Reeve shrugged. “Dawn’s out, brawn’s out.”
For a moment, Celeste thought she could not have possibly heard right, and then she was broken of her near petrification by a burst of laughter.
He rubbed at the back of his neck and grinned uncomfortably, and she was sure he meant to look embarrassed, but the swell of his bicep as it flexed made the laughter cut itself right out of her throat. And then the carrot was snatched from her hand, and she recoiled as the horse trotted off, munching happily.
“That’s just something my brothers say…” Reeve seemed to notice none of her awkwardness, too engrossed in his own. “I see you got your delivery. I was going to bring it inside for you when I was finished out here. What is it?”
Celeste worked at the knot in the silk, further relieved to have another distraction, eyes darting up only once to see Reeve retrieving his tunic and pulling it on, which was a relief if an unfair one. When the colorful material was removed, there was a book in her hands calledAncient Arcane Anomaliesand a place inside marked with a bit of parchment covered in Geezer’s slanted scribbles.
“Dearest Midnight and the Holy Man—oh, my, we sound like a bardic group,” Celeste chuckled as she read aloud, “I’ve found the research on sentient sieves right in between the pages about sibyls and skeletons comma army of. Did you know a skinless undead horde is superior to a fleshy one as they’ve got no organs to be impaled, and—crickets, it sure goes on like that for a while.” Celeste flipped the parchment over. “Okay, here:note the part about feasting and fasting and how sieves consume arcana. There is more research to be done, but I’ve been inspired and must make the trek to my tertiary library, so I will be indisposed for a few days. Talk when I’ve reemerged, if I can remember the path. Geezer, S.D.Well, let’s hope he leaves a trail of breadcrumbs to find his way back.”
“Breadcrumbs?” Reeve climbed the steps to stand beside her on the portico. “Won’t they be eaten up? Or attract ants?”
“No, I mean—” Celeste’s eyes narrowed on him, but she stifled her grin when she saw he was being earnest. “Are you familiar with the story of Alphonse and Alise and the Everdarque?”
“No. Is it a tale of great bravery and…baking?”
“Something like that.” She finally grinned then. “It’s only a fairytale, though, and you’re right—the breadcrumbs don’t even last. Hopefully Geezer draws himself a good map instead. Oh, look, there’s a postscript:I don’t know where those initials came from, but it only took me twenty-two minutes this morning to find my glasses instead of thirty-eight, so perhaps it’s all a sign of remembering. Huh, I didn’t even know he had glasses.” The parchment with Geezer’s note marked the place he had referred to, an entry about sieves that went on for a few pages. “Feasting and fasting,” she murmured to herself, running a finger along the lines.
“There,” said Reeve, hovering at her shoulder to look down at the book. He pointed to the spot, and Celeste became all too aware of his warm presence so close in the chilly morning air.
She read on, “If a sieve is exposed to too much arcana in a short time, it will require recuperation. If it is not kept in a fixed location, it will retire to a nest, somewhere dark, quiet, and undisturbed by time. This recuperation may last only a few days but can go on as long as a full moon cycle. Sieve nests are notoriously difficult to find and extraordinarily dangerous to disturb, but will be abandoned when the sieve again hungers for arcana.”
“If this is true, then maybe we won’t hear from this entity for some time.” Reeve’s voice was low, but he was even closer, bent slightly to read along beside her.
Celeste nibbled on her lip. “And if we do hear from him, that means Syphon is probably something else. Which reminds me, you told Geezer you saw a sieve? Did you mean the fire in the forge?” She looked over her shoulder, and his face was just beside hers. Gods, it was such a pretty face.
He nodded, brow furrowed as he scanned the page in her hands. “It wasn’t normal fire, it was like a living thing. His picture and explanation—it just made sense.”
When Celeste had traced the sigils in the hearth and pumped noxscura into them, she had felt something in the stones crack just before the fire flared up. “I wonder if it was trapped inside, and I let it out just to get eaten.” She groaned. “That’s becoming a bad habit.”
“Should we look for this nest? Attack when it’s vulnerable?”
“This says they’re dangerous, and I wouldn’t want to risk another explosion in town. Maybe we should wait to ask Geezer about that.”
“Fair. We are lucky no one else was injured at the smithy. What will we do in the meantime?”
For a moment she feared he would propose they battle, and she stiffened, but when he turned to look into her eyes, he was just waiting expectantly, as if ready to be put to task like an eager herding dog.
Well, why not?
Of course, the first task that came to mind made her blush, and the second only deepened the color in her face to scarlet, but then she had a less fun but more respectable idea.
“There’s still a lot of cleaning to do around here. Um, would you be willing—and it’s okay, you can say no—but maybe we could do what we did at Ima’riel’s here? Clear out some of the dead things in the yard and some of the vines inside?”
Reeve was already placidly grinning, but his lips ticked up on one side even more at the suggestion, dimple forming in his cheek. “That sounds like a very productive way to spend the day.”
Celeste nodded and turned away quickly. Why did he have to smile like that? Why couldn’t he just agree begrudgingly and make her feel like the burden she knew she was?
It is his god’s temple, she reminded herself as she placed the book from Geezer in a safe spot.He’s doing this for Valcord, not you.
Burning out the weeds and the dried out briars was faster with practice at their backs. In fact, without the mishaps, it was even more amusing than the day prior. Out in the sunshine of the morning, Celeste found herself snuffing out Reeve’s divine fire once on purpose, giggling when he looked back at her perturbed, but then he laughed himself when he realized it had been done in jest. He retaliated later with a flame she struggled to overcome, and when she glared at him, about to call out a reminder to be careful, he only grinned in the cheekiest way she’d seen yet and doused the blaze with the snap of his fingers.
It was, of course, the very definition of playing with fire, which is a bit on the nose, even for this kind of book, but sometimes metaphors just work themselves out like that.
When they’d burnt enough away, they uncovered what was left of Tempest. Reeve marveled at the great skull of the wyvern, hands on hips. “And what were you intending to do with this?”
Celeste chuckled. “Probably pick it up and put it somewhere else if it weren’t so big.”
