“Okay.” I take a deep breath, preparing myself. “Then let’s go see Ansel.”
The sorcerer is actuallyhappy to see us. He ushers Rowan and me inside the rock shop, motioning for us to hurry.
“You’re entirely too excited to experiment on us,” I tell him, not sharing his enthusiasm.
“You’re mopey when I don’t welcome you with open arms and grumpy when I do,” Ansel scoffs. “You’re difficult to please.”
“And you’re in an awfully good mood.”
Dropping his feigned frustration, he claps his hands and then rubs them together. “I’m eager to see if this works.”
“I thought you were confident it was going to work?”
“I am, but the only way to know for sure is to test it.” He gestures to the table. “The dust pendant is ready to go, Rowan. Have at it.”
“Wait.” Tendrils of panic wrap around my heart. “Have at it?We just got here.”
“Do you want to hold a parade first?”
“No, but that’s it? No cautionary instructions or…I don’t know.” My voice grows desperate. “Something?”
The sorcerer contemplates me, baffled. “I think we’ve pretty much covered everything.”
“Not everything. What is Rowan going to do with the magic once he’s drawn it from the pendant?”
With mock patience, Ansel says to Rowan, “Kit would like to know how you plan to use the surplus magic. Would you mind sharing with the class?”
“It should merge with my magic, so I plan to drain all of it with fire, just as you do when you need to deplete your supply.”
Rowan appears calm, but I can see through him. He’s nervous.
“A sound solution.” Ansel turns to me. “Can we begin?”
Rowan reaches for the pendant, and I dart forward. “Wait!”
He looks back at me, his expression soft but determined. “It’s going to be okay.”
“What if it’s not?” I whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“This just got awkward.” Ansel clears his throat. “I’m going to give you a minute, but then, do you think we can get on with this? I understand your time isn’t in high demand, but I do have other things?—”
“Yes, thank you,” I say, cutting him off. “We appreciate it.”
Shaking his head like an old man, the sorcerer leaves the workshop. If we were paying him, he’d demand a raise.
When the door closes, I look back at Rowan…but I don’t know what to say.
He gives me a sad smile, so handsome, and extends his arms. “It looks like you could use a hug.”
I choke back a sob and step into him, holding him so tightly. He wraps his arms around my back, resting his cheek next to my ear.
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
“Me too,” he admits.
“I feel like this is where we end.”
He sets his chin on my head. “Or it’s where we begin. Unfortunately, there’s no way to know which it will be until we cross that bridge.”
