“She inhaled the green fungus,” he said to Aster, returning to the subject as if that was the most normal sentence in existence.
Aster’s eyes widened. “The Hypnóphyllon?”
Theron nodded once. “It should have knocked her out.”
Aster’s gaze snapped to me, alarm surging. “Yeah, or even killed her! Alex, gods… how do you feel?”
I blinked at him, then smiled sweetly.
“Like,” I said slowly, searching for the words, “I want to hug everyone. And also kiss someone. Maybe. But not you, we are friends and I like Tiff, I would never do that… oh but wait, I like Atlas, and he likes me. Maybe I shouldn’t kiss you then, Theron.”
Aster made a sound of pure suffering.
Theron’s laugh finally broke free, and the sound of it surprised me so much I burst into giggles too, clutching my stomach. The laughter spilling out like it had been trapped inside me for days. Aster looked between us like he couldn’t decide if he was furious or horrified or both.
“This is not funny,” Aster growled.
Theron’s eyes glinted.
“It’s a little funny.”
“It’s hilarious!” I corrected, then tried to demonstrate this by swaying side to side, as if about to start dancing, with my hands lifting dramatically. “We should celebrate,” I announced. “I didn’t die, guys, woohoo! It’s a good day to be alive and dancing.”
“No dancing,” Aster said immediately, stepping forward.
“Yes,” I said, and I tried to spin, which resulted in me wobbling, fumbling for my top as if I had suddenly decided clothes were optional.
Aster’s eyes widened with pure panic.
“Alex. Gods… what are you… No, stop!”
Theron’s hand shot out, catching my wrist with effortless control, not harsh, just firm enough to anchor me back into place.
“You are undressing,” he said with a sigh.
“I’m dancing,” I argued.
“You are attempting to dance and undress simultaneously,” he corrected, and the calm in his tone was so infuriatingly composed that it made me laugh again.
Aster pressed a hand to his face.
“What do we do?” he demanded through his fingers. Theron’s amusement faded slightly, replaced by a calm, assessing seriousness.
“She must sleep it off.”
Aster exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face.
“Fine. Like I said, I’ll take her back to my tent.”
Theron’s gaze sharpened.
“No.”The single word dropped into the space between them like a stone.
Aster’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
Theron stepped closer, and the air in the tent seemed to thicken to the point of choking.
“She was put under my protection,” he said evenly. “She is my responsibility until she reaches the treasury and the torch is in your hands.”
