I move toward the door, muscle memory kicking in—I’ve had unwelcome visitors every day since the trials were announced. Cracking open the heavy door, I peer through the narrow split. Oak Hombern sways nervously, waiting for me to fully open the door.
“Hello, Oak. It’s nice to see you dry.”
He grins, loosening his shoulders. “Hey, Briar, may I come in?”
I step aside, allowing the door to swing open. He shuffles past me, his gaze finding Maines. “Oh! Hi, Miss Madden,” he mutters.
She barely acknowledges his presence. “Hello, Hombern.”
“What can we help you with, Oak?” I ask, moving back toward the fireplace, my body desperate for the heat.
“I just wanted to thank you for what you did during the trial. You could have left me, but you didn’t. So, thank you.”
“You are welcome. No one deserved to die that way. I want to think you would have done the same for me.”
“Always.”
Oak is handsome, his aura radiating a calming effect on anyone who meets his gaze. His eyes are almost charcoal black. As a Lumor Wielder, he possesses a lightness similar to Rohhit, but he’s different—he’s more serene. His thick, golden hair falls in shaggy waves below his ears, and his lower face is adorned with a bit of scruff, while his pouty lips reveal bright teeth. I glance at Maines, who has lifted her gaze from the books. Her eyes are wide as she stares at the man standing before us.
“What are you looking at?” she barks.
“What are you studying?” Oak ushers to the table, picking up the leather pages. He removes a pair of glasses from a pocket near his chest and rests them on his perfect nose.
“Stop! That book is older than you can imagine. You can’t just pick it up so carelessly,” she yelps.
He flinches and gently puts the book down. “Apologies. I didn’t know you cared so deeply for ancient texts,” he smiles.
She drops her gaze, annoyance clouding her expression. “You don’t know a thing about me as far as I’m concerned, Mr. Hombern.” Maines moves to focus on him as he stares at the books on the table.
“Now you are the one staring, Maines.” Oak doesn’t lift his gaze from the text.
She sizes him up, her eyes landing on his face once more. “Nice glasses,” she teases.
“I’m more than just muscles and good looks, Maines.”
What the hell is going on?
Watching the sparks between them, I cut the silence. “We love to read ancient texts in our spare time. It’s a real page-turner.”
They both stare at me unamused as I join them around the crackling fire.
“That looks familiar.” He reaches for the small torn piece of paper where the marking sits.
“What do you know about this!” I demand.
“In Brinkym, we spend years learning various ancient texts in school. They think it’s valuable to know history. You don’t learn things like that in Daramveer?”
“Gods, no. They teach us to fight before we learn to read in this kingdom,” Maines says.
Oak nods, shrugging. “All I know is this isn’t a good marking—and it’s not the Rigil used for common rituals. Why are you studying this?” Confusion twists his features.
Maines and I swap a look, a silent conversation between us. She moves toward the books and opens a marked page. “Can you read this?”
Oak leans in, his body nearing hers. Her entire body grows stiff at this closeness.
“I can’t exactly read this word for word, but this paragraph talks about ancient magic dating back further than the Great Wiitches. Poisons crafted from dark liquids—blood—I think. From creatures that dwelled deep in Andorwood caves.” He glances at Maines, their eyes meeting, sparkling. “Why are you studying this?”
“Barlowe died because of this poison, that’s why. And Briar may have found a stone in the nearby forest that had a markingon it we’ve never seen before.” Maines speaks, her voice tight as she speaks my brother’s name. She steps back, creating distance between herself and Oak.
