I turn to look at her. "Well. I can barely feel it. I thought that was just because it's new. The bond only activated last night."
Thea accepts the tea I offer with a grateful nod. "Bonds all across the region are weakening. It started about two months ago, gradual at first, but it's accelerating. Mine with Ash, he's my familiar, wolf shifter,it used to feel solid as iron. Now it's like spider silk. He says he feels untethered."
"Is it dangerous?"
"We don't know yet. No one's died, nothing that dramatic. But familiars are reporting feeling disconnected. Mages are losing the ability to sense their familiars' locations, their emotional states. Some of the commands don't... stickanymore." She wraps her hands around her mug. "The village wants to research it together. Pool knowledge. Your grandmother was supposed to join us, before..."
"Before she died."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
Am I sorry too? I'm still not sure. "What do you need from me?"
"Information, mostly. Your grandmother's library is legendary. If there are historical records of anything like this, they'd be here. And..." She hesitates. "We'd like you to attend our gathering tomorrow night. At the inn. Just the local mages and their familiars. Compare notes, see if there's a pattern."
"I'm not really..." I start to say I'm not really a mage, not like they mean, but that's not fair to her. "My magic is different from my grandmother's. I'm not sure how much help I'll be."
"Different how?"
"Kitchen magic. Hearth and home. I make salves and tinctures. I can't throw fireballs."
To my surprise, Thea grins. "Good. Magnus has enough firepower for all of us combined, and he's insufferable about it. We could use someone practical." She stands, draining her tea. "Tomorrow night, seven o'clock. Just come, listen, tell us if you've noticed anything with your bond. That's all."
I walk her to the door, and she pauses on the threshold.
"Your grandmother was brilliant," she says quietly. "But she was also terrifying. I think a lot of us are relieved that you're... not."
"Not brilliant or not terrifying?"
"Not terrifying." Her smile is gentle. "Give yourself credit for that."
She's gone before I can figure out how to respond.
I spend the rest of the day exploring.
The library is as overwhelming as I feared: hundreds of books, most about combat magic, military strategy, and what I can only describe as "ways to kill people efficiently." But there's a section on bond magic that I pull down and stack on a reading table for later.
The greenhouse attached to the back of the house is a pleasant surprise. It's warded against the cold, which means things are actually growing. Not well, they've been neglected for weeks, but growing. I recognize most of the herbs, some medicinal plants, a few things that are definitely poisonous but probably useful in the right context.
I could work with this. If I stay.
The thought catches me off-guard. Am I considering staying?
By the time evening falls, I've made a full circuit of the house. Committed the layout to memory. Found the cellar door (locked, heavily warded, absolutely not going down there). Started a mental list of things that need fixing, updating, replacing.
I make myself dinner in that perfect kitchen: soup from the preserved vegetables, fresh bread, cheese. Simple food, but I put intention into it. Warmth. Comfort. Home. I need it now more than ever and I suspect Cadeon does too.
The magic hums through me as I cook, and when I eat, I feel it settle. This is what I'm good at. Not battle magic or commanding familiars.
This.
I'm washing up when I feel a spike of cold terror through the bond that makes me drop the bowl I'm holding.
It shatters on the slate floor, but I'm already running.
It's full dark outside now. He'd be awake. Active. But this feeling through the bond...
What is it?
