I’d had all those once, and I’d lost them. No, that wasn’t quite right. I hadn’t fought for them. Hadn’t been brave enough to do so. I was better off here, where I didn’t have to become anyone’s burden.
“You’re a wyrm,” I said, “why doyouneed any of those things?”
“I don’t.” He stared at me pointedly with large glassy black eyes that had far too much depth and knowledge buried in them.
“We do have lives.” I pointed to the bookshelves. “We live a thousand lives through these books. You’re a bookwyrm. You of all creatures should love access to endless stories.”
He raised the upper half of his body into the air. “I think at this point you’re more of a bookworm than I am.” He paused, a heavy pause that indicated he had more to say. “And I think you like this tower a little too much.” His black eyes narrowed to slits.
I bristled, his words hitting much too close to the truth. “What does that mean? Who wouldn’t like this tower? It’s some of the most amazing magic that exists on the entire continent of Aubergn.”
“Right, but it doesn’t have any other people. You’re perfectly content to sit alone in a tower for the rest of your life. That’s not normal, Niamh.”
I scoffed. It was like he was forgetting why we were in this tower in the first place. But I could never forget. “Maybe for someone who hasn’t been through what I have it isn’t, but I like it here. We’re safe, and I get to read books all day and talk to you.”
“More like annoy me,” he mumbled, and I shot him a glare. “It’s not healthy for you.”
I looked down at my curvy body, thick thighs, and pudgy stomach—all more filled out than they had been years ago. “I’m perfectly healthy, thank you very much. I walk three times a day.”
All I had to do was think about walking and the tower wouldtransform into a meadow or a forest or, much to Morton’s annoyance, a cliffside.
The end of his pink tail flicked my stomach. “I don’t mean physically. I mean mentally. You’re a human. You’re meant to have community. I’m afraid you’ll never find a home if you don’t overcome your fears.”
I shifted the blanket over my lap, not wanting to talk about this anymore. “Want to get me another book?” I asked, voice airy, unconcerned. “The one about the king and the peasant girl who tricks him into giving away his crown?”
Morton sighed and slithered toward the bookshelves and up the wall. “You’ve read that one at least ten times.”
“And I’ll read it ten times more.” I liked the peasant girl, so clever and brave, so willing to fight for herself and those she loved.
A book plopped in my lap, Morton already opening it for me. “Are you avoiding this conversation?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Maybe if I agreed with him, he’d stop with all of this, and I could get lost in a different world. “Fine, we’ll leave the tower one day, okay? One day we will venture out and see what has become of Aubergn.” I snuggled deeper into the chair, determined to forget about that stupid tremble that I’d definitely imagined. “But that day will absolutely not be today.”
CHAPTER 2
Wolfe
Of all the stupid missions I’d gotten sucked into, this one was by far the stupidest. I tromped my way up the winding dirt road that cut through a grassy hill, the tall blades brushing against my thick leather-plaited trousers, lined with wool to protect from the cold wind.
“It wouldn’t kill you to smile, would it?” Cillian said from beside me, shooting me what I knew he thought was a dazzling smile, white teeth practically sparkling under the rays of the sun.
I grunted in response and kept my pace as I crested the hilltop.
“So you’re not in the mood for talking, I see. But maybe we could take a break?” He spread out his arms. “Enjoy the magnificent view, enjoy each other’s good conversation?—”
I kept walking down the other side of the hill, ignoring the High Prince of Fairwitch Isle and his inane chatter, which on the best of days annoyed me and on the worst of days made it impossible to remain clear-headed and alert. Today was the worst of days. Not many would dare defy the high prince, but I was his older brother—even if I was a half brother—and that meant I just so happened to be one of the few who could call him out when he was wrong. And right now, this was one of those times.
“Wolfe.” He grabbed my arm, and I stopped, turning to look down at him. His hood covered his wavy ink-black hair and pale skin. “I know you think this is a bad idea.”
I snorted at his simplification of the matter. “A bad idea is you spending all night before the meeting of the majesties drinking so you’re hungover during the entire session and then puke on the High Princess of Bergenay. A bad idea is deciding to give everyone in Fairwitch Isle a week off work, which almost made our entire society collapse.”
He winced and scratched the back of his neck. “I should’ve thought that one through a little more.”
I rounded on him, sword thumping against my thigh, that familiar prickle of anger rising like it did whenever Cillian acted carelessly. “A bad idea is pretending to be a peasant so you can have a day out in the city as a nobody.”
“That was a great day,” he said wistfully, blue eyes twinkling.
“But this?” I thought of all the ways we could die out here. All the ways Cillian could die, and my heart cracked. “Is downright stupid and reckless.”
