“Can I help you?” he asked, stealing the initiative before she’d had a chance to speak.
She sputtered in surprise, trying to both answer him and speak whatever line she’d had ready to go. It tripped her up so badly, that nothing but a bunch of gibberish came out of her mouth.
“Do go on,” he said, earning himself a glare that would have pinned him to the wall several hundred feet away if it had been a physical thing.
“What the heck was that, Altair?” she finally got out.
He shrugged. “That was me testing a theory. Nothing more.”
“A theory. So, like, an experiment?” she asked, hands on her hips, staring up at him incredulously.
“Yes. Precisely like that. You told me this place was designed to replicate the real world. To mimic how creatures from the Abyss act and react, based on all knowledge over hundreds of years.”
Christine nodded. “It’s a lot of work, so many spells cast atop one another, records being updated with each new encounter. It’s one of the biggest drains on our resources. But that doesn’t matter to what you just did. I saw you, Altair. I watched you.”
“Well I didn’t ask you to spy on me,” he fired back.
“What did you scream at the end there?” she asked softly, her anger fading. “Talk to me, Altair.”
He almost told her. The pull to open up, to reveal everything, was so strong. There was a part of him that wasn’t able to resist her. The longer he spent around Christine, the stronger that part grew. Altair had to do something about it, and soon. He bit down on his lip, focusing on the pain, using that to keep his mind clear. It helped, but he could still feel the mysterious tug of Christine through it.
I can’t get close to her. I can’t. She deserves to live.
“I have to go,” he said awkwardly, and went to step around her to head for the exit.
But Christine was quicker. She sidestepped into his path, putting her between him and his goal.
“Don’t do this,” he growled unhappily. “You can’t stop me. We both know that.”
“If you wanted to go,” she said quietly. “You’d already be gone. We both know that,” she added, mocking him. “You want to stay. You want to talk.”
“Of course, I want to,” he hissed, the words leaking out before he could stop himself. Altair shook his head. “But I can’t. I won’t. Not to you. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“Just tell me what’s going on,” she pleaded. “Please.”
“Let me leave,” he rumbled, looking above her head, knowing that if he looked her straight on, the feeling to confide in her would possibly grow stronger than he could resist.
“You can leave once I know whether or not I can trust you to be the Altair that I saw earlier, the team player, or if that was just an act and you’re just biding your time to do enact some crazy plan like what I just witnessed you do there.” Christine straightened, still only coming to his chin, but it was a bold act of defiance.
Altair hesitated.
“If it’s the latter, Altair, then you’re off the team,” she said quietly. “You’ll be staying at Winterspell, with the rest of the dragons. I can’t have someone on the team who puts themselves above the team.”
His jaw dropped open. “What are you talking about? I will stop the demon lord so that none of you are hurt. How is that anything but putting the team before myself?”
“Because you’re more focused on yourself than you are the team. Your own words just said so, Altair. ‘I will stop the demon lord’. You don’t care about the rest of the team, about helping them stop an enemy. You only care about doing it yourself, so that you can go out in a blaze of glory. You want to end up like Master Erlinger. Remembered for generations.”
“I do not,” he snarled. “That has nothing at all to do with my actions.”
“So, you do admit to taking them then,” she said triumphantly. “I knew it was all leaning toward you making a dumb move. Earlier with the team, that just felt too good to be true.”
She took a step toward him.
Altair stepped back. He couldn’t have her closer. For every inch the distance between them shrank, the desire to throw himself into her arms grew exponentially. He wasn’t weak, but after so long of isolating himself from everyone, it was tempting, even though he knew how devastating it would be for everyone involved.
“What’s it going to be, Altair? Team player, or self-absorbed personal play? Just tell me. I’ll go talk to Circe. She’ll pull you from the team. It’s easy.”
He shook his head. “No, she won’t. She wants to foster relations between us. Not appear to be alienating us after I went and volunteered for the mission.”
Christine shook her head. “I used to think that too, you know. The first time you did something selfish, I was considering the options with you, and I ruled out going to Circe. But I’ve thought about it some more, and realized I forgot one critical thing. Circe cares more about protecting us, than she does being close to you. If she thinks having you along is going to be a liability, she’ll stop it.”
Altair shook his head. “I doubt it.”
“Oh, trust me,” Christine said forcefully. “If she thinks that having you on the team is going to get others killed, she’ll stop it in a moment.”
His eyes went wide, and he backed away. “That’s not going to happen!” he shouted. “That’s exactly why I’m doing this, so it doesn’t happen!”
Christine stepped forward again. He stepped back, but she kept coming.
“Why are you so eager to leave, Altair? To be gone. You’re abandoning Winterspell. Earth. The dragons and your life. You’re abandoning me.”
He stopped in his tracks.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Christine
THAT LAST PART WASN’T supposed to come out. The moment it left her lips, Christine knew she’d just crossed a line
