamed faintly in the firelight, and my stomach churned. The book that had started it all. My smile faded as I stared at it, the reminder of the mage’s promise tightening my throat.
The next full moon was tomorrow.
A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature ran down my spine. I had promised the mage I would deliver his notes, but at the time, I didn’t know the full extent of what he’d done. Of who he truly was. Now I knew better.
I knew what he had done to Kael.
My hands clenched around the mug, the ceramic growing warmer against my palms. The thought of that monster—Rindais—daring to ask for his notes back—after all he’d done! It made bile rise in my throat. I wanted nothing to do with him. He had twisted lives, destroyed them. Kael’s scars were as much emotional as physical, and they all led back to that man. The idea of helping him in any way turned my stomach.
But I had promised.
And if I didn’t deliver the book, he would come back. Worse, he would send someone for the book. Kael didn’t know about my meeting with the mage. I had kept it a secret back when I thought I was doing something clever, securing a bargain. But now I realized how close I had come to betraying Kael in my ignorance.
He could never know. I would never let him find out how narrowly I’d escaped making a grave mistake. How close I had come to betraying him. He had saved me from Voren, from despair, from the loneliness that had gripped me my entire life.
It was up to me to save him from that damned mage.
I drained the last of my tea, though it had gone cold, and stood. My mind was made up. There was only one way to ensure that Rindais stayed out of our lives for good. I had to give him his book.
Crossing to the hearth, I grabbed a burning log with the iron tongs and carried it carefully up the stairs. My heart raced as I ascended, the weight of what I was about to do pressing heavily on me. The bedroom I shared with Kael was cozy and welcoming, but the other bedroom—the one I now knew must have belonged to the mage—felt oppressive, its air heavy with lingering traces of old magic.
I pushed open the door, the hinges creaking softly. The room was stark compared to the rest of the tower. The mage had left little behind save for the furniture and that damned fireplace. The gem embedded in its back glinted faintly in the dim light, mocking me.
Now that I knew what to look for, I could see that this room was bigger and fancier than the other. The magical fireplace must have been how the mage made regular reports to the King without leaving the safety of the tower. Kael must have avoided the bedroom on instinct, preferring to take the other one.
Swallowing down my nerves, I stuffed the burning log into the fireplace. The dry wood within caught quickly, flames licking upward. But the fire wasn’t enough on its own. With a deep breath, I let my magic flow into the hearth, urging the flames higher. The crackling warmth spread through the room, and thegem began to glow faintly, responding to the presence of both fire and magic.
A moment later, a single eye appeared in the small fire, startling me despite my preparation. It was as if Rindais was peering through a keyhole, his gaze sharp and invasive. I crouched down to hiss into the flames.
“Send your man. I have your book.”
Rindais’s voice came through, smooth and unbothered. “Excellent.” He paused. “And Kael?”
“He left in the middle of the night,” My voice was steady, but inside, my heart thundered as I lied. “I don’t know where.”
I didn’t stay to hear more. The sight of his disembodied eye made my skin crawl, and I had no desire to hear whatever vile thing he might say next. Grabbing the iron poker, I stabbed it into the fire, breaking apart the burning logs and scattering the flames. The fire sputtered and died, the gem’s glow fading with it.
I fled the room, feeling dirty and wrong. My heart pounded as I descended the stairs back to the kitchen, the cool air biting against my overheated skin. There, I sat heavily at the table, the book still in its place on the side table, as if mocking me for my cowardice.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to pick up my cold tea and sip it. The taste was bitter and metallic, but I needed something to calm my frayed nerves. My hands shook slightly as I cradled the mug, my thoughts a whirlwind of worry and doubt.
What if Kael found out? What if Rindais sent someone who wasn’t as easy to deal with? What if this didn’t end things like I hoped?
Almost on cue, the door opened, and Kael stepped inside. His arms were full of firewood, and the cold clung to him, his darkhair dusted with snowflakes. He kicked the door shut behind him, his movements smooth and sure, and when his eyes landed on me, they lit up with warmth.
“Seranni,” he said, his voice full of affection. That single word, spoken in his deep, steady tone, made my heart ache.
