Measuring her pain, why didn’t I think of that? Measuring her pain, her bubble, tracking her sleep. I need to read Eydis’ manual as soon as I can; I’m failing her. Images of the places still left blank in Eydis’ attic where I can chart and table this information and try to find the correlations, come to mind.
I let go of her face, but she doesn’t let go of my wrists, her soft fingers keeping contact as I ask, “Explain the Chaos?”
At exactly the same time as Pax asks, “Why?” and Killian asks, “When?”
“I set his pants on fire,” she says, a little too proud of herself.
I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. I’ve just been informed that the most beautiful creature I know set the most annoying brother in history’s pants on fire.
“I wish I’d been there,” I manage to choke out.
“Why?” Pax repeats.
“He stuffed me in the vat,” Kitten says, removing the tension from Pax’s shoulders and drawing just one corner of his mouth up into a smile.
I’ll admit, she’s all kinds of bad for all of us, but simultaneously all kinds of good – especially for Pax.
Killian offers a grunt that sounds a lot like praise.
“Wine,” both Kitten and Seth call out, which starts more laughter.
I return to the cellar and slide the hatch closed.
“Later,” Pax says. “Seth, we need to search further east.”
“No, Eydis’ notes say the Spring is close. We need to start looking for enchantments, seals, potions, wards, that sort of thing.”
“Then do it,” Pax orders.
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing a hand down my face in frustration. A good shower, clean clothes, big meal, few wines, and a solution – I need the lot.
And more.
Kitten leans into Seth.
“What’s in the potions?” she whispers, which is useless even in this breeze since I can hear every syllable of her gentle voice.
“One vial – one soul,” Seth whispers back.
“Oh, like the ones Lithael has trapped…” she trails off and just waves a hand towards her neck.
We’re all just watching the two of them.
“Why are you guys so mean to Seth?” she suddenly demands.
“Because he asks stupid questions,” I answer since it’s clear the other two aren’t going to bother.
“It’s only a stupid question if you’re not open to the possibilities,” she says with such a sure tone that no argument springs to mind at all.
Seth chuckles and kisses her temple. “Thank you, Vexy.”
“Seth, take your open mind and start crafting Sigil Seek Potions,” Pax says. “You technically should have topped the class.”
“After Roarke,” Seth counters.
“Roarke doesn’t count,” Pax says.
“Why doesn’t Roarke count?” Kitten interrupts.
“They stopped bothering to score him two hundred years ago,” Seth explains. “Automatic first place.”
I clear my throat and look around like I’m not even listening to them – the last thing I want to do is discuss any of the ease with which knowledge fills my world. I don’t really work harder; I just understand more. Like my power pulls and draws in at the tiny pieces of the world that weave together to form everything we know – or think we know. I walk into a room, and my power draws me toward an important book or drags my attention into an unlikely corner. Not every minute of every day, but often enough to make me seem smarter than those around me. Clearly not to hidden cellars under houses, or maybe my power’s attention is so thoroughly tuned into Kitten that it couldn’t care less about a book or a potion right now. But add that quirk to my ability to Allure time, and the homework that would take another Saber three hours I could turn out in minutes.
Plus, I like knowing things. I like books, the smell of a library, the feel of paper, the slide of ink on parchment. Killian has his weapons and I have knowledge.
Doesn’t mean I want to be the center of their conversation, though.
“Not important,” Killian mutters before I’m forced to come up with a distraction.
Seth bounces on the balls of his feet, a little too excited for a guy about to mix a few dozen potions.
He scruffs Kitten’s hair on the way past, and she just barely manages to swat him away.
Seven Paces
Killian points at the book in Roarke’s hand as I step in closer to the remaining three of my guys. Roarke holds it up, showing them the cover, then discards it with the one he carried outside earlier.
“What’s the book?” I ask.
“Another of Eydis’,” Roarke says. “Describe your pain?”
“Asking questions about a book isn’t usually a painful activity,” I tell him, a little offended that he actually thinks I could hurt myself just by talking. I’m pretty talented as far as exploiting mortal weaknesses goes, but not quite that good.
“No,” he groans. “Using Chaos. What did it feel like?”
Killian chuckles, turning to kick a nearby stone under the house as if the distraction might stop him from saying something. Which only makes me curious what exactly he was about to say.
“No, actually. No pain for the Chaos when it worked, but a kind of sharp, stabbing pain from when it didn’t work,” I say, running my fingers down over my braid and inspecting the loose strands and occasional hard-from-mud patch.
I desperately need a shower.
“I’d rather she learn your power than Seth’s,” Pax says, pointing at Roarke. “If she’s reaching for yours instinctively, then she needs to be able to do it without harm – and time would be her best advantage.”
“What do you mean, time?” I ask.
Roarke’s slow smile always draws me in, and for half a beat I just smile back at him.
“Darkness, stay with them,” Pax says, then he turns and walks off.
“What? Wait,” I call, running after him, but he’s way ahead of me.
“Easy,” Killian rumbles, grabbing the back of my shirt.
Probably a good thing that he holds me back; there’s a chance my bubble has already separated Pax and me, but at the same
