“Well, we can’t exactly stare at each other and do the spell. It sounds like we need to portal to another town to get our…models,” Ivan says, hesitating on the word.“I don’t see another choice. Does anyone else?” he asks, looking around the room.
Everyone is silent. We know there isn’t one.
Ivan nods in acceptance. “It’s already late afternoon. Let’s head out, find our marks, then we can come back and discuss the rest of the plan.”
The portal spits us out on top of a hill. The bustling town of Roselake lies below, shoppers flitting to and from different merchant stands like tiny ants.
We begin the trek downward.
People jostle past each other on the narrow streets, everyoneseemingly in a hurry to get to their destinations. The first time someone bumped into me, my pulse skyrocketed. By the fifth time, I didn’t even budge.
Ivan stops in front of a rundown building, its sign crooked and aged.The Silver Stag Tavern.Inside, the stench of beer and stale food hits me like a wall. True to its namesake, a statue of a silver stag on its hind legs is nestled in the back corner. On the back of every chair, a silver stag head is embroidered into worn, green fabric. Although most of the tables are packed with happy hour patrons, we’re able to snag a table in the back, right beside the statue. Asmo and I sit with our backs to the busy tavern while Luca and Ivan keep watchful eyes.
“Okay, Az, how are we supposed to do this discreetly?” I mutter to him.
He raises a singular brow. “Nickname basis now, princess?”
I ignore him. “Well?”
“I think taking a knife to ourselves in the middle of the day in a tavern might call a little unwanted attention. We need to follow one person, knock them out, then conduct the spell.”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind, Asmo,” Ivan says.
Asmo leans back in his chair and throws his arm around the back of mine. “Any other ideas?” He looks around the table expectantly. When nobody responds, he says, “I didn’t think so. We need to walk out of here acting tipsy, then follow someone and attack when they’re not expecting it.”
Luca gives a terse nod before standing and heading to the bar. He returns with two pitchers of light beer and four glasses.
“Don’t actually drink it,” Asmo says quietly, looking at each of us. “Mae, use your wind to evaporate the liquid slowly while we sit here.” His arm is still resting on the back of my chair and he squeezes my shoulder. “Let’s look like we’re having a good time, huh?”
“Since when are you so jolly?” I mutter, reaching to take a fake sip of my beer.
He leans down, bringing his lips to my ear, and whispers, “Why? Do you miss your Prince of Darkness?”
A shiver of pleasure rolls down my spine at his words, at his breathhot on my ear. I take a real sip of my beer this time. He leans back, chuckling under his breath.
It doesn’t take long for the pitchers to evaporate. When they’re empty, we stand and head out the front door. If we’re not successful in getting the High Crown back, I think we could all join a local theater instead. We’re acting like we’re the best of friends, all of us laughing as we exit the tavern. We look like everyone else, blending in perfectly.
We make our way down the busy cobble street, Asmo and me in the front, Luca and Ivan following right behind. We continue walking until the crowd thins, the streets growing more deserted as we near the residential quarter. Just ahead, a deer hybrid couple walks together, the male’s antlers leaning to the right as he laughs at something his partner said.
Asmo darts forward. Before the couple can turn around, Asmo is right behind them. He mutters something under his breath, and they just…fall into his arms.
“A little help here?” he says, holding the hybrids up.
Luca rushes to him, nudging his arm underneath the male’s. The four of them look like friends walking home together after a long night out. Well, as long as nobody looks too closely, at the way their feet drag on the street and the way their heads loll to the side.
“You could’ve given us a warning that you were about to do that,” I mutter as Asmo and Luca drag them into a dark alley.
Asmo pulls the knife from his pocket and hands it to me. “They won’t be out for long. You have a few minutes, at most. Make the mark on your thigh. As you’re carving it, call upon your magic and whisper, ‘As are you, as am I.’ Quick.”
I pull my skirt up and grab the knife from him. “Circle with an X?” I ask, looking at Asmo, but he’s staring at my exposed skin.
He nods slowly, then rips his gaze from my thigh. “Look at her first, princess. Commit her face to memory. Ivan, stare at your mark. Imagine being him. Take the knife as soon as Mae is done, then make the same symbol.”
I steal one more glance at the unconscious female inAsmo’s arms and place the knife to my skin. The blade is cool and it stings as I press down, but the feeling is familiar. Comforting.
It’s been so long since I gave into the urge to harm myself. Despite feeling like I’m drowning nearly every moment of the day, Asmo’s presence every night keeps me from giving in. The urge grows less with every day, and there’s a sense of victory in that.
“As are you, as am I,” I whisper, gritting my teeth against the pain. Asmo was right—the knife moves on its own, gliding through my pale flesh like butter. Blood spurts in its wake, but it doesn’t run down my leg. It evaporates, forming ruby droplets in the air above my thigh. When the mark is complete, the blood twirls upward before vanishing into the air.
