“Vexy,” Seth calls, knocking on the door.
I unlatch the larder, and Seth climbs out, then leans against the frame – still smiling.
“That was nasty. That joke backfired. I got into trouble for it and not you.”
He shakes his head.
“Killian’s funny bone gets dusted off once every few decades. This.” And he twirls a finger towards me as he speaks. “This is amusing.”
I pick up the hem of his torn shirt and wipe it down my cheek. “Then you can wear his slobber.”
He watches me, still smiling. Which is annoying, because smiles use lips, and lips remind me of how deliciously distracting kissing is.
“Bread,” he declares, perhaps hoping volume will get us both back on track, including that bulge in the front of his pants.
He ducks back into the larder for two more bottles of wine, then walks away from me, running a hand through his flour-filled hair and sending a cloud of the stuff into the air.
I take a longer moment to pull my clothes straight and savor the feelings still running through my body before they fade. When I move the three short steps to the other side of the kitchen, he’s busy measuring a fresh cup of flour.
I snag a bottle of wine, then try to pop up onto the bench to uncork it. But the damn bench moves, and I land on the floor instead.
I snort, moan, then giggle. Wow – make up my mind already.
“Why?” Seth asks, pointing down at me.
I hold the wine up, saying, “The bench is drunk.”
Damn, I love Seth’s smile. It brightens his blue eyes and pulls a kind of joy from even the darkest corners of the room.
I make myself comfortable with the cupboard as a backrest since I can’t fall any further than this.
“How come you’ve always been able to kiss me without overwhelming me with power?” I ask. Leaving out the part where Pax’s last kisses didn’t overwhelm me at all.
“I’m not as powerful as my brothers,” he says, not looking up at me as he measures and pours.
“You all seem pretty equal to me.” Except when Seth acts like a complete child. “Mostly.”
He nods. “I’m better-looking and a better fighter – but innate power like theirs was pretty rare even a few thousand years ago. They sit on the highest branches in the power tree.”
“Who’s at the top then? Pax?”
He dumps the flour into a bowl, followed by seeds, nuts, and raisins that he doesn’t even bother measuring out, then the starter and more water. “No, OriginSeeds would have sat at the top – at least five thousand years ago – if they were real.”
“OriginSeed,” I roll the word off my tongue. It’s somehow familiar, like I’ve heard it before, but I can’t place it. Except that it sounds linked to the Origin Spring. “And we’re looking for an Origin Spring – are they related?”
He holds his hand out to me as he says, “You’d have to ask Roarke, and it feels weird talking to you on the floor.”
“Join me, then?”
The shake of his head and little giggle translations to, ‘you’re crazy.’ CrazySeed is definitely possible.
So I accept his hand and the way he pops me to my feet. The spikes and peaks of his messy dark hair are covered in white, and I can’t resist tussling it, getting more flour out. He just smiles and pushes the bowl toward me.
“Mix.”
“All right, tell me about this OriginSeed,” I say, accepting the spoon and beginning to struggle with the thick dough.
“I don’t know much. Mother was obsessed with finding one back when we were young. I used to sneak into her study and read her notes from time to time, but she never explained why. Maybe she thought that one could beat Lithael, or maybe she thought that one would become Lithael’s partner and she needed to stop that from happening – maybe in the beginning she was trying to get them together. A power like that is dangerous on either side. She never explained, only that the man was important. He was named after some kind of bird, Gull or Eagle or Parrot. It was a long time ago.”
“How powerful?” It’s honestly hard for me to get my head around, not helped by the way my head’s spinning.
The hedgewitch midwife used to be the most powerful person I knew, and her gift simply eased pain. One thing. What her power was and what it could do was clean-cut, black and white – no gray area.
Nothing like Pax or Killian or Roarke or even Seth.
And now there’s an OriginSeed – something more powerful. How is that even possible?
“Not all powerful, I wouldn’t think. But who knows? It’s not like there’s any left to ask them about it, and everything in a Silvari book is either a rhyme or a list. We’re not lucky enough to have lists of Seeds. No two people are the same, even if their Seeds are the same. Just like no two trees are the same, even if they sprouted from the seeds of the same tree. Even if they look the same from a distance. Everything always grows into its own unique existence.”
“But how do you people keep losing each other? Alphas were apparently extinct, weren’t they? Or at least Pax’s power was suppressed? No one knew he existed until your mother found him.”
“Silva’s a pretty big place – easily three times your mortal Desayer realm. With monsters and magic and everything else in-between, it’s very easy for someone to hide. And if a family stays hidden for a few generations, pretending to be mere Silvari, they can force their Seeds into hibernation. It’s the only way to stop the Saber call. Some even have children before the call and then end their own lives, severing the link. Especially if they were destined to be called to the Crimson Castle. And on the other side, the Aeons are even bigger.”
“The other side?”
“Through the Veil. The Aeons.”
I rub at
