Perhaps other magical deposits were formed the day Callahanobtained his power, and Soren and Alaric have been steering the miners away from these caches, to ensure they alone have access? Or they could have hidden the original gemstone triad in an old, abandoned mineshaft for safekeeping, where no one ever has cause to visit. It would be so brilliant to keep the key to moving the earth within the earth itself. Hidden in plain sight. Much safer than royal coffers that could be infiltrated by a curious young prince or vengeful captive bride.
Alaric shifts uneasily, pinning me in place with his storm-cloud eyes. A few short weeks ago, I would have accused him of trying to manipulate me with that roguish stare. But now I see the dazzling flecks of silver for what they really are—a mask to hide his doubt and uncertainty.
“Unless there’s a reason you don’t want me to see your mines or your magic?” I goad.
Alaric closes his eyes and sighs loudly. “Fine. I’ll take you to visit one of the mines. Be ready to go before dawn tomorrow. We need to be finished before the miners arrive for the day.”
With that, he stands and heads for the door.
I surprise myself by calling out, “Thank you—for believing me about Von Nevus. And for coming to your mother’s salon. I didn’t realize how much I was asking when I begged you to escort me. It can’t be easy, seeing her like that.”
Alaric shrugs stiffly. “She’s been that way for so long, I should be used to it. Besnik’s death broke her—just like my father said it would. I lost all of them that day.”
Scenes from his golden memory bombard me, and it’s all so tragic, so unfair, and so achinglyfamiliar.
“That’s how it happened for me too,” I blurt. “You might as well have taken my parents the day you took Rowenna, because they’ve never recovered. It’s like the best parts of them only existed in my sister. Like they had nothing left to live for when they were left with only me.”
The way Alaric is appraising me makes my stomach flip. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, heart hammering, feet tingling, but instead of fearing the drop, my body buzzes with the inexplicable urge to jump.
Look away!Rowenna commands from the depths of my consciousness.
But I don’t look away.
Neither does Alaric.
His lips slowly bend into a smile that isn’t smug or smoldering. It’s timid and raw and, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Thirty-One
The castle halls are thick with quiet, and darkness still blankets the sky when Alaric collects me the following morning.
I have to force myself to count to five before reaching for the doorknob—so he doesn’t know I spent most of the night waiting for him, obsessively nervously pacing and obsessively dissecting every moment of our interaction.
I pull up my hood and pretend to yawn as I open the door, but the charade falls away the moment I lay eyes on him.
He looks like a Tashiri planter: shirtless, with low-slung trousers, working gloves, and hair in a wild tangle. It’s startling and wrong and appealing. So very,veryappealing. Especially when the ghost of a smile touches his sleepy eyes and he murmurs a gravelly greeting.
“Ready to go?”
“I think the better question is ifyou’reready,”I blurt awkwardly. “You’re not even wearing a jacket today.”
Alaric chuckles. “Always so concerned with my wardrobe.”
“Because you’re always missing half of it.”
“The mines are dirty,” he says with a shrug that draws my gaze to his sculpted shoulders. “And my work is strenuous,” he adds. And now I’m thinking of sweat sliding through the grooves of those muscles.
I shake my head and pin my eyes to the ground. Stress and lack of sleep are clearly addling my senses. Just because he saved me from Von Nevus and we share similar trauma doesn’t mean we share anything else. Anything deeper.
I’m using him to find the gemstone triad.
Nothing more.
I repeat this like a mantra as Alaric leads me through the deserted halls and down a twisting staircase, to the base of a circular turret. Heruns his fingers across the stones until there’s a distinct click. Then the wall rotates, and the next thing I know, we’re expelled from the castle and skirting around a watchtower, into the twists and turns of the walled city.
Alaric moves at a breakneck pace, leading me in the opposite direction of the trail that took us to the highest reaches of the mountain. Instead, we wind down streets full of sleeping stone houses until wereach another Fortress wall—this one built into a cliff’s edge. A wooden sign indicates the Kirana mineshaft lies below, down a steep flight of stairs carved into the mountainside.
“Watch your step,” Alaric whispers over his shoulder. “The stairs can be slick. And keep close. We won’t be able to see more than a few paces ahead.”
