“What about the triangle over there?” He gestured, and she leaned in close to track his line of sight, her body brushing against his. “Oh, that’s the Arcane Warden. And next to it is its counterpart; they go together. If you follow the row of stars there, from the triangle’s left side. But I forgot the name of that one.” She grew quiet. Her face was pensive, pondering something.
“Don’t get broody,” he said, drawing her attention back. She gave him a small, almost shy smile before sitting up.
Perhaps it was the drink making him a little bold, but he gently took hold of her arm and pulled her back down beside him. “Teach me more constellators,” he insisted.
Her lips twitched. “Constellations,” she corrected.
He waved his hand dismissively. “Pretty star shapes. Teach me.”
She laughed and settled in, pointing out the patterns one by one, weaving stories in the night sky. Felix listened intently, his gaze flickering between her and the endless stars.
A while later, her voice tapered off. Felix was pleasantly drowsy. He was acutely aware of Isolde next to him, the warmth of her body, the faint pulse of her magic. He wanted to lower his arm and wrap it around her, pull her closer. What he knew heshoulddo was tell her to go back to her tent and get some sleep. Before he could muster the will to move, though, she turned her head towards him, her eyes bright and searching.
“Why didn’t you kill me that night?”
Felix froze. “What?” he managed, the question catching him completely off guard.
“At the midsummer ball,” she said softly, “when… it happened. That mage told you to kill me. Why didn’t you?” Her expression held no accusation, only curiosity.
He studied her face for a long moment before he replied. “I don’t claim to be some kind of hero, but I’m also not in the business of cutting down defencelesspeople where they stand, Isa. I’m a mercenary, not an executioner.” His exact words to her father, what felt like a lifetime ago.
If it comes to that… If there is no other way…
He pushed the memory away.
“You’ve never talked about what happened,” he said quietly. “At the ball.”
She looked up at the stars again with a small frown. “I don’t remember it clearly,” she said at last. “At first, it was just a ball, like all the others. I helped Otto with the decorations. He’s one of our stewards,” she added. “He’s amazing with flowers – can make them bloom with a touch…”
Felix stayed quiet, studying her face.
“Some other ladies and I were watching the mages’ ritual,” she continued. “I got to the front – I was desperate to see the magic up close… When they were about to pour into the wine, it was so strange; it was like I was… outside myself. The ley line glowed, and I think the mages saw it too, and they broke their spell, and then…” Her voice wavered, and she swallowed hard. “The floor shook and everything went white. It hurt, like being stabbed, but it also felt… good? It… gathered – I gathered it – until I could no longer hold it all.”
She paused, drawing a shuddering breath. “I don’t remember what happened after that. I know I fell. And I know you were there. I saw you standing in front of me, holding out your hand.” She paused again, her gaze downcast. “Six people died, because of me. I thought I would kill you, too –” Her voice was small, her eyes shining.
Felix decided against remarking that he had killed a lot more than six people, and the ones who died at the midsummer ball were probably all jerks who deserved it, anyway. Instead, he reached over and gently wiped away the single tear that rolled down her cheek. “Hey,” he said softly, “it will be alright.”
“There is something important at the Nexus.” She looked back up towards the stars. “It… needs my help, I think. When I stood on the ley line… I saw so much, Felix, but I did not understand any of it. Only that there was something very wrong. I think… I think many people like me have died there.”
“People like you?”
“Leytouched.” It was the first time he had heard her say the word.
“We will figure it out,” he said. “Whatever it is you need to do, we’ll find a way.”
“What if we can’t?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What if I don’t know what to do? How will I know at all…?” Tiny blue sparks swirled around her, glinting against the brilliance of the stars. “What if I’m travelling all this way to the Nexus, only to die there like all those others?”
The realisation of it hit him like a slap. Her wide-eyed wonder at the world – how she stopped to smell every flower and examine every pretty rock – wasn’t just curiosity. Part of her thought this journey would end with her death. And he’d agreed to play a role in that, if it came to it.
“I won’t let that happen,” he heard himself say, and he knew he meant it. He wouldn’t, not for all the gold in the world.
She gave him a watery smile. “You would say that.” The way her eyes sparkled, with the stars and her magic forming a glittering backdrop, made his heart ache. He couldn’t form the words to reply, to say he would protect her, that she didn’t have to do it alone. But even so, in that moment, a thread between them pulled taut.
Felix watched, frozen, as her pupils slowly widened, deep and dark and endless. Isolde’s breath hitched a little, and her lips parted. They looked soft and inviting. Her markings glowed, and tendrils of magic danced on her skin. She shifted ever so slightly closer to him. Barely any distance at all, but enough. Close enough. Her gaze flitted to his mouth.
Oh. Oh, no. Don’t.
His hand still lingered near her face. It would only take the smallest, most reckless movement to trace her jaw with his thumb, to tilt her head towards him just so. The air was suddenly too thick, and his next breath was shallow and shaking.
