“What does this tell us?” I ask.
He opens his notebook and leafs through a few pages very quickly, his gaze darting over his records or whatever he writes in there.
I cross my arms and tap my foot on the floorboards. “What are you looking for?”
“I was going to put one of the khymeia stones on the other side of the scale to take a peek at their weights, but I worry the scale will serve as a conduit and perhaps explode my lovely room here,” Argos says.
“Your body is a conduit.”
He turns and wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Thanks.”
“It wasn’t a compliment, you dolt.”
He just laughs quietly and then lifts his notebook, pointing to a page. His handwriting is painfully neat. Numbers, letters, arrows, and circles cover the page.
“What in the world am I looking at here?” I ask.
“It likely weighs as much as the khymeia.”
“So maybe you’re right about the mirror being partially made with the same stuff as the stones.”
He nods. “Aye. Let’s do a scratch test.”
“Let’s do a magic test.” With a hip, I bump him away from the bed and face the mirror.
Wand out, I imagine a revelation spell.
His eyes widen. “Aren’t you worried about it exploding?”
“Yes. But I’ll only let a wee fraction of my power out, and I’ll use caution.”
Magic crackles from my forehead, down my dominant arm, into my palm, and out through my wand. Blue and purple sparks dance across the space above Argos’s bed, then pour down onto the mirror.
“What will you learn from this?”
I would be annoyed by his question if he didn’t sound so genuinely curious.
“Power has a signature of sorts so it’s possible I’ll find out the mirror’s origin, its maker. I can also measure its currents to see if its power is affected by mine and if that reaction is constant or varying and if so how wildly.”
He looks positively giddy.
I slide a glance his way. “Does data get you off?”
A laugh punches from his lips. “It does. That and the magical female in front of me.”
“Simmer down, Minotaur. We have work to do. Also, in your wildest dreams, you’ll never have a witch in your bed.”
“I mean, you’re already standing right next to it.” His smirk is strangle-worthy. “That has to count for something.”
I can imagine Argos lying in this bed with his powerful thighs spread and his—I shut that thought down. “Please shut your gob. I’m working.”
“As you wish.” The twinkle in his eye has me wondering if he somehow knows what I was imagining.
The magic snaps and flings itself back at me in a stream of bright red flashes. I duck and the power bangs into the far wall, knocking an unlit candle off Argos’s desk.
Well, this is not what I expected.
Chapter 12
