“You were,” I respond for him.
Bo smiles hesitantly, along with a turquoise flare of eagerness.
“Were you told to hurt anyone?”
Emerald of shock.
Charcoal gray of disgust, which twists my stomach.
“No on that,” I say, and Bo lets out a deep breath. “Were you here looking for an item?”
Daffodil yellow of hope.
“A golden apple?”
Gold of triumph.
Burnt orange of guilt.
My guess was correct, but he feels bad about it. Like he didn’t want to steal the golden apple, but felt as though he needed to.
“Were you sent here by Sev?”
Bo stumbles back a step, dropping my hands and breaking the connection.
But not before a flaring tangle of colors reached me with shadows of the emotions they represented.
Saffron of fury.
Cobalt of devastation.
Ochre of betrayal.
Cream of hopelessness.
And the searing white of fear.
I nod, keeping my composure as I remind myself that bombardment wasn’t mine.
Bo stands stiffly before me.
“I thought that might be the case. He came here for a meeting once, but wouldn’t come in the house. And I’ve heard rumors that he collects things. It would make sense that he sent someone else into danger on his behalf.”
“We … we shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t—” He coughs, eyes watering. After swallowing multiple times, he manages to say, “I want you to be safe.”
I study Bo, experiencing my own mixture of anger and frustration. But not with him.
“I’m sorry you’re still bespelled.” I wipe the powder off on my pants so Bo doesn’t have to worry about me still reading him. “And if he ever tries to make you do something you don’t want to do again, please come to me. You aren’t alone.”
“I’m not fired?” He whispers the words, as if speaking them too loudly might make me change my mind.
“No, Bo. I know what it’s like to be manipulated by someone with stronger magic. I won’t hold it against you.” I step close but keep my hands to myself. “The apple isn’t here anymore, in case he presses you.”
Then, because I realize Bo probably needs a moment to himself, I give him one more parting comment before heading inside to wash my hands. “No matter what happened in the past, I’m glad you’re here, Bo. I like having you around.”
In the corner of my eye, I swear I see the black of need.
But I must be mistaken.
