But once I’m there, I do look back this time. Igaa has moved close to him again, and she’s crouched down in the snowy straw. As I watch, she pulls his head into her lap.
I suddenly realize why he did it. He saw no other way to protecther.
This suddenly feels too intimate, and I slip through the doors as silently as I’m able.
Once I’m out, I stop short. It wasn’t just the interior of the barn coated in snow. It’s . . . everything. The entire lane, the bakery, the trees, the forge in the distance. It’s melting swiftly in the midsummer heat, because drops are already falling from the trees, but the snow itself evokes the first time I came here, the way I first talked to Jax in the lantern light of his forge. The air was so sharp and cold, and I found him so intriguing. I’d spent so much of my life guarding my emotions that it was the first time I’d ever felt a true pull of attraction for someone else. The feeling was so new and raw that I wasn’t sure what to do with it.
I know what to do with it now, but as usual, something else requires my attention.
I shake off the memories and stride forward, feeling the slush-covered mud grab at my boots with every step. Wind swirls around me as I walk, and it takes me a minute to realize that it’s not Nakiis’s magic causing the wind anymore. It’s . . . it’smine. After so long without using my power, I expect it to feel sluggish again, but sparks and stars flare in my blood almost without me thinking about it, and the wind picks up. Without warning, the temperature begins to drop. Clouds shift across the sky, and a new round of snowflakes fall.
I shiver, trying not to stare— but I’m not dressed for this.
When I reach the forge, I turn for the door to the house, but a shadow in the far corner shifts, and I jump, my hand automatically going for my blade.
My magic responds simultaneously, and frigid wind blasts through the space, icicles formingeverywhere.
“Tycho,” says Jax, pulling free of the shadows.
My heart is still pounding. “Jax.” The wind settles. “You havegotto stop doing that.”
His eyes fix on my shoulder, and then he looks out and around. “We could hear the wind— we thought it was going to blow the buildings down.” He hesitates. “I know you said to stay in the house, but I didn’ t— I couldn’ t—” He makes a face. “Well, I knew I could watch from here.”
There’s so much emotion hiding among those words. “Jax,” I say softly.
His eyes shift back to my shoulder. “The magic fixed you.”
I nod. “I need my breastplate and my bow.” This time I hesitate, because it feels like so many things are unsaid, and there’s not enough time to say them. “Before Xovaar gets here.”
Just as I say it, a new wind swirls through the forge, and this time I have nothing to do with it.
I immediately go rigid, then rush for where my things are shoved against the work bench. Jax sees my sudden movement and yanks the bow over his head, pinning two arrows in his palm like he’s been a soldier all his life. Without a thought, I have the breastplate strapped to my chest, and I grab my quiver and join him in the shadowed corner.
We both have a nocked arrow now, but we’re shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, just like the night we finally realized we were on equal ground. It seems fitting somehow that we’re having this standoff right here in his forge.
Beside me, his breathing is steady, his eyes clear and focused on the lane.
He’s as ready as I am.
A bit of snow falls again, and I look down at the barn. I wonder if I should’ve made an attempt to hide Nakiis and Igaa somewhere else. Somewherebetter. When she pulled his head into her lap, there was something so tender about it. Guilt is still tugging at me about everything that happened between me and Nakiis, the way he forced me to bind my magic to his. I know he hated it— and Igaa was willing.Heknew she was willing. It didn’t have to be this way.
But then I consider what he said.
We are bound until you die— or until I do.
And I suddenly realize Nakiis doesn’t expect Xovaar to come here to kill me.
He expects the scraver to finish what he clearly already started.
Nakiis expects Xovaar to follow this trail of magic to killhim.
CHAPTER 31
JAX
It’s midsummer, but the lane between the bakery and the forge are white with the snowdrifts we normally see by the winter solstice. Ice and snow are dripping everywhere, melting in the warmth of the sun, but every now and again, Tycho will adjust his position or shift his weight, and a strong gust of wind will blast through, carrying the taste of snow.
“Is that you?” I whisper.
