Lucas readjusts my deadweight in his arms and answers, “We’re closer to Nora’s place. We should head there instead.”
Valen’s brows pinch. “Who’s Nora?”
I answer him. “She’s a magician friend of ours who runs Estrella Apothecary. But we can’t waste time. We need to get to the bookshop.”
Lucas heaves a sigh. “I want to get home too, but look at us. You can’t walk. V can barely keep up. My fingers are bleeding, not to mention your arms. The shop is too far. We’ll never make it.”
I’m loath to admit it, but he has a point. Lucas shifts his hold again to ease up on the razor slices from when I attacked Vincentius. Most have crusted over, but a few have cracked open to leak. Then there’s my curse scar from the museum that tugs painfully. And the bone-deep agony from heavy dark magic use.
A chill clings to me that even Lucas’ warmth can’t reach. There are no flashes of hot and cold, my usual hint that my Dual Threads are unbalanced. There’s just the icy cold of the Entropy Flame.
My clammy hands fist harder in Lucas’ shirt. I need to get to my grimoire fast.
But even if I get back to the bookshop, I can’t get down to the vault. We still need to force the spider back into submission, and Jinx’s assistance earlier has my magic drained dry. I can’t stand, let alone battle a powerful grimoire.
Lucas continues, “We are out of options. Nora will help us. I know it.” I can practically feel the intensity of his stare. “And you know it.”
If we’re attacked, I’d be as useful as a sack of sand. My absolute last resort is to physically summon Jinx through our bond, but it would leave my chest ripped open when her body reformed. We’ve never done it before, but she has with Geralt Rosemont. She slaughtered the horde of magicians that razed the Rosemont estate. Geralt died from summoning her, but legend has it that he grinned in death, knowing that Jinx avenged him.
My teeth grind and I keep an annoyed groan from escaping. Going to Nora’s makes the most strategic sense, but to do so instead of sprinting home sets me in a near feral panic.
“There’s something else.” Valen’s low voice soothes some of the pressure building within me, but his words have bile surging. “The Archweaver grew impatient when the letter didn’t lure you immediately into his trap, so he enlisted Dimitar’s assistance.”
My eyes flare. “The Amur?”
Lucas grinds to a halt and turns to face Valen, “What about that asshole?”
Exhaustion weighs heavily on Valen again, his shoulders slumping as he shifts his weight. “I don’t know all the details, but the Archweaver offered a great reward if the Amur could break through your wards. The Archweaver is looking for something, perhaps an object you anchored your curse to.”
My fingers flex to catch the edge of Lucas’ jacket, pulling it into a tight fist. Lucas squeezes me. “We need to get off the streets. Now.”
I’m breathless. “But Jinx?—”
“Jinx can take care of herself. We are fucked if we don’t get some help.”
Coolness whispers over my hand on Lucas’ chest. Valen’s long fingers wrap around mine, his voice a low murmur. “I hate to agree with the magician, but he’s right.” His thumb slides over my knuckles. “If this Nora can offer shelter while we make a plan, then I vote we accept it.”
I swallow thickly, my eyes burning. I squeeze his hand. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Like me, Nora lives in an apartment above her store. Unlike me, Nora has a backdoor leading to her private residence. It’s perfect for sneaking up to from the dark back alley.
Lucas carefully ascends the rickety stairs with Valen following. Each step hums with hidden runes that detect malicious intentions. Some are as old as the building, others I assisted in hand-carving.
The door to the modest apartment cracks open and a dark brown eye peeks out. Lucas shifts my weight. “Sorry for waking you, Nors.”
“Lucas?” Nora gasps, throwing her door open wide.
I can’t help a weak smile. My friend is in a lavish silk nightgown with a matching robe, the soft dusty rose color complimenting the sepia tone of her complexion perfectly. Her thick, curly hair is wrapped up in a matching silk scarf. A few stray curls escape from the bottom to dance along her neck. I try to make a roguish comment but can’t muster the strength to come up with something clever. I wave weakly instead. “Hi, lovely.”
Nora jumps, her head swiveling in a double-take. Her jaw drops and I giggle weakly, “Surprise.”
Her brows bunch, “Aster? What did you do to your hair? And eyes? And?—”
Lucas grimaces. “It’s a long story. Can we come in?”
“Yes, yes. Please.” She wraps her robe tightly around herself, her wand balanced between two fingers as she does. “Come in.”
Lucas steps through the door our friend holds open for us. Valen swirls his hand in an arc, soft words of an incantation flowing from him and he erases our tracks. The smallest tremble in his fingers give away how draining it is, but his spine is rod-straight and face in his usual cool mask.
