“I would,” he lied, not wanting to acknowledge how he couldn’t forget their past.Raja.The man who’d given his life up to save Kit’s.The ghost of her father held them together.
Wordlessly, Visha moved aside, and Kit gave a quiet Gentry a thumbs-up. Together, they descended into the bunker, which was really like a barracks with a small kitchenette in the corner and boxes upon boxes of rations. He could see that Visha had set up camp on the bunks closest to the kitchenette, her three bags strewn open and lying around on the floors. She'd always been a messy packer.
Floating candles illuminated the edges of the bunker, revealing the cherry wood walls and ceiling. "Is that a fire hazard?" Gentry asked, her voice once again uncertain.
Visha cocked her head down at the shorter woman. "It's spelled to be flame retardant, and also to be insulated in times of great heat or cool." As she spoke, the walls started to chatter and whisper as sand slid across the wood. The bunker was once again on the move.
Gentry's eyes grew to the size of quarters.
"This thing has outlived many a witch. We're safe in here," Visha finished, slithering over and giving Kit a look. He received the unspoken message.
"We weren't followed," Kit said. "And besides, it only matters as long as we stay in here long enough for the bunker to cycle through its route." He had a plan, none of which involved them staying for terribly long, but he wanted to wait until Gentry was settled and Visha not so jumpy. Feeling guilty about the situation he’d put her in, Kit looked over at Gentry.
She was still hugging herself, both of her hands white on the straps of her backpack, and the stains of red on her now-gray shirt. He could see fresh blood going through it.Fuck, I have to get better at healing spells."Can you take a look at Gentry's arms?" he asked Visha. "I tried stitching them up, but..." He shrugged.
His ex rolled her eyes and nodded. She pressed the back of her hand against his cheek.
Kit recoiled. Her fingers were cool. Visha laughed at the small revenge she’d taken upon him before going to the kitchenette to stir at a pot on the stove. Kit relaxed a little at the bit of normalcy. Vindictive though Visha could be, she took being a healer seriously. Gentry couldn’t be in better hands.
“Is she your girlfriend?” Gentry asked.
“No,” Kit said, to the point.
“He broke up with me,” Visha answered from the kitchenette, “and it was the week of my birthday, can you imagine?”
The magic-less girl cocked her head and looked between the two of them, like they were a puzzle she couldn’t figure out. She then shrugged and sat down at a bunk unmarred by Visha’s clutter.
He tried to fight off the wave of disappointment at her reaction. She’d been all over him at the hotel. Had it meant nothing to her?She just played you last night like you tried to do to her, dumbass. Why would she be jealous?His logical side sucked, although he could see it was right. After years of Visha acting like such a jealous bitch, why would he want Gentry acting like that?
Maybe it was because he saw a future with her now, or at least one where they’d both be living and free from the Nethertons and everyone after her. He could make this work. They were already out in the desert with plenty of rations. The map on the side of the bunker could be extrapolated with his watch so that they could get out when they were closest to the barrier in the Wilds.
The only catch was that his crazy ex would be going with them.
twenty-two
Gentry
Excerpt from Gentry’s research notes:
1st notebook — page 15
Potion Making
Crafting magical potions are said to be the most difficult skill for a witch to acquire. I suspect this is because of the following reasons:
It requires a superb control of magic
The preparation of potions requires mathematical principles
