He stepped back, releasing me.
“Tomorrow.”
Fog it all to hels.
He turned to his books, raised a hand, and a slim journal slid out of its own accord.
“You do that with aKinestorum?”I asked.
“I do.” He opened the journal and flipped the pages.
“Did you teach that to Smoke?”
“I did not,” he said. “It was one of the spells he could cast before he joined the crew. Most likely saved Dev’s life. And his own, in fact.”
He tried to jump but failed miserably, Smoke had said that day on the beach.I had to catch him in a flawlessKinestorum…
He passed me the open journal. Its pages were filled with hand-written rune lines, complex patterns, and scribbled hand positions. Sketches of fingers and thumbs, palms and wrists and arms in a simple yet effective attempt at illustration.
“This is a breakdown of the incants and processes needed to become a mirrormage,” he said. “Use thecy fwthilu.”
“You wrote this?”
“It is one of my journals, yes.”
I grinned.
“I like your drawings.”
He lowered his eyes and smiled. Suns, was that a blush?
“I am not as talented as you in that regard.”
“Clearly,” I said. “But they do the job.”
“High praise,” he said. “I have seen your work.”
I closed the journal and clutched it against my chest, steadying my heart before I glanced up at him again.
“I haven’t drawn you yet.”
His smile froze.
“Just a simple pen-and-ink sketch,” I pressed. “Really quick. I promise.”
He looked away, at the floor, at his boots, anywhere but my eager face.
“May I? Please?”
“I would not make an agreeable subject.”
“That’s the challenge,” I said. “I like a challenge.”
He stepped back and swallowed, composing himself in a heartbeat.
“You should go,” he said. “Devanhan is on first Dog tonight and will be back soon.”
Fog Devanhan Fahr.
