With that simple statement, Algar pulls his hand away, stands, and flashes Thane the largest of smiles as he approaches. “How’s the ale, my ruthless friend? Thinking about grabbing another for myself.”
Thane lifts the mug and gives it an approving tilt. “You should. It’s better than most.”
“Will do. I’ll catch you both at the castle once the fete is over, yeah? I hear Bernwood brothels are like being sent to the Crystal Realm.” He shoots me a wink before disappearing within the crowd.
Thane drops his eyes to me, amber irises glinting from the fire. It’s like he’s trying to read me, trying to figure out the conversation I just had with his childhood friend.
“Wanna sit?” I tap the spot Algar just vacated.
Thane thinks on it for a second, sighs, then claims the spot next to me. His knee brushes against my leg, ruffling my skirts. I ignore the tingly feeling the movement creates. With him this close, smelling like spice and leather, pretending that electricity isn’t there is futile.
I allow us a moment to sit in silence, him sipping his drink, me finishing off my meat skewer.
“So…” I start. “Will you tell me more about that tome you were talking about earlier?”
He stares into the fire. “It’s a long story.”
I throw a hand up with a shrug. “I have time.”
“It’s…a lot, Quinlocke. Way too much to explain right now with all these people around.”
“Just imagine we’re the only people around this fire. No one else can hear us. They’re not worried about us anyway. They’re all too busy having fun.”
Without thinking, I place a hand on his arm for reassurance. His gaze falls to my hand, and he studies it for a second or two, not knowing what to do about the small gesture. I jerk my hand away and clear my throat, realizing how intimate the action was.
Thane leans forward, planting his elbows on his knees and wrapping both hands around his mug. “Fine,” he sighs. “What do you want to know?”
“You said you wanted to retrieve the Tome of Azidel from the temple. Why is that particular tome so important to you?”
“I told you why. To increase the power of my magic.”
“Okay…why?”
“To defeat Seferin.”
I blink at him. “So I was right before. You hate Seferin.”
His jaw clenches. “With every fiber of my being.”
“Care to explain?” Not that Seferin is a hard man to loathe.
“That’s an even longer story…and tonight is not the night to go over it. It’ll dampen your spirits and mine.”
I allow his words to steep, mulling over each one. “Well, if all of this is true, and you want that book so badly, why haven’t you gone after it before now?”
His throat bobs. “That’s the tricky part.”
I adjust my position on the slab, waiting for him to speak again.
“In order to get the tome, I need amortal’sblood. And it can’t just be any mortal. It has to be a mortal who isone hundred percentwilling to go into the Temple of Elphar and help me retrieve it.” He takes a long pause, drawing in a deep breath before delivering the last sentence. “Most importantly, the mortal must be noble, kind, and willing to risk—possibly even sacrifice—their life with the sorcerer they traveled with.”
I blink at him a few times before staring at the ground between my boots. He said the words, but it takes a moment for me to digest them. Yes, I am willing to take the risk going to Elphar, like he said, because of my sister, but the wordsacrifice…that’s something else entirely. He’s supposed to protect me. That’s our agreement. So how can he possibly protect meandhelp break my sister’s curse if there is even the slightest possibility that I’ll have to sacrifice myself?
I relax my shoulders, trying to see this from his perspective. He acknowledged he’s taking the same risk, and that’s fine. What isn’t okay is that he’s kept the truth from me this whole time—since the beginning.
“So you thinkI’mthe mortal that can help you?” I ask through partially gritted teeth.
He nods. “Yes, I think you could be…”
