“Why not? I have my share. What you two do with yours isn’t my affair.”
“Do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Don’t treat me like a fool.”
Saeldian’s heart pounded. But the amulet thumped, once.
“I know what I said to you in Hearthaven’s Repose. I know you can’t say it back. I know why you fought the dire troll on your own so the rest of us could get away.”
“I told you, Lorzok needed time to—”
“Because you would have rather died than have the post–love confession talk.”
“Kell! Gods.”
Kell laughed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. But it’s so you.”
Saeldian ate some more yogurt so they couldn’t talk. Kell waited. When they had another spoonful, he chuckled.
“I’m not going to sit here and make you talk it out. I know you. I don’t know everything about you. But I know enough. And I have some guesses.”
“And you’re going to tell me what they are, even though I can’t tell you if they’re correct or not.”
“I get that. A long time ago, you made a bargain with an archfey. You were very young. So you offered something that seemed like a small thing that wouldn’t matter, or something you didn’t want.”
Saeldian waited.
“I know what you ran away from. A lot of people would assume you ran away from Mr. Wheeler. But it was your mother, I think.”
Going absolutely still was a tell, but they couldn’t help it.
“Because she didn’t help you. Because she loved him, and if she ever had to pick a side, she picked his. So when you met Osalor and he told you that you had to trade him something in exchange for power, you gave him love. You can’t love anyone.”
Saeldian rubbed the back of their neck, because that could mean anything, but he was so close to getting it.
“You don’t have to tell me if I’m right. I heard your invocation that you say in Sylvan. You don’t understand what it means.”
“I don’t,” Saeldian said. “I’ve tried to learn Sylvan, but it’s hard to remember the words.”
Kell tilted his head. “Interesting that you can’t seem to learn that language in particular. Do you want to know what you’re saying when you ask for the power to do one more spell?”
It felt like Saeldian’s chest was caving in. “I don’t know if I do. No. Tell me.”
Kell reached for Saeldian’s hand. “You’re saying that you’re grateful for the power he gives you in exchange for your heart. Every time you needed one more spell before you could rest, you repeated your pact and then thanked him.”
Occasionally, Saeldian wondered what it felt like for a mark when they realized they’d been swindled and everything they had believed in while Saeldian was telling them exactly the right lies was false. Maybe it felt like this—like everything had slowed down when they realized every single thing they’d willingly, eagerly done just wove the trap a little tighter.
Kell sat with them as it all rolled through Saeldian’s body, heavy as lead. He squeezed Saeldian’s hand when they looked at him but didn’t speak until they squeezed back:Go on.
“You can’t love anyone. But that’s not the same as not being able to love anyone. That would have been too easy. He wants you tosacrificeit to him. So if you ever have to pick a side, you pick his.”
If only Saeldian could explain what they felt right now. But they couldn’t. And they couldn’t nudge Kell into figuring out every detail.
“That’s the reason for all the cantrip checks I keep catching you making. You’re checking to see if you broke your pact—so you don’t quite know where the borders are. What can you do? What can’t you do? And so I have an idea, if you want. If you think you can risk it. If you can’t, that’s all right.”
Kell turned to the shelves on the wall and picked up an oak case. He unclasped it and drew out an hourglass with sparkling violet-gray-tinged sand puddled in the bottom. He lifted it in both hands and held it out with a grin.
