Obviously, the boiling liquid did something to the snake. As the liquid flooded over it, the snake opened its mouth wider than any real creature could. In that split instant, the serpent’s head looked a perfect circle with bloody teeth and a long, narrow throat visible. Then it seemed to let out a sigh of relief and uncoil so it was a long, wooden stick that leaned against the bed. If not for the oddity of a stick with serpent’s eyes, perhaps it would have seemed less menacing. The oblong pupils watched Sondre attentively, reminding all of them that it was not merely a staff.
“That was harsh, Mae.” Prospero gave the doctor an appraising look.
Dr. Jemison shrugged. “Salt water to nullify Aggie’s last magic. I think you were right that the poor thing got caught between Aggie’s orders and wanting to obey Sondre since he’s taking over House Grendel. Magic talismans aren’t deep thinkers.”
“Neither is Grendel,” Scylla chimed in. “You need to sort out whatever you’re worrying over, though, Sondre, or that staff is useless to you.”
“I liked you better when you were unconscious,” Sondre told her.
“Ha! We’re roomies now, Grendel Junior.” Scylla flashed him a remarkably friendly smile.
Sondre looked at the doctor. “Mae—”
“Don’t start,” Dr. Jemison snapped with a shake of her head. “I’m not exactly pleased to have either of you taking up a bed here.” She glanced at Lord Scylla. “And if you end up unconscious again, I will slap you. Seriously, heal faster. And you”—she turned back to Sondre—“stop being so trusting. Did marriage make you soft?”
No one spoke for a moment, and Maggie tried not to linger long over the flash of possessiveness she felt. Dr. Jemison was a professional, and Sondre was a smart man. Maggie had no reason to worry. Logic said so.
Still, she leaned close to him and whispered, “Should I be worried about leaving you here?”
Surprisingly, Sondre didn’t look away from Maggie as he said, “Can someone close the curtain? I want to be alone with my wife.”
“Privacy from noise, too,” Scylla muttered. “I don’t want to hear any of that.”
Maggie’s cheeks flamed briefly, but she stayed where she was at Sondre’s side. The sliding sound of the curtain rings on the overhead bar was followed by the sound of absolute silence. Then Sondre slid to the center of the mattress. He held his uninjured arm out and widened his legs, so she could curl into his side and nestle one of her legs between his.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to fight, either. Later when you feel better… but not right now, okay?”
“Good.” He beckoned with his outstretched hand. “Then come here and let me hold you. I was worried I wasn’t going to get to do this with both arms anymore, or at all after you were so angry earlier.”
“I’d still be here. Arm or no arm.” Maggie carefully climbed into the bed and rested her head under his chin so that her cheek was on his chest. His uninjured arm tightened around her waist, holding her to his side even as he was both exhausted and injured. For the first time since the hob came to fetch her, Maggie felt the knots in her body loosen.
“I want exactly one woman in my bed or even on my gurney, Maggie.”
“Yeah?” Her heart sped at that. This felt more real. A fight, a make-up. Talking it out. “You want me here?”
“Yeah.” Sondre kissed the top of her head. “I have this wife, you know? Terrible temper. Mediocre cook. Great mom.”
“She sounds like a real prize,” Maggie said dryly.
“She is. She’s brave and smart and beautiful,” he added. “And when I was falling all I could think is that I had to figure out how to get home because I didn’t want to lose you or Craig.”
“Both of us?” She hated how insecure she felt, but her son and her spouse were blending about as well as bleach and ammonia. Having asurprise new family hadn’t sounded terrible, but the result was veering near to poison when the two male members of her tiny family clashed so constantly.
“You’re a package deal,” Sondre said mildly. After a pause, he added, “And he reminds me of a younger me. Question every rule. Sure you know the best way. Ready to fight over anything.”
Maggie glanced up at him. “Sounds like you now, too.”
He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and muttered, “Kettle, meet pot.”
At that Maggie laughed. “Fair.” She snuggled closer. “I think I’m ready to talk to him about living with Hestia.”
“He’d be safer there. He can come home for holidays,” Sondre said after a wide yawn.
“Tonight, though, maybe a nap…” Maggie murmured, feeling unexpectedly drowsy now that the adrenaline of seeing him in pain had faded. “I’ll be more careful if you are.”
“Deal.” Sondre held her nestled close.
They stayed that way, nestled together until Maggie was almost asleep, and then Sondre said, “I’m not sure I want to be head of house. I think being headmaster is wiser.”
