Curling my hand into a fist, I hastily lowered it. An amused voice spoke in the silence.
“You’re perhaps the most timid chthonic mage I’ve ever seen.” Eleos stepped out of the door frame and approached me. “I can’t claim to be an expert on chthonics, but I’ve always assumed using blood magic requires. . . reckless abandon.”
“Maybe it does.” Pressing my hand to my arm, I tried to halt the flow of blood.
“According to every record we have,” Eleos looked up at the stars, “The Maiden Brizo could enter pockets of the Empty safely, and halt its advance. And I needn’t lecture you on how she sundered it in twain.”
“You think that’s what I did?”
“Maybe.” His brow wrinkled. “Perhaps I got overexcited. It’s a theory, at best.”
“Hm.” I flinched as blood seeped between my fingers. “I’m not sure I’d trust records claiming to have seen the gods walking among us.”
“I don’t either.” Eleos looked down. “But if you wield magic—I’m quite certain you aren’t chthonic.” He glanced at my arm. “Would you like me to help you with that, Lady Aethra?”
“Why are you calling me that?”
“Is that not what you are? You introduced yourself to me as a noblewoman. I imagine you often masquerade as one.”
He sounded completely earnest, but that little half-smile. . .
“You’re making fun of me.” I guessed.
“Not at all, Lady Aethra,” Eleos said calmly. “Would you like me to restitch that?” He asked again.
“Yes,” I said, feeling foolish. A faint smirk twitched across his face before he opened the door for me.
Trying not to drip blood all over the floors, I scurried after Eleos, following him into his inn room and sitting on the edge of his cot. Last he’d stitched me up, I had been as conscious as the dead.
Pressing a cloth to my shoulder, Eleos’s sage-green eyes peered into my soul. “You should’ve just cut a palm.”
Oh. That seemed a rather obvious choice, in hindsight.
“Never mind. Perhaps youarereckless.”
“I usually think on my feet, not beforehand,” I said.
Sitting beside me, Eleos held the cloth to my wound, eyes fixed on the bloody stains. His other hand gripped my wrist, holding my arm steady.
Shifting uncomfortably, I registered how close he was, and promptly tried to erect walls around my mind.
Searching for something to fill the space, I thought of a question. “What did you do? Your crime, I mean.”
Opening a small pouch, Eleos pulled out a needle and threaded it. “I figured it would keep you entertained for a while if I made you guess.”
“Your insistence on keeping the secret makes me think you did something truly awful.”
“That narrows it down, no? You’ll get there eventually.” He wiped the blood from my shoulder and set to stitching. “What about you? How’d you end up selling cheap trinkets on Ikaria’s market street?”
“I was a gutter rat. My mother dumped me, and I was lucky to survive long enough to meet a tutor.” I narrowed my eyes. “Why ask? Can’t you just read my mind?”
“I’m trying not to.” He leaned closer, focused on his task. “It’s impolite.” He looked up, green eyes an inch from mine. “I haven’t peered into that chaotic hellscape since the marsh.”
“I don’t believe you.” I snapped my mouth closed. “Wait, what do you mean by-”
“You should. The honesty on my face reflects my sincere soul.”
“Alright, now I’m absolutely certain you’re lying.”
