from what seemed a far distance.
And I knew he was right. Zayvion had just done something I’d never managed to do. He’d found a way to plant a knowledge in me, a memory I knew I’d never forget. No matter what magic did to me. No matter who tried to Close me.
This was tied to my soul. His words. His love. Him.
I would never forget him. Never forget us. And never forget our love.
Zayvion gently pulled away and the awareness of my body, his body, of the air and world around me, came rushing back.
“How?” I asked, when I could find words again.
“We can make magic break its own rules for good things too,” he whispered to me. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You never will.” I rested my head against his chest and he pressed his cheek against the side of my face.
For that moment, we were safe, secure. And everything was right.
But only for that moment. We had work to do, a city to save, a war to fight.
We both let go, and stepped apart. Zayvion had the messenger bag over his shoulder, the disks wrapped carefully within it. He started toward the door, crossing the rest of the way to the inn, and so did I.
Stone wove his way in front of me and tromped into the inn ahead of us. I followed him, and then Zayvion shut the door behind us.
The inn was quiet, no diners, no movement, no light. It was dark beyond the hall and the triangle of light coming from the door that led to the staircase going down.
Stone stopped at that door, looked over his shoulder at me, his hand on the jamb.
“Yes, we’re going down to the well,” I said.
I wasn’t sure if Stone liked coming to this well, but he made a funny little chirring sound that kind of sounded like a flock of little birds.
I grinned. “You’ve gotten pretty musical all of a sudden,” I said. “Think it’s from all that magic mixed up inside you?”
Yes.
From Dad.
“Probably,” Zay said.
“Dad agrees with you.” I gave Zay an isn’t-that-interesting look, then clomped down the stairs.
Chapter Eight
I t didn’t take us long to get to the huge arched-ceiling room that looked more like a chapel than a basement below the inn.
“So, how do you want to approach this, Beckstrom?” Collins asked. He was standing at the foot of the stairs. So were Shame and Terric, though they were as far apart from each other as they could be without stepping out into the room.
The well was closed, which meant the floor looked like beautiful old marble with a gradation of white to black happening so subtly it was difficult to say where, exactly, white left off to become gray, and gray poured into ever-deepening darkness.
I could feel the well just beneath that marble surface. Feel magic lashing, pressing, digging at the stone above it. Magic trying to break free.
“If we open it, do you think it’ll explode?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out, now isn’t there?” Shame bent and pulled off his shoes. Then he tugged off his socks and stuffed them back in the toes of the shoes. “Give me a disk.”
He held his hand out to Zay.
“You’ll have to use Blood magic,” Zay said, not moving.
“I know, Jones. I’ve opened the well before. Live here, remember? Give over.”
Zay still wasn’t moving. “Terric?”
“Fuckssake,” Shame groaned.
“Shame can open it,” Terric said.
“Do
not
need your permission,” Shame grumbled.
Terric continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “You or Collins can purify the well with a disk and the magic in Stone.”
Stone warbled at the sound of his name.
“I’ll close the well,” Terric said. “I don’t know which of us will still be standing to cast the Tangle, Rebound, and Refresh combination, but whoever is, will handle that.”
Zay weighed those options for a split second. I had the sudden feeling that he and Terric had worked through a lot of situations with pretty much this same approach. Making fast, hard decisions, and largely ignoring Shame’s impulses. He trusted Terric. Trusted his
And I knew he was right. Zayvion had just done something I’d never managed to do. He’d found a way to plant a knowledge in me, a memory I knew I’d never forget. No matter what magic did to me. No matter who tried to Close me.
This was tied to my soul. His words. His love. Him.
I would never forget him. Never forget us. And never forget our love.
Zayvion gently pulled away and the awareness of my body, his body, of the air and world around me, came rushing back.
“How?” I asked, when I could find words again.
“We can make magic break its own rules for good things too,” he whispered to me. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You never will.” I rested my head against his chest and he pressed his cheek against the side of my face.
For that moment, we were safe, secure. And everything was right.
But only for that moment. We had work to do, a city to save, a war to fight.
We both let go, and stepped apart. Zayvion had the messenger bag over his shoulder, the disks wrapped carefully within it. He started toward the door, crossing the rest of the way to the inn, and so did I.
Stone wove his way in front of me and tromped into the inn ahead of us. I followed him, and then Zayvion shut the door behind us.
The inn was quiet, no diners, no movement, no light. It was dark beyond the hall and the triangle of light coming from the door that led to the staircase going down.
Stone stopped at that door, looked over his shoulder at me, his hand on the jamb.
“Yes, we’re going down to the well,” I said.
I wasn’t sure if Stone liked coming to this well, but he made a funny little chirring sound that kind of sounded like a flock of little birds.
I grinned. “You’ve gotten pretty musical all of a sudden,” I said. “Think it’s from all that magic mixed up inside you?”
Yes.
From Dad.
“Probably,” Zay said.
“Dad agrees with you.” I gave Zay an isn’t-that-interesting look, then clomped down the stairs.
Chapter Eight
I t didn’t take us long to get to the huge arched-ceiling room that looked more like a chapel than a basement below the inn.
“So, how do you want to approach this, Beckstrom?” Collins asked. He was standing at the foot of the stairs. So were Shame and Terric, though they were as far apart from each other as they could be without stepping out into the room.
The well was closed, which meant the floor looked like beautiful old marble with a gradation of white to black happening so subtly it was difficult to say where, exactly, white left off to become gray, and gray poured into ever-deepening darkness.
I could feel the well just beneath that marble surface. Feel magic lashing, pressing, digging at the stone above it. Magic trying to break free.
“If we open it, do you think it’ll explode?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out, now isn’t there?” Shame bent and pulled off his shoes. Then he tugged off his socks and stuffed them back in the toes of the shoes. “Give me a disk.”
He held his hand out to Zay.
“You’ll have to use Blood magic,” Zay said, not moving.
“I know, Jones. I’ve opened the well before. Live here, remember? Give over.”
Zay still wasn’t moving. “Terric?”
“Fuckssake,” Shame groaned.
“Shame can open it,” Terric said.
“Do
not
need your permission,” Shame grumbled.
Terric continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “You or Collins can purify the well with a disk and the magic in Stone.”
Stone warbled at the sound of his name.
“I’ll close the well,” Terric said. “I don’t know which of us will still be standing to cast the Tangle, Rebound, and Refresh combination, but whoever is, will handle that.”
Zay weighed those options for a split second. I had the sudden feeling that he and Terric had worked through a lot of situations with pretty much this same approach. Making fast, hard decisions, and largely ignoring Shame’s impulses. He trusted Terric. Trusted his
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