“Yeah,” I say too quickly. “Just… bad news.”
Peggy leans in further. “And what’sthat?”
I flinch.
She’s spotted him.
Kursk stands tall, looming over the endcap, pretending to study a rack of children’s picture books like it’s deep political theory.
“Oh,” I say, scrambling for a lie. “That’s… Mr. Sigurdsson. He’s part of the rare books residency program.”
Peggy squints. “He looks like if Thor and a fire hydrant had a baby.”
“Uh huh.”
“And why is he shirtless?”
“He runs hot?”
Peggy doesn’t look convinced. “Does he talk?”
“No.”
At that exact moment, Kursk grumbles something in Old Orcish under his breath that sounds like a rockslide wrapped in a curse.
I shove Peggy toward the break room. “You should check on the printer! It’s doing that thing again.”
She gives me the side-eye. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Olivia of House Wilkins.”
I groan. “Don’tstart.”
As soon as she’s gone, I march over to Kursk and hiss, “Could youmaybenot announce your presence to every gossip monger in a ten-mile radius?”
He shrugs. “I do not understand the purpose of this woman.”
“She’s like… a chaos imp. Ignore her. If she sees weakness, she’ll eat your soul.”
Kursk looks thoughtful. “A predator, then. I respect this.”
I sigh and rub my temples. “This day is never going to end.”
He tilts his head. “Your people. They gossip about death, but do not act. Why?”
“Because they don’t know what they’re dealing with. They think it’s drugs. Or wild animals. Or freak accidents.”
“They are blind.”
I nod. “And if they stay that way, more people will die.”
He looks at me for a long beat. “Then we must make them see.”
And somehow… I know we will.
It startslike every argument between a man and a woman who care too much and know too little about each other—loud, fast, and wrapped in too much pride.
“Youwillremain here,” Kursk growls, already half-laced in his armor, the Spiritslayer spear strapped across his back like it belongs to him more than his own shadow. “This place is not safe for you. The Vorfaluka is stirring. I feel its rot in the trees.”
I slam my travel mug on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, and you know what else I feel? Useless. Sitting around whilethatthing kills people in my hometown? Not happening.”
