He blinks once. Then speaks.
In perfect, accented English:
“I do now.”
I freeze. “What?”
“I speak your tongue,” he says. “Thanks to the Kiss of Communion.”
“Thewhat now?”
He straightens, releasing me but not stepping back. His brow furrows, likeI’mthe unreasonable one here. “You were panicking. I needed to understand you. You needed to understandme.The spell works fastest with physical contact.”
“You—youmagicked mewith akiss?!”
“Yes.”
“That’s not okay!”
“I was in haste.”
“You were inmy face!”
He says nothing for a moment. Then: “I will admit... I did enjoy the spell a great deal.”
I open my mouth, then close it.
Then open it again.
Andthenpoint a shaky finger at him. “You—you didn’t even ask for my number first, jerk!”
“Who are you calling a jerk?” he asks, actually sounding offended.
“Youkissedme! With no warning! You burst out of atoilet portalandmouth-attackedme!”
“It was acommunication spell!”
“That’s what all the creeps say!”
He pauses.
Slowly, he nods.
“…You’re right. That was dishonorable. I should’ve asked permission.”
I blink. “Wait, what?”
He puts the spear down, kneels—kneels!—and bows his head.
“I am Kursk. Longstrider of the Red Hollow Clan. Slayer of the Bone-Taker. I swear to you, Olivia of House Wilkins, I meant no harm. I seek the abomination that escaped through your world’s Veil. The creature is here. I followed. I... was not prepared for you.”
I stare at him.
“Okay,” I say. “This isdefinitelyweirder than the first one.”
I should be screaming. Or running. Or filing a restraining order. But instead, I’m just... staring at this giant green man kneeling on the scuffed library floor like he's pledging fealty to the Queen of England.
His voice is low, but firm. Reverent, almost. “I seek the abomination that passed through the Veil. I swear to you, Olivia of House Wilkins, my fight is not with your kind.”
